#the conflict with which i stared at this ask wondering if it was ok to post.....

[herotome]

🤝 so glad other anon made the ride a horse save a cowboy joke for me, thank u. Warden has big boi horse energy for sure. Fits v nicely with that (i believe) you said he'd be the most likely to wear a collar. Bridle and reins aye?

.................................okay this is thE LAST NSFW WARDEN ASK OK YOU GUYS, if you send me anymore I will not publish them!!!

........yes he'd like birdle and reins play no I will not elaborate further.

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 5: The Cabin: Day 1 (pt.2)

Summary: Soap being gone for so long has you extremely worried. When he finally shows, you have an exchange of words, and Soap learns that you are human after all.

Word Count: 4,000

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, angst, slight panic attack, Soap is still mean?, suggestive language, partial nudity 

A/N: I’m ahead in writing by two characters, but expect weekly updates! Let me know how you’re liking it so far! Also comment some possible scenes you might want to see, sometimes I include them! Enjoy ~

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Bitter Allies • Part 5

The cabin, which had no electricity, was dark now. The sun was setting over the lake, which was beautiful, but you didn't have it in you to enjoy it right now. All you could was pace in the kitchen, the only light and source of heat coming from the embers in the wood stove from when you made food.

Soap was gone. He'd been gone all day. You didn't know what time it was when he left, but the sun had been high in the sky and now it was setting. Your mine was racing.

What if he had gotten hurt and couldn't get back? What if a bear or something killed him? Were there even bears where you are? What if-

There was a groaning sound as the cabin door opened. You gazed snapped over to the door right as Soap was walking through it. He looked tired, but that was to be expected. You don't know where he went or what he did, but you know he hasn't eaten. Unless he ate some berries or something during his time in the woods, but you doubted it.

A mix of emotions hit you as you look at him. Anger at him for being gone for so long, relief that he was back, and conflicted feelings when you feel your eye start to burn with tears. Truth was, you did care about Soap to some extent, and him not coming back after an hour or two scared the hell out of you.

Despite your current state, and after everything that happened this morning, you wanted to keep your voice calm when speaking to him. You didn't want to yell, start another fight, or add more stress. However, the moment you open your mouth, anger burns in your chest like lit gasoline. Knowing you'll combust if you try to speak, you pause, hoping he'll speak first, and stay in your spot in the middle of the kitchen.

Soap's eyes were down as he walks in, not even acknowledging you. His lips were tightly pursed shut, and his body language was tense. He doesn't even spare you a single glance as he makes his way to the where you'd carefully placed all your food rations.

Taking a deep breath, you try to swallow the anger and address him.

"Where have you been?" Your voice shook the slightest bit, but you managed to keep it fairly steady.

Soap doesn't respond. You hear a faint annoyed sigh from him, but that's it. Your anger is boiling over at this point. You tried to ask nice, tried to be calm, but he was going to give you the silent treatment? Act like nothing had happened and like he hadn't made you worried sick for at least the last four hours?

"Soap, where the hell have you been?!" You were shouting now, and your raised voice finally makes Soap's gaze shift over to you. He looks you over a bit before rolling his eyes, returning to flipping through MREs packets to find a meal he wants.

"Don't fucking ignore me, Soap! You can't just leave and be gone for hours like that!"

"Fuck off, States." He grumbles, continuing his search for food. You stare at his back for a long moment, a bit taken back by his response. He really thought it was fine to go out into the woods for hours? To just leave you alone in the middle of the woods wondering if he was ok? Could he really not see how much distress he'd caused you by being gone? Or did he just not care?

You'd been worried about him.

Your chest tightens a bit, hands clenching into fists at your sides. You hated Soap with every fiber of your being, yet you worried when he was gone. You hated that you felt this way about him. You hated that he made you feel this way and now he was acting like it wasn't a big deal.

"Fuck off, States..."

"Don't tell me to fuck off! What gives you the right to leave like that? I didn't know if you were coming back or not." He just keeps ignoring you, his shoulders tense, and you snap. "John! Fucking turn around and answer me!"

That finally gets his attention. He looks back at you, jaw clenched tightly. "What have I told you about calling me that!?" He shouts at you, but you ignore him.

"Can you just listen to me!? I was worried about you, you stupid fucking idiot!" You shout at him, feeling your breath hitch a bit as a sob boils in your throat. You couldn't stop it. Tears started to run down your cheeks. You tried to brush them away, but they just kept coming.

"I sat here for hours! I didn't know where you were. I went outside, and I looked, and looked for you, and I couldn't find you. I thought you got hurt, or-or killed, or a bear got you, or you-you got lost. I didn't know if you were coming back, and I was scared that you weren't going to, and I didn't know what to do!"

You're sobbing by the end of your outburst, giving up on wiping tears away or keeping the sobs down. The stress of the day had gotten to you, and Soap leaving had been the final thing to make you break down. Now you just stood in front of this man that you hated, feeling scared that he'd died while he was gone, and sobbing uncontrollably into your hands.

Soap stood there frozen as he watches you. He'd never seen you cry before. No matter how bad the fights got, you never cried. Or at least not in front of him. He didn't really know what to do, but you were really upset. You're starting to hyperventilate, and he had to admit, he was getting a little worried.

"States, just calm down, lass."  He says in the most gentle voice he's ever used when talking to you. "Stop crying, you're fucking up your breathing." His voice is still gentle, and there's a tinge of worry behind his words as he stays frozen in place.

You try to stop, you really do, cause crying in front of Soap isn't something you like doing, but you can't stop. Now that the wall has been busted down, the water wasn't going to stop until the pressure had been released.

Soap finally moves when you can't seem to stop and turns to one of the shelves behind him to grab a cantina. He unscrews the top and takes your hands, wrapping them around the bottle and then brings it up to your lips. "Here, lass, drink some water. Take some deep breaths for me too, aye?" His hand pressed into your upper back, just steadily remaining there for support.

You do as he says, trying to take a few small sips and wiping at your eyes again. It helps a little, enough to settle you down a bit. You meet Soap's eyes, still sniffling and hiccuping softly. He still had his hand on your back, but he removes it to take the cantina back when you're done.

"I was worried about you..." You repeat, this time in more of a whisper as he puts the bottle back on the shelf.

Soap sighs softly and looks away, down towards the floor. You start to sniffle again, which makes him look at you once more. "Hey now, don't start that again."

"I'm not trying to. I can't help it. I was scared." You defend yourself, breath stuttering slightly.

"Look States, I... I'm sorry. Ok? I didn't mean to make you worry."

You're shocked. Absolutely in pure shock that this man is apologizing to you. He's never apologized to you for anything, and the thing is, he looks genuinely sorry. You stare at him for a long moment, making him uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that." He shifts nervously in place, a frown on his features.

You shake your head a bit, snapping yourself out of your state of shock. "Sorry, I've just never... I-I'm glad you're back." You rub your arm nervously. "Please don't.. please don't ever do something like that again."

"I won't." He says simply. "Stop all your crying now, aye? Go wash your face."

Normally you would have snapped at him for telling you what to do, but he's still talking to you softly. Like he's telling you to do something to make you feel better, not just to belittle you. So you nod and make to grab the flashlight to walk out to the pond. Before you get to the door though, he's calling out to you.

"Aye, States. Are you hungry? I'm going to make some food. You want some?"

You look back to him, surprised that he offered. You'd eaten a few hours ago, but you hardly had anything all day. Plus all that worrying you'd done had worked up quite an appetite. "Yeah... That'd be nice." You agree, getting a nod from him as he turns back to picking something from the cabinet.

"Alright. Go wash up. I'll get started." He says, his back to you now. You hesitate a moment more before stepping outside into the cool air.

It's quiet outside, aside from some frogs and an owl. The fresh air feels nice and helps to settle any remaining stress you had. You hear Soap inside, putting more wood onto the fire to get the oven going. It didn't seem real what just happened. You weren't quite sure what to make of any of it.

Sighing softly, trying to push everything that happened today behind you for now, you click on the flashlight and head towards the water. The sun has gone down and the moon is casting a soft light on the water's surface. Once you reach the edge, you scoop some water into your hands and splash it over your face, letting the icy water soothe your puffy cheeks. It feels nice despite the bite it has from the cold. It's just what you need.

Realizing you don't have a towel or anything to dry your face with, you end up just gently patting your face dry with your shirt. You'd be changing for bed soon anyway. You were regretting, however, packing your shorts and an oversized teeshirt to wear as pajamas. They weren't going to be very warm, and despite what you hoped was a new development in your relationship with Soap, you still were not fond of him seeing you in something like that.

The thought of your pajamas made you remember your lack of a bedroll. Maybe you should apologize to Soap for getting so upset with him earlier. It was technically your responsibility to keep track of it, and you doubted Soap would purposely do something like that to you. He was mean, but you didn't think he was that mean. Plus he had just apologized to you. Maybe you should return the favor. Extend the olive branch.

That was going to be hard though...

You sigh softly and get up, heading back into the cabin. Soap managed to get the fire going and now had a pot of what looked to be beans on the stovetop. He'd also laid out two pieces of bread on your plates. You stayed by the door, trying to warm your hands a bit as you watched him stir the pot. After a few seconds, he breaks the silence.

"Feeling better?" He asks, eyes focused on the food he was preparing.

"Yeah." You answer, yelling at yourself to just get the apology out. It was stuck though. Apologizes weren't really your strong suit. Plus making them to someone you had a bad rivalry with made it all that much harder. Instead, you find yourself clearing your throat and changing the topic.

"Uh... So I was thinking maybe we should make a few rules. For both of us to follow." You watch him for his reaction, not sure what you were going to get.

Soap surprisingly nods. "Sure. What were you thinking?" He asks, still not looking at you.

"Well... Maybe rule one should be that we can't go off into the woods alone for more than an hour? Just for safety." You start, which is met with silence. "If we need to go somewhere to cool down, maybe we go to the lake. Or somewhere else close by. I just don't want to have to go looking for you if I need you."

"Sure." Soap finally answers. "I can do that. Anything else?"

You think for a moment, not fully prepared to come up with all the rules by yourself at that very second. "Maybe just small things. Like we can alternate who cooks every night. Let me know before you go bathe. Don't leave dirty clothes or food lying around. Stuff like that." You shrug, watching as steam begins to rise off the pot of beans.

Soap stops stirring them and bangs the spoon on the side of the pan a few times. "That sounds reasonable." He agrees, surprising you by how accepting of this he was. "Come get what you want. I'll eat the rest." He tells you, standing out of the way so you can scoop the beans onto your plate.

You pick up your plate that he'd laid out for you and get your spoon, looking at him before looking down at the beans in the pot. You must have hesitated too long because he's rolling his eyes at you a moment later.

"Come on, I didn't poison them or anything." He grumbles, bits of the old Soap coming back.

"Well, I wasn't thinking that until you said something." You attempt to joke, though you aren't sure if Soap thought it was funny or not. He let out a huff, which might have been a laugh, but you're not sure.

"Just get your beans. I'm starving." He mumbles.

"Yes, sir." You say, getting reminded that he hadn't eaten all day. You didn't want a hangry Soap on your hands.

As you scoop up what you wanted, a very small portion so that he can have more, you hear him actually laugh. It's not a full belly laugh, but he does let out a small, single, chuckle.

"Now that's something I could get used to you saying." He mutters, making you roll your eyes this time. Though for once you aren't really annoyed.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." You tell him, setting your plate on the small table in the kitchen and sitting down.

You wait as he dumps the rest out onto his plate. You fully plan on sitting and eating with him. Sure, it still felt like you were walking on eggshells a bit around him, but this was by far the most civil you'd ever been with him. Once he's done scooping everything out onto his plate though, he's heading towards the bedroom without another word.

"Where are you eating?" You ask him when he walks past the available chair.

"On my cot." He answers, pushing the door open and shutting it behind him without another word.

You feel stupid now thinking that Soap was going to sit and eat with you. You don't know why you'd been expecting him to, but, now that he wasn't, it hurt a little bit...

Things probably hadn't actually changed. He was just being a littler nicer because he saw you cry. You stare down at your food, feeling a lot less hungry now, but you eat anyway. No point in wasting it.

Once your plate had been cleaned off the best you could, you set it on one of the shelves, planning on cleaning it tomorrow morning. You then make your way to the bedroom door and knock softly. You don't get a response, and if you listen really closely, you can hear gentle snores.

Opening the door carefully, you see that Soap had fallen asleep. His plate was on the floor next to his cot, scrapped clean. So much for your rule of keeping a tidy space. But you'd let it pass this time since it had been a long day.

Running a hand over your face, you step inside and pick his plate up, carrying it out to the kitchen. You set it alongside yours on the shelf and then you go back to the bedroom to grab your pajamas. You opted to change in the kitchen, just in case Soap woke up, and did so in record time. He was still asleep though when you came back in. However, the second you sat on your cot, making it squeak loudly, he woke up.

"Ah, that damned bed of yours." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"You were the one who stuck me with this bed." You remind him, making him grumble as he sat up. He places his feet on the floor, looking to the ground.

"Where's my-" he starts, but you already know what he's going to ask about.

"I already put it on the shelf for tomorrow." You tell him.

"Oh. Alright then." He mutters, standing up. He starts to take his shirt off, which had you blushing and raising your brows at him. Then he's taking his pants off, which instantly makes you cover your eyes.

"Oh my God! Don't change in here! I don't want to see you naked!" You yell at him, which has him rolling his eyes at you.

"Oh haud yer wheesht! I'm not getting naked! I sleep in my underwear."

You can hear the sound of his pants being pulled down, and you press your hands more firmly against your eyes. "I don't want to see you in your underwear either!"

"Well I didn't think we'd be sharing a room! I didn't pack pajamas!" He exclaims. "Besides, you're not even wearing pants!"

That made you uncover your eyes, your cheeks burning. "I'm wearing shorts!" You pull your shirt up enough for him to see the shorts you had underneath, and also get an eyeful of Soap in nothing but his underwear. He's in army green boxer briefs, which made his ass and what he was packing in the front look... Not too bad.

"That's practically underwear you're wearing." He claims. "Just think of these as shorts!" He balls his clothes up and tosses them into the suitcase with his clean and still unpacked clothes.

"Those are not shorts! I can see every..."

You trail off, not really wanting to admit that you can see the outline of his dick. You don’t want him to know that you looked. In your defense, it was pretty prominent and obvious feature. You know he isn't even... worked up... yet you can still clearly see it. You didn’t have to stare directly at it to see it.

"Just fucking get into your bed." You say instead, but by the look on Soap's face, he knew exactly what you were going to say.

"No, no, go on. Out with it." He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you expectantly.

"Soap, I swear!" You're looking straight ahead, holding up your hand to shield your peripheral vision from him.

"If you like something you see, you can just tell me." He continues to egg you on, making you all the more frustrated with him.

"I'm gonna punch you in the thing I see if you don't get it over to your cot!" You threaten, making him finally leave you alone. He holds his hands up in mock surrender as he goes to his cot.

"Alright fine. Just do me a favor and don't squeak that damn cot of yours all night." He grumbles, getting onto his cot and into his sleeping roll. He rolls onto his side, back facing you.

You finally look over at him once he's laying down and then settle onto your own cot. You lay down on your back, staring up the ceiling and feeling thankful for the chilly air as it cools down your reddened cheeks.

Very quickly though, despite the wood furnace next to you, your arms and legs start to get cold. You tuck up into a ball, cot squeaking while you move, but it's not a position you were going to be able to maintain all night. After only five minutes your legs were cramping up, and you wanted to stretch out again, which caused more obnoxious squeaking.

You keep shifting like this, trying to find the best position to keep yourself warm. It doesn't take long for Soap to let out an annoyed groan.

"States, I swear." He grumbles.

"Sorry, I'm cold." You grumble right back, tucking your legs back up again.

It's silent for a little bit as you try to keep from moving around. You're shivering just slightly, but it wasn't a violent shiver by any means. Sleep was going to be difficult though. You sigh softly, your exhale a little shaky.

"Fucking hell." You hear Soap curse, followed by the sounds of him rustling around.

You'd been lying with your back to him, so you look over your shoulder as he gets up. It was hard to see exactly what he was doing. Despite his bed only being a few feet away from yours, it was dark over in his little corner, and his back was to you. The distinct sound of him unzipping his sleeping roll can be heard though.

"Here." He says after a moment and throws something over at you.

You jump slightly, sitting up to grab at whatever he's just thrown. Feeling it over, you quickly realized it was the thermal liner of his sleeping roll. It wasn't as comfortable as a blanket would be, but it was meant to hold in heat. It would keep you warm.

You look over to Soap, watching him flop back down onto his cot, his back to you once more. You're too stunned to move at first. You never expected Soap to do something so... nice. Especially for you.

"Thanks.." You mutter, getting up slowly to better lay out the lining on your bed.

"If it makes you stop squeaking that damn bed." He grumbles back.

You weren't going to argue with him. Whether he was only giving it to you to keep you from moving around or if he really felt bad you were cold, you didn't care. You were just happy to have some warmth.

The inside of the liner is warm already due to Soap having used it right before. It even sort of smells like him a little bit but, surprisingly, not in a bad way. It smells faintly like cologne, but you can't pick out the specific fragrances.

You lay on your side, facing him this time. The apology you wanted to give him earlier is on the tip of your tongue. It was the least you could do since he'd give you the warmest part of his sleeping roll.

"Hey, Soap?" You call out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as you wait for a confirmation he was listening. He grunts a bit. "I... I'm sorry for what happened earlier." Soap doesn't say anything, and you're not sure what he's thinking. It begins to feel awkward after a moment, so you continue, feeling the need to fill the silence. "...I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did."

"It's fine, States. Just go to bed." He mumbles, making you bite the inside of your cheek again.

"Ok." You mumble back. "Goodnight."

"Night, States."

Silence falls over the room then, and you close your eyes. Soap's liner, while not the most comfortable thing, keeps you warm. The day had been long and stressful, and you weren't sure how things would be tomorrow. You just hoped the days would go by quick.

One day down... six to go...

[thatanimewriter]

BOOBA!

➳ request: Hi, Charley! I love your writing and I hope you're doing great <33 if ok with you can I request some hcs for ikuya, haru, natsuya and rin asking their fem s/o if they could touch/feel her breasts? Out of curiosity not NSFW stuff

➳ character/s: kirishima ikuya, nanase haruka, kirishima natsuya, matsuoka rin

➳ warnings: boobs? boobs, mentions of pornography (natsuya), gou appearance (rin), the comforting boob hold™ (ikuya, rin), reader kinda asks first?? (natsuya)

➳ notes: this was very funny to write, thanks anon!

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

──  𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐈𝐊𝐔𝐘𝐀.

i feel like the moment he was exposed to the idea of a bikini, he broke

what do you mean people don’t always wear one pieces???

people purposely show off their bodies??? >:0000

and one pivotal scroll through instagram brought him to ask you

“do girls actually hold their boobs for comfort?”

“yeah, i do it all the time.”

“...why??”

poor boy is just so confused about both women and boobs... and women and their boobs

just doesn’t get it

when you explained the comfort of holding a boob, he wanted to try it

and you let him after about 10 seconds of blankly staring

and another 20 seconds of ikuya getting progressively redder

it took you having to take his hand and put it on your breast to fully break him

i don’t recommend this for ikuya, he might have made a mistake

but he’ll ask again next week when he didn’t do well at practice

──  𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐀.

i headcanon haru to be asexual with a low sex drive, so i sorta doubt he’s ever tried to go out of his way to look at boobs

but he hears about how great they are from the masses

n he does wonder what all the hype is about

“[name], can i touch your breasts?”

“what-”

“i just want to know why people like them.”

to that, you can’t blame him, so you just let him do his thing

honestly, it’s weird having someone touch your boobs without any sexual intent

felt much more like a medical inspection than an intimate moment

“is it because they’re squishy?”

who’s gonna tell him-

you don’t think you’ve ever felt more conflicted about a situation like this before

he probably won’t ask again because he got his answer

also probably doesn’t entirely agree

because why booba when you can swim with him??

──  𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀.

for sure has seen boobs

probably in porn-

and as suave as he wants to be, he shuts down when he’s actually in a situation

especially when you caught him googling what boobs felt like and you offered him a freebie

“do you want to touch mine to find out?”

“UHHHH”

when he finally learnt the answer to his dumb google question, you’d never seen him look so...

:000

dial up internet sound while he registers in his brain what’s happening

“it’s like a stress ball!”

“don’t squeeze them as hard as you do a stress ball or i’ll ban cuddles for a month.”

it’s ok, he was very dainty for once, applaud the man

expect him to start touching them more often

and if he wasn’t laying on your boobs before

he is now ._.

──  𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐎𝐊𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐍.

would like to say he hasn’t seen boobs but he definitely has

not always by choice, sometimes gou just shows him women and sometimes he questions her life decisions

but ever since hearing about the comforting boob hold, he wanted to know

so, even if it was out of the blue one night at your house, he had to pop the question

“can i hold your boob?”

“just the one??”

“for now, yeah.”

to that, you felt heat in your face, but lifted your shirt regardless

he was unsurprisingly gentle with you, which you were grateful for

but you still couldn’t get your face to cool down

it’s not that he never saw the appeal, he just never KNEW

he gets it now, he knows that it’s just nice to have something to hold

to have something to squish a bit mindlessly

but you’ll have to make sure he’s not doin this in public around samezuka

he himself needs comfort, for he is a sensitive man

but he might have to just settle for a hug sometimes

[ejzah]

Truth or Dare

***

“Truth or Dare?” Deeks asked, looking out the passenger window as he spoke. With an overnight surveillance shift, they’d exhausted most other forms of entertainment and resorted to middle school party games.

“Dare,” Kensi said immediately, just as she had the last three times after Deeks asked her to share her most embarrassing moment on a date.

“Ok. I dare you to clean out the middle compartment out. It’s filthy.”

“That’s a terrible dare,” Kensi scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I’m limited by our current circumstances,” Deeks answered, flashing Kensi a smirk. “And I figured we’re sticking with G-rated dares still.”

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll clean it tomorrow. Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” He’d alternated between each answer, and in the process Kensi had learned that he once helped Ray write a final paper so he wouldn’t flunk.

She mulled over possible questions, wondering if it would be wrong to take advantage of the light-hearted activity to pose a serious and far more personal one. After a few more seconds, she shifted to face Deeks. He still was focused on the window.

“You’ve told me that you’ve never lived more than two miles from where you grew up, said your dad told you he hated you one Thanksgiving, and that you shot him when you were eleven. Which directly conflicts with your Thanksgiving story. So, which one is true?” she asked, watching as Deeks stilled completely.

“Wow, that’s quite a shift from petty shoplifting,” he drawled, turning to look at her. Kensi lifted her chin, not backing down just yet. She supposed he could always refuse to answer, but she hoped he wouldn’t.

“Well?”

“The two miles bit was a way to connect with a kid who we needed to help us. The rest…” he sighed and dragged his hands through his hair. “You’re right, I did not see my dad any Thanksgiving in the last 20 years, because he’s been in jail. He did tell me that he hated me, but I was 9.” He flicked an uncertain look at her, and Kensi tried not to let her expression change. “The rest is all true.”

“You never said exactly what happened,” she prompted before she could stop herself.

Deeks turned to face the window again.

“My dad was beating my mom like he always did. Then he grabbed a gun. Threaten to kill both of us,” Deeks said in an oddly wooden voice. “I think he was shocked I actually shot him. I think you can fill in the rest of the details.”

The car was absolutely silent in the wake of his response, and Kensi felt suddenly chilled and a little sick even though she’d instigated the whole conversation.

“I’m sorry,” she started to say, but Deeks just shook his head.

“It’s ok. It was a long time ago. Time heals right?”

Kensi didn’t respond, just stared at the back of his head, a darkened silhouette. Some things no amount of time could heal, she thought.

***

A/N: I figure Deeks told Kensi the full story once they got together.

[queerfables]

So I've been super busy these past few days and I managed to snatch a bit of time to watch 9-1-1 but I wasn't able to write up my reactions. But I'm back again and really catching up now. I just watched 7x04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered and let me tell you, you couldn't have stopped me liveblogging this episode with a gun to my head.

Oh my GOD Buck is a completely smitten dork. I feel like he pulled this exact move on Taylor "hey let's hang out for reasons that are totally professional" the boy has one move and it's not slick. it is, however, CUTE

"I can give you lessons if you want" Oh Buck you are in TROUBLE this guy is smoooth

Sorry but I am OBSESSED with this love triangle shit. Two besties competing over the same person is a trope that infuriates me but make it queer and throw in some unresolved tension between the besties and I am SOLD

"You and Tommy have a lot of things in common" Oh shit they really are doing Buddie aren't they? Holy shit.

Harry! I'm so happy they brought the character back even if I'm sad it's a different actor

I love how this call is blatantly just a backdrop for Eddie and Buck's personal drama

"Both in the army... both like watching half naked men pummel each other..." am I being punked right now??

"That guy really knows his engine. You should hear that thing purr now." Did Eddie and Tommy fuck??? Buck's face says he's wondering.

The guy in the drain like "hello? I'm still down here?" This entire scene is a goldmine

Oh now Buck is jealous of Chris liking Tommy? Holy fuck you guys I cannot believe Buddie is going canon

Oh no she shot her son??? Oh God

Okay two things: One, Eddie being super giddy on the phone and Buck immediately assuming it's Tommy and not, like, Eddie's actual girlfriend? And two, the fact that it was obviously not Eddie's girlfriend

Showing up at basketball like "Wow, you guys? What are the odds???" Buck you transparent dumbass

"I'm your basketball beard" yeah that's a way to put it

Listen I'm just totally convinced it's not a coincidence that Buck develops this big time crush with misdirected jealousy on the guy Eddie is all of a sudden hanging out with all the time

Oh God, Buck's face when Tommy says he can take Eddie to get an X-ray. That tight nod and the way he just backs off, because he's not going to fight about this if he thinks it's what Eddie really wants or needs. No matter how he feels about letting someone else be that person for Eddie.

"Obviously I've been the cause of some bad blood between you and Eddie" ITS SO FUNNY WHY IS IT SO FUNNY

Ok no I know why it's so funny, it's because Eddie and Buck are caught up in this ridiculous 14 year old drama where they're both trying to get the cute new boy's attention while being conflicted about who they're actually jealous of and neither of them at any point actually realised they were queer

"That kid could not shut up about you" CUTE

"You don't have to tell me how great Eddie is" CUTE

But also Buck saying he only asked for the tour because he wanted to get to know Tommy which like first of all soft but second of all DUH

Oh holy fuck that kiss was AMAZING. I've got butterflies and I was just watching it. I'm not even a little surprised that it propelled Buck straight past a sexuality crisis and into catastrophic horniness. Didn't I tell you this guy was smooth?

The way Buck can't stop staring at his lips

Bonus reflections:

Wow good thing Tommy said "for god's sake, please call Eddie" because for a fraction of a second there, I swear, Buck and I both were like "Eddie who?"

Okay prediction though: if this relationship doesn't last, it's going to be because both of them were hoping it would solve their feelings of jealousy and being left out, and then it didn't

I keep thinking about Eddie repeatedly asking Buck to go to basketball with him, and Buck repeatedly turning him down, because as everyone knows, Buck doesn't like basketball. So Eddie lets it go and asks someone else to play basketball with him. And suddenly Buck cannot wait to play basketball with Eddie's new friend. Look I just feel like maybe there's some kind of symbolism there.

The 118's next emergency: Buck watches Eddie and Tommy spar and has a coronary

[swift-creates]

That’s The Laugh

a/n: this is my fic for @grishaversebigbang Reverse Mini Bang 2022! This was super fun to write and I hope those who read it enjoy ♥️

see @cassecorrea’s amazing art here

read @aceinejghafa’s wonderful fic here

read on Ao3 or under the cut

Jesper watched Kaz pace the length of the Slat and concluded that his best friend was really, irrevocably in love with his other best friend. 

“Calm down, Kaz,” Wylan tried, but as the past five thousand times they’d tried to get him to stop pacing, Kaz paid no mind. 

“Just like Kaz, to be so contrary.” Nina rolled her eyes. “Bet if we told him to keep pacing, he’d stop, right then and there.” Kaz said nothing, only shot Nina a glare before continuing past the billiards table.

Jesper had a suspicion, a hypothesis, if you would, as to why Kaz was being so moody- Well, moodier than he usually was, anyway. In Inej’s last letter to Jesper, she’d referred to a fight, or at least a chilly ending to a conversation, that she’d had with Kaz before sailing off for Ravka’s Southern Colonies. The sharpshooter suspected that was why the Crows’ favourite bastard wasn’t in the best of moods.

As Jesper wondered if he should try to say something, and if so, if he should mention Inej or not, Kaz suddenly deviated from his regular pacing path and started to limp up the stairs. The other Crows watched him go, and then Matthias broke the silence by asking, “Waffles, anyone?”, at which Nina kissed him very firmly on the lips.

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

“Kaz?” Jesper poked his head into Kaz’s old office. The thin curtains had been drawn over every dingy window but the one at which he sat, staring out over Ketterdam, fingers trailing over the ledge. “Kaz?” Jesper said again, more tentatively this time. 

“Would Wylan hate you if you said his occupation was a waste of time right before he left Ketterdam?” Kaz asked suddenly without turning. 

The question took Jesper by surprise, and he blinked twice before it clicked that he was alluding to his situation with Inej. “Oh. Well, Wylan doesn’t really have an occupation now.”

“Right.” Jesper thought he saw Kaz frown, but it was hard to tell just by his silhouette against the cloudy Ketterdam sky. They fell into silence again before Kaz finally asked, “What are you doing up here, Jesper?”

“Oh, you know. The others are having a waffle party. Didn’t feel hungry, so Nina kicked me out and proclaimed herself queen of the waffle kingdom.” Jesper shrugged nonchalantly.

“Really, Jesper.”

Jesper bit his lip and winced. “I came to see if you were okay? If you needed relationship advice? If you wanted me to write Inej and just tell her, ‘Hey, don’t be mad at Kaz anymore because he’s sitting at his window all sad and moody thinking about your fight’?” “Came to ask you if you wanted a waffle.”

Kaz did turn then, and gave him an appraising look, arching one eyebrow at him with a short “No.”

“Okay. Good talk, then.” Jesper started to walk out, but then promptly turned on his heel and came back. “Nope, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask you.” 

“Then what was it?” Now Kaz was starting to sound a little annoyed.

“Just… Inej wrote me the other day.” He drew the crumpled letter out of his pocket and waved it around a little. “And she kinda mentioned something about, um…”

“About. What, Jesper.”

“That you guys might’ve, maybe, had a teensy, weensy bitty bit of… conflict, is all.” Jesper braced for wrath, maybe threats, probably yelling and the end of a years-long friendship, but all Kaz said was, “Oh. Okay.”

‘Okay’? “‘Okay’?” 

“Okay.”

Huh. “You’re not mad?” He stared at Kaz for a few moments in utter surprise.

“Why would I be? Inej chose to tell you. She thought you should know, so if anyone, I should be mad at her. And I’m not. We both trust her judgement more than that.” Kaz watched a small flock of birds cross the roof of a nearby house, settling on the window ledges of the building next door, and it brought Jesper no small amount of relief to hear that.

“Oh. Okay. Good, then.” He blew out a breath through his mouth before tentatively continuing on. “You sure you’re okay?”

There was a silent pause, then Kaz tore his gaze away from the birds — crows, Jesper realised — and sighed, suddenly looking exhausted and sad. “Maybe.” The moment was gone just as soon as it’d come, and he turned away again. Jesper waited a beat more, then another, then slowly backed away and exited when he realised Kaz wasn’t going to say anything more. 

The part he’d neglected to mention to the Barrel boss, his best friend, was that he was holding onto the hope that Inej would straighten all this up when she docked back in Ketterdam’s twenty-second berth the very next day.

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

Matthias frowned at the Dreg messenger, then nodded, stood, and as the girl left, walked into the adjacent sitting room and said, “Inej is back.”

Kaz’s head snapped up, and he grabbed his cane and left the room just as fast as Matthias had entered. Under Nina’s inquisitive gaze, Jesper grinned sheepishly as the Slat door slammed behind their gang leader. “I forgot to tell him.” That was a lie, and the Fjerdan shared a glance with his partner to see she was thinking the same. 

“You better hope to all the Saints he doesn’t find out, Jes.” Nina pointed the end of a pastry at her friend. 

Matthias agreed. That conversation would likely go very, very badly.

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

“Inej!” Kaz strode quickly down the quay, and the dock workers and sailors scrambled to duck out of his way — the Wraith may have his support and his heart, but he was still a Barrel boss, and one of the most ruthless in Ketterdam. 

When Inej looked up and saw him, her first instinct was to smile and take his gloved hand in hers, but then she remembered.

“Kaz.” His expression remained carefully blank, but she could tell her cold tone had thrown him off a little. Now she was the one with the armour and walls built up, keeping him at a distance.

He had no reply, and they stood there for a moment before he turned and started back up the quay. She fell in by his side as always, but said nothing. The silence lasted as they walked up towards Tuinpark, one of the only green spaces in the whole country, and Inej decided she’d rather focus her gaze at a patch of purple flowers struggling through the snow than talk to him. In the end, it was Kaz who spoke up first.

“We missed you. The Crows. You’re our best spider, you know.” He avoided her gaze as he said it, staring at a puffy cloud drifting over their heads. 

“Say it as you mean to, Kaz.” It came out harsher than she’d intended it, and she bit her lip to stop herself from saying anything else more hurtful. 

He paused, then met her gaze, thoughtful. Then he straightened and said, “I missed you”, and suddenly she found it that much harder to stay mad at him. They kept walking down the narrow path, stopping to let one of the new Dreg messengers pass by them at one point. They silently watched the young Zemeni disappear before Kaz spoke to her again. “Inej.”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t mean it. That day. When you left. And when I said ‘hunting slavers is a waste of time’.” He was looking at a plant with startlingly vibrant green leaves, so if he hadn’t called her name, or if she hadn’t been paying attention, she might have thought he was talking to the plant. Inej figured that was as close to a hug and apology as she was going to get, so she opened her mouth to accept it, but he cut her off before she could. “I was wrong to say it, and I’m… sorry.”

Now wasn’t that something. 

She looked up, met his gaze. “Then this action will have no echo?”

He paused for a moment, then nodded. They continued along the path with a new, soft feeling of peace, and Inej let her gloved knuckles brush his every few steps before she worked up the will to take his hand fully into hers. His grasp was surprisingly warm, and she felt his hand tremor slightly, but then he twined his fingers with hers, and they walked through the snow together, the handheld promise unbroken.

“How are the Crows?” she asked as they left the park and a light snow started to fall. 

“Managing. Jesper is somehow making profits with the Van Eck fortune, and for some reason, Wylan is letting him. Matthias is a snow-covered mountain of gloom. And Nina is, well, Nina. She proclaimed herself the queen of the waffle kingdom just yesterday.” Inej couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh — Nina was and always would be indescribably, unapologetically and incomparably herself — and a soft smile pulled at the edges of Kaz’s mouth when she wasn’t looking. 

“That’s the laugh.” 

They stopped to buy roasted serdtsenuts from a vendor, and the snowflakes drifted down and down, coming to rest on her head and shoulders, nestling in her hair. He reached out, as if to take a nut, but then reached past the bag of food and tenderly brushed snow out of her ebony locks. She put a hand on his, so close to her face, and all of a sudden it was just that much harder to breathe. And all she could think of was how much she wanted to kiss him.

Then he abruptly pulled away, turned to walk quickly off, and the moment was gone. 

A million things ran through her head. Did she do something wrong? Maybe he wasn’t ready yet. Could she have set him off somehow… She tried her best to push them away as she fell in by his side, but they continued to nag at her anyway. They were almost back to the Slat by the time she managed to gather up enough courage to ask him about it.

“Kaz,” she said. 

“Yes, treasure of my heart?” he replied, and once those words would have been laced with caustic sarcasm, but now they fell pure and sweet as spun sugar upon her ears, and she felt her face warm, thanking the Saints for a dark complexion to hide blushes well. 

She took a moment to reel her wayward romantic feelings back in and calm her heart before she asked, “Do you think… Do you think we’ll ever be like everyone else?”

He tilted his head to the side just the slightest bit. “What do you mean, ‘like everyone else’?”

Inej looked helplessly at the tourists and citizens flooding the square in front of Tuinpark, couples holding hands and giggling, rosy-cheeked children following along behind their parents and siblings. “Could we ever have a family like that?” She looked wistfully at two adults and the wide-eyed little girl who was gazing at a frosted cake through a bakery shop window. 

Kaz followed her gaze to the young family, was silent for a long moment, and then cracked the barest of smiles. “Now, why would we want to be like everyone else?” She sighed, turning back to him, but he didn’t give her a chance to argue. “You are magic, Inej. You don’t need their life when you have yours. Maybe… Maybe we’ll have that. In time. But you are anything and everything I need, and the Saints will give you what you want, and what you so deserve. In time, darling.” He brushed one gloved finger against her snow-damp cheek before turning and continuing down the lane again. He tended to do that a lot. 

Inej felt as if the twinkling lights of the bakery warmed her from the inside, encompassing her heart in its soft yellow glow. She was preparing to catch up to him when she heard a chuckle from behind her, and turned to see an old woman standing in the bakery’s doorway. “Lucky girl, you, to have a boy like that,” the woman said with a smile.

Inej laughed. Most would have said she was ill-fated, to end up with the tyrant of Ketterdam, the bastard of the Barrel, but Inej knew the truth.

“You have no idea,” she replied, and ran after the treasure of her heart.

[doevademe]

Ok so the multiple Percy's prompt had me rolling (seriously thank you for that I was having a stressful day) but here's an idea: more than one Percy but of the angsty multiversal variety (because multiverse of madness and everything everywhere all at once killed me) the alternate Percy being one that lost his world's Nico (knowing Nico probably through self sacrifice and maybe in a word where he fell in Tartarus with Percy which explains why Percy can't even talk to his ghost)and just wants to slap his Canon self's head because do you even know what kind of treasure you have? And then peak conflict when AU Percy asks Nico to come with him. giving canon Percy a near heart attack (cue an I love you in every universe moment)

The thing about fighting ancient deities with increasingly more eldritch domains was that, as you did so, reality itself started to fight you.

Or unravel, in this case.

It was how Percy found himself face to face with his double from another world.

Perseus, as he had chosen to be called to avoid confusion, was a jumpy guy. Nervous, almost always angry, ready to attack anyone, and he was prone to talking to himself, but all that Percy would have accepted.

It was the way that he stared at Nico di Angelo that unnerved him.

He was always looking at him. Whenever he was in the vecinity, his eyes would find Nico and he would just... look at him with this sad, haunted look.

"You're lucky to have him," Perseus told him as he piled random objects that, apparently, were from his world, and would help take him back. "Nico is... special..."

"Yeah, he's a really good friend," Percy agreed. He wondered what had happened to the Nico of his world. "We can always count on him."

"...Friend?" Perseus looked apalled at Percy's answer. "Nico is... your friend?"

"Uh, yeah?" Percy said, confused. "We could be closer, but yes, I guess I would call us friends."

Perseus glared at him for a few seconds (was he jealous? Was his relationship with his world's Nico strained?) before a feral grin took its place.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," he said, which was just wrong on a guy with the most manic grin he had ever seen. "But I guess I must thank you for it."

Before Percy could ask what he meant, his double was running past him and towards Nico. The son of Hades took a step back, ready to run, and Percy got closer too, nervous of what his unstable other self could do.

"Finally decided to face me?" Nico said carefully. "Don't think I didn't catch you staring."

"I thought I was respecting boundaries," Perseus said easily, smirking. "Turns out, there were no boundaries to respect."

"What do you mean by that?" Nico said, reaching for his sword. "What do you want from me?"

Perseus lunged at Nico. Percy uncapped Riptide and prepared to fight off his other self from Nico before he killed him. But before either of them could react, Perseus hugged Nico and kissed him.

Nico's eyes were wide as Perseus moved his lips against his. Percy just stared dumbfounded at the scene.

"I want anything you want to give me," Perseus said, voice soft and fond. "But this... I wanted to do this since I first saw you."

"Uh..." Nico blinked, trying to process what just happened. Percy frowned when he noticed a blush on his pale skin.

"You are the same in this world, so I thought I was the same too," Perseus kept going. "Turns out, The me of this world is too stupid to appreciate what's in front of him."

"I don't—"

"I love you Nico," he said. "Be mine?"

Nico's whole face turned a deep red.

Percy felt like he was the stranger in a foreign world.

----

Perseus had dated his Nico (and wasn't that a funny way to refer to him, 'his Nico') for nearly two years before they had both fell to Tartarus to close the Gates of Death.

Perseus had come back, his Nico... didn't.

Percy couldn't imagine what losing someone you loved because they protected you in literal hell. If he had lost Annabeth back then...

Well, maybe he'd be as messed up as Perseus.

"Annabeth? Seriously?" Perseus raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Percy asked, offended. True, he and Annabeth weren't together anymore, but the way Perseus said it, like it had been wrong all along bothered him.

"No offense, she's one of my best friends but... we literally have nothing in common," Perseus shrugged as he continued petting Nico, who was annoyingly complacent to his whims. "Like what did you guys even talk about? Wise Girl gets bored unless she gets some good mental stimuation."

And Percy winced. Didn't he know it. Annabeth and him were bound by their experiences. By being thrust into danger together so often their bond had become irreplaceable but... his other self was right. When they were not questing, all they talked about was demigod stuff, and once they retired to New Rome, it turned to just schoolwork.

"It didn't work out," he admitted. "But I loved her, and I'll never regret dating her."

"That's good," Perseus said honestly. "Never regret loving someone. I'll never regret loving my Nico."

And Percy saw his... the regular Nico shudder at the words. It made him feel excluded.

"Listen, Perseus," Nico said, finally pulling away. "I'm flattered, really, and I can tell the other me meant a lot to you, but... I don't want to be his replacement."

"I don't want you to be his replacement," he said. "I loved my Nico, but he's gone. I thought I'd never love again, but the Fates brought me here, and I've been watching you."

"Creepy," Percy said between coughs. Perseus glared.

"You are the same type of person as my Nico was," Percy said. "But you also have subtle differences so... maybe I jumped the gun a bit when I said I love you."

"Maybe you did," Nico said.

"But you're a person I could see myself loving," he continued. "Nico di Angelo, date me."

"What?"

"Let me do this the right way, court you," Perseus said. "I know I will fall in love with you, and if you end up feeling the same... come with me to my world."

Nico's eyes widened. Percy felt as if Scylla had swallowed him whole.

"You want me to... come with you."

"I want to be your Percy," he said seriously. "No matter the universe, I'll always fall for you."

"Oh no, stop right there!" Percy said, standing between them. Just hearing the words 'Your Percy' had made him see red. "You can't take Nico away!"

"Why not?" Perseus said, challenging. "It will be his choice."

"Because... because... I'm throwing my hat in the ring too!" He said. He turned to Nico who looked more and more stunned with every sentence. "Look Nico, I... don't know if what we have... whatever we have can turn into what this guy feels."

"This guy has a name."

Percy ignored him.

"But I know I don't want to lose you, not ever," he said. "So, if you accept, I'll date you too, and you will have an informed choice, then."

"I..." Nico looked between them. "I don't know what to say..."

"That's okay, I would never force you into anything," Perseus cooed. Percy glared.

Oportunistic bastard.

"I... need to think it over," Nico said. "Tomorrow... I'll answer you both tomorrow!"

Nico took off in a brisk pace. Perseus smiled victoriously.

"You'll lose before this even starts," he taunted. Percy glared back.

"Not in a million years," Percy said. "Nico belongs to my world, not yours."

"You had your chance, I'm seizing mine."

And Percy decided then he would do anything to hinder that.

[draconicsparkle]

Zoo trip! Zoo trip! A great suggestion by imsleepinrn!

I think the last time I went to a zoo was in 2016. Wow. I didn’t realize how fast time has passed. Crazy crazy.

This smol should be far less chaotic and conflicting as the last one. A nice dose of fluff!

I say that like I don’t sprinkle fluff into everything I do. Eh, it’s a-ok. We like the fluff.

Also, let me know if you spot the movie reference. I’m positive you will know it when you see it.

Nagito knew he held a lot of power over Hajime. The power to convince him to do pretty much anything he asked. All he had to do was employ the pleading eyes and ask in a soft, innocent voice.

And it worked 95% of the time. Now was no exception.

“Hajime? Can we go to the zoo? I want to see all the animals they have there!”

The human looked over from his laptop where he had been doing schoolwork. And the small naga could see his magic working, as the threads of concentration he once had were weathering away. “Uh… I guess? Maybe we could go tomorrow. But are you sure? Will you be comfortable being around other humans again?”

Nagito gave him a reassuring smile, slithering over and hugging the large wrist. “As long as I’m with you, I feel safe. So long as we don’t separate, I think we shall be fine.”

Hajime sighed, ruffling the fluffy white hair. “Alright. Let’s do some research on the zoo in this area.”

Afterwards, they looked into the zoo on Hajime’s laptop, figuring out the attractions, animals, and prices. And then a plan was set.

So that is why they found themselves at the zoo entrance. Again, Hajime wore a scarf to help cover the naga and keep him both warm and out of sight. Internally, Nagito wondered if this worked to their advantage as the human paid for a single ticket. If Nagito had been out, would they have been charged for another ticket? But he put that thought aside as they entered the zoo.

Already, it was very colorful and eye-catching. Huge signs with animal drawings advertising the enclosures that were there. And a large map placed near the front to help guide visitors on where to go. Hajime went over to the sign, taking a picture of it on his phone before looking at it more intensely. “So, any preferences as to where we should go first?” he asked, pulling the scarf down a bit to allow Nagito to see more.

The tiny naga popped his head out, running a hand through his hair to try and tame it before glancing at the map. But truthfully, he didn’t care about the order. “I’ll let you choose since you bought the ticket and helped me get here. So pick whichever you want!” he said with cheer, squeezing his coils a bit in excitement.

“Fair enough. Well, since the zoo is basically a circuit, we can just pick a direction and go along that. I’ll choose… left.”

And so off they went, starting down the line of enclosures. They started off at a more aquatic section, with seals, fish and turtles happily swimming around in the water. Nagito especially liked the playful otters, one of which had noticed him and placed a paw on the glass while looking at the naga. Being chosen by the animal was incredibly uplifting, Nagito feeling like he had been blessed.

The next enclosures, however, did not inspire such feelings.

The ones after the aquatic animals were ones of the avian variety. Hajime stopped in front of a hawk’s area to look at the bird of prey. “What do you think of this one, Nagito?” the human inquired.

The bird turned its head and saw them both. In response, Nagito hissed. “Back off. I will bite.”

Hajime thankfully read his tone and took a step away. “Not a fan of birds?”

The naga grumbled while continuing to maintain his death stare at the hawk. “Too many close calls in the past. They are not my favorite species.”

“Ah, I see. No worries, we can breeze through this section,” the human told him as he rubbed the white hair gently. “They can’t get you. Not only are they behind glass but I’m here to protect you.”

The combination of the words and touches were definitely helping him calm down. He leaned into the scritches, humming with delight. “Yes, I do have my savior watching over me. Something I’m eternally thankful for.”

He could feel the skin under his scales warm up, a sure sign Hajime was blushing. He coughed before walking fast out of the avian section. “A-anyways, let’s see what’s over here.”

Nagito giggled as they moved into the larger enclosures. There, he was able to see enormous animals that he didn’t know were possible. Golden lions sunbathing on warm rocks, striped tigers padding their way through tall grass, and bears eating fish in the pond.

“Oh my,” he whispered wistfully. He knew that these animals could be dangerous, but he still was thrilled at seeing them in person. It was wonderful. He especially liked the tigers, as their colors and stripes were so unique and gorgeous. He gushed about them to Hajime, requesting to watch them a little longer than the other animals. But they did eventually have to move on, as others wanted a turn.

And then, they found themselves at the final section. The reptile section.

He felt Hajime tense up, though he wasn’t sure why. Luckily, the answer came pretty quickly. “Ummm… are you okay with going through this section, Nagito?” Hajime asked with a bit of concern.

But Nagito looked up to him with none. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine to go through. Why do you ask?”

That seemed to stump the human for a brief amount of time. “Uhh… because of what you are? I thought it might make you uncomfortable seeing other snakes.”

Nagito crossed his arms and smiled. “Hajime, are you uncomfortable seeing other people when you go to see a concert or watch humans perform? It’s about the same feeling as this. I know that the reptiles here are cared for. And that they are more simple minded than my species, therefore they likely don’t care all too much about the complexities of life. And while I do appreciate your worries for me and my comfort, I assure you that I am fine. We can continue with no problems.”

Through his snake body, he could feel the tension leave the human. Seems like he had been holding in a bit of stress over this. But he was more than happy to dispel those worries. Not that he had said anything untruthful. He really didn’t mind or care greatly about seeing other snakes or reptiles. If anything, he found the idea fascinating. He could see what potential kinds of nagas there might be out there in the world!

And as it happened, one of the zookeepers was around and handling a green snake. She was showing it to a group of visitors, who all looked fascinated. ��And this is a rough green snake, non venomous and are good climbers. They mostly feed on insects and can be found in a variety of habitats. Like wetlands and forests! Isn’t she gorgeous?”

The crowd oohed and aahed, entranced by the long green snake. But they all packed in close, preventing Nagito from being able to see anything. “Hajime, I can’t see. Can we move around?”

The brunette looked around, frowning at what he saw. “I don’t think so. Other people got that idea before us. We might have to wait or go somewhere else.”

Nagito groaned. “This is not ideal. What is your suggestion on what we should do?”

Hajime looked over his shoulder, a bit of the scarf dislodging and uncovering a bit of his tail. But he didn’t make a fuss, as it could be fixed soon. “Hmmm… I guess we could…”

“Excuse me, sir. But are those… snake scales under your scarf?”

Both human and naga glanced back over to the zookeeper, who had asked the question. Hajime then noticed two things. First, Nagito's emerald scales were indeed on display. And second, that the whole group was now looking at them.

Nagito knew that Hajime got flustered when sudden attention was on him, so he himself decided to take charge of the situation for a second. He emerged again from the scarf, fixing his hair as he replied. “They are my scales. It’s cold out so being under his scarf is far nicer. Apologies for interrupting. It was unintentional.”

The zookeeper kept her composure and professionalism. “No problem! I hope you have been enjoying your visit.”

The naga smiled, fangs visible. “We have! The reptiles here look comfy. I’m a bit envious of some of the heat lamps. They look cozy.”

“That’s pretty high praise, coming from a naga. Oh! Are you interested in meeting Jacklyn? She’s quite friendly.” The green snake in her hands was lifted slightly in demonstration.

Nagito got excited. “Oh yes! I would love to!” He patted the chin above him. “Can I go on your wrist for this?”

“Huh? Oh, sure,” his favorite human replied, raising his hand for Nagito to climb on. He loosened his coils around the neck and wrapped around the offered appendage, squeezing to keep himself there. Then the human took a few steps forward, the excited crowd letting him pass as they also wished to see this.

The wrist lowered enough for him to be face to face with the other snake. Both of their tongues flicked, taking in the other’s scent. Jacklyn then began moving towards him, extending herself over the gap to rest on Hajime’s hand. In response, Nagito stroked her scales. “You look well taken care of. I’m sure your life here is carefree. Keep up the good work of helping others learn about snakes. And to dispel that silly myth that we are slimy. How rude of people to assume that. Our scales are smooth. My human can attest to that.” He looked back and up, smirking at Hajime. “Isn’t that right?”

“Geez, when did you get so vain? But yes, you are smooth,” Hajime answered with an eye roll. Several around them laughed, entertained by the playful banter.

Then a small child came up and tugged on the brunette’s other sleeve. “Excuse me! Can I feel?”

Hajime smiled down at him. “Ask Nagito nicely. And don’t be loud, his ears are sensitive.”

The child nodded very enthusiastically and stepped closer. “Mr. Naga? Can I touch your scales?”

“Well, since you were so polite about it, then sure. Just be careful, alright?” Nagito tried his best to relax as he felt an unfamiliar touch on his scales. He also saw the child stroking the other snake, getting to feel them both. He wouldn’t deny that it felt nice. But internally he knew that none would top Hajime.

Somehow, by the time the kid was satisfied and backed off, a line of both children and adults had formed to pet the snakes. Nagito didn’t see a reason to prevent this from happening, so he gave consent so long as everyone was careful and gentle. And so began a very interesting twenty minutes of his life. Before, he could count on a single hand how many humans had touched him. But now? He wasn’t sure. But he didn’t really care. He was just thankful that everyone kept their words and touched him like he was made of fragile glass.

But by the end, he would admit that he was getting sleepy. Being out in the cold for this long was wearing out his conscious levels.

He again thanked every star in the sky that Hajime noticed this. As soon as the final person finished, he raised his hand back up to the scarf. “Here, go ahead and warm up. I’ll get us home.”

Too tired to reply, he settled for a squeeze. Though he did manage a sleepy wave as everyone thanked him for the opportunity. He would readily admit that he didn’t pay much attention after the human began walking. He just focused on warming up and relaxing.

But, he did vaguely tune back in when Hajime began conversing with someone. Carefully and slowly, he peeked through the folds in the scarf to see a cashier putting a stuffed tiger toy in a bag and handing it to Hajime. It made him feel warm inside, as he knew he was the intended recipient of this. He smiled as he settled back down, looking forward to introducing his plesiosaur to his new tiger friend.

Masterpost

[onyxbird]

...Just rediscovered this WIP in my files, and I don't foresee it getting fleshed out anytime soon, but I do love the ridiculous scenes I've got, so I might as well release them into the wild. 😉

A Tree Grew on Yavin

Summary: Poe's friends in the Resistance are baffled/skeptical when he describes the animate "Force tree" he grew up with on Yavin IV, but they soon get to see for themselves when Groot, his partner Rocket, and their team of "morons" make contact.

“You know, Poe,” said Rey, as they rehashed the attack run, “that almost sounds like the Force.”

“Wait, is that how the Force works?” said Finn. “Because I've gotten some conflicting reports on that.”

“Nah. I don't have the Force, Rey. I grew up with this tree… It's kind of complicated to explain. But if I had it, I think I'd know.”

“Of course you have the Force, Poe.” Leia entered from the hall. “We all do. It's life's music. The song we make.”

Poe didn't argue, but he shrugged. Fine. Terminology. He wasn't Force-sensitive.

It wasn't until days later, during a lull from the work of settling the remnants of the Resistance in on Ajan Kloss, that the subject came up again.

“We want to know more about that tree,” said Rey, apropos of nothing.

Poe stared blankly at her, and then at the jungle surrounding their new base.

“Which one? And why would I know any more about it than you do? I've never been to Ajan Kloss before, either.”

“Not these trees,” said Finn. “On the Falcon, you said you grew up with a tree, and that's why you're confident you're not Force-sensitive. Why? Rey's been studying the Jedi texts and we asked around a bit, but no one has ever heard of tests for Force-sensitivity involving trees.”

Poe raised an eyebrow. “You've been—who would you even ask about that? Besides the General, of course. She would have been able to tell you.” He frowned. “You also could have just asked me to begin with, you know.”

Rey and Finn eyed him with identical expressions of skepticism.

“You mean, in the cumulative 5 spare seconds since we got here that you haven't been busy setting up landing fields—”

“Building hangars.”

“Organizing patrols.”

“Flying patrols.”

“Eating.”

“Or sleeping?”

“...OK, fair. It's been a little hectic.”

Rey smirked in victory. “So, the tree?”

Poe sighed and settled in for a story. “I warned you it's complicated to explain.”

Both listeners nodded.

“All right, then. So my mother, Shara Bey, flew for the Rebellion—both my parents fought in the Rebellion, but Mom was the pilot.”

A mixed group of mechanics and pilots passing by their table chuckled affectionately. “Everyone knows, Dameron!”

“Er, I didn't, actually,” said Rey.

“Yeah, same,” said Finn.

“Thank you!” He mock-glared at the passing group. “You may think you know all of my stories, especially after hanging around with L'ulo too much, but this context is actually relevant.”

“Someone has to heckle you with the rest of Black Squadron still out on mission!” teased a tech.

“Your mother was a Rebellion pilot, and?” prompted Rey.

“And right at the end of the war, after the second Death Star blew up, when the dregs of the Empire were still coming down, she got pulled onto an undercover mission that Luke Skywalker was running. He needed to get something out of an Imperial research lab. Apparently, the Jedi temple in the Old Republic was built around this massive Force-sensitive tree. The Empire destroyed it, but they kept a few live pieces. For research, I guess.”

Rey's forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. “The Jedi texts on Ahch-To were in a tree. I wonder if it was the same type.”

Poe blinked. “Uhhh… maybe? …You couldn't put books in our Force Tree, but I don't know. Can't rule it out, really.”

Rey shook her head. “Sorry! I'm side-tracking your story. Go on.”

Poe smiled. “So when they got there and tricked their way into the lab, they found these two little Force trees. Skywalker was only expecting to there to be one. At the time, my parents were just about to muster out and go settle down somewhere, so Skywalker gave them second one to take with them and plant. He said he wanted it to be safe somewhere.

“Point is, according to Skywalker, that tree just radiates Force energy and is obviously not an ordinary tree. So it seems highly unlikely that I would never have sensed that growing up if I were Force-sensitive.”

Finn looked vaguely let down. “So… it's this amazingly cool thing, but without the Force—or, without being sensitive to the Force—it's just like a regular tree?” He frowned. “You don't think Skywalker was just pulling your mother's leg, do you? Rey said he's kinda sarcastic…”

“Well, not just like a regular tree. I mean, regular trees don't walk around. Or talk.”

“What?!”

“I said, regular trees don't—”

Finn waved for him to stop. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got that. Completely true. You're saying this Force tree does walk and talk? Like a person?”

“Yeah. His name's Groot.” He glanced around at the jungle again, with more satisfaction this time. “He would like it here.”

...

“Commander Dameron! Commander Dameron!”

Poe stifled a groan and rose from his crouch under the X-wing he was working on. “Yes, Threepio?”

“We have just received a communication for you, sir!”

Poe frowned as he ran through the mental list of who might be calling him. Black Squadron was all here. Finn and Rey were here (in fact, Rey was heading towards them now, apparently on her way back from another obstacle course run). If it were his father, C3PO would have led with that. Any of his old navy contacts who hadn't died on Hosnian Prime had mostly found their way to the Resistance by now…

“OK, who is it?”

“He called himself 'Rocket,' sir. He refused to be any more specific and insisted you would know who he was. If fact, he was quite—”

“Rude?” said Poe.

“Indeed!”

“Yeah, I know who he is. Thanks, Threepio. It's not personal. He's rude to everyone.”

Poe replaced the open panel and grabbed his jacket.

“Wait…” He stopped in his tracks. “What codes did he use to call us?”

“I believe it is one of the communication codes we use with our suppliers, sir! I was intending to ask you with whom you had shared it.”

Poe shook his head and sighed. “He didn't get it from me, pal. But Rocket turns up all kinds of things he's not supposed to have. Might be time to start cycling in some new codes.”

He fell into step beside Rey as they both headed for the base's central complex. “Done already?” she asked curiously. “I figured that sort of repair would take all afternoon.”

“It will, but apparently not today. Threepio said a communication came through for me.”

The curious stares started as soon as they stepped through the door. Rey wasn't that much of a curiosity anymore, and Poe certainly wasn't, which meant Rocket must be in fine form today. Rey gave him a sidelong glance—she'd clearly noticed, too.

“Poe!” Finn waved from the command room and jogged towards them, flashing Rey a quick smile before getting back to the business at hand. “There's someone on the line for you, named—”

“Rocket. Yeah, Threepio told me. That's why I'm up here.” He continued his brisk stride towards the command room, running a hand restlessly through his hair. “Who did he insult besides Threepio?”

“What?”

“What did Rocket say? Threepio was in a huff; everyone's giving me weird looks, and I know Rocket—civility is not his strong suit.”

Finn hesitated. “I'm not sure he insulted anyone exactly. He's just… kind of… glowering at everyone.”

Finn wasn't wrong about the glowering. The holo showed Rocket's diminutive arms folded belligerently over his chest, his pointed face twisted into a familiar sullen scowl, and the tip of his bushy, ringed tail swishing impatiently over the ground.

Of course, most of that was just Rocket's default appearance. The gigantic blaster over his shoulder, almost as large as his entire body, was new since Poe had last seen him, however.

“Rocket! Good to see you! You still working with Groot?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Finn and Rey straighten sharply, suddenly laser-focused on the conversation.

Behind Rocket, a much taller being leaned into the shot. The long wooden face split into a broad smile as he boomed out a cheerful “I am Groot!”

Force, it was good to see him again. Poe grinned up at the hologram that now towered over him to capture both of the beings on the other end.

“Beep! Bee-weeoooo!” BB-8 piped up cheerfully from by Poe's feet.

“I am Groot,” agreed Groot.

“Yeah, yeah,” groused Rocket. “Everyone's happy to see everyone. Great. Now that we've established that, can we get back to business?”

“What are you calling about? And how did you get this access code?”

Rocket loftily waved off the latter question. “Oh, you know. Sometimes you just stumble across these sorts of things.”

“Actually, no, I think there are quite a few people working to make sure you don't just 'stumble across' that code.”

“Well, maybe not just lying around, but once you're already in the right computer system…”

Poe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Threepio wasn't going to be thrilled, but knowing Rocket, he could guess the rest. Apparently at least one of the Resistance's suppliers wasn't Raccoon-proofed. Probably not a huge security risk—just Rocket being dangerously skilled and a compulsive thief, as usual.

“OK. I'm assuming you weren't just calling to make sure it works.”

“No. Quill came across an interesting piece of merchandise that we thought you or your… friends” (Rocket somehow made it sound derogatory.) “might be interested in.”

Poe glanced around the command center, wondering if General Organa was around by any stroke of luck. He blinked. Every one of the unusually large number of people currently in the room was watching the conversation play out in more-or-less open fascination. You could have heard a pin drop.

He glanced back at Rocket, as his full sentence sank in. “Who's Quill?”

Rocket frowned at him, one ear cocking quizzically. Then his expression cleared. “Riiight. You haven't met the morons yet.” He turned towards someone out of sight and shouted “Quill! Poe's on the line! Where's the thing?”

“I told you it's in the aft compartment.” A human man entered the hologram. He glanced towards Poe and frowned. "It's—Wait, that's Poe?” He peered at him for a second. “Weird. I expected you to be a tree."

Rocket stared at him. "Why would he be a tree, you moron?!"

"You said Groot knew him when they were kids! I made an assumption! A wrong assumption, clearly!"

[multiverse-shit]

The polish committee of national defense is progressively getting funnier and funnier.

Just this Thursday, they showed a slide show with the fucking X-wings from star wars as an example of places in which military conflict occurs, a toy robot as one of the needs of the polish armed forces, and a meme about Russia.

I can't even make this up, look.

At number four we have x-wings flying over the death star (the text at the top roughly translates to "places of conflict").

Here we have "The needs of the armed forces", apparently the whole middle section is supposed to mean science and not nuclear weapons, robot soldiers, and who knows what the third one means.

And if you ask me this is kind of weird because I would say that having those would be very nice. Although getting the funding could be a problem, but ok ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And my personal favorite the geopolitics slide, showing Russia being stopped by the toy robot presumably belonging to the NATO/EU.

With the quote "It's an art to die for the homeland, but the greatest of art is to live well for it" by a polish Kardinal Stefan Wyszyński (top), and "You shall not want a homeland which costs you nothing" by the also polish ex-pope Jan Paweł II (bottom).

I'd also love to emphasize the fact that the slides look like absolute shitposts. Wich does squeeze a tear of joy out of my gen-Z eyes sure, but as far as shitposts go they should not reach a national defense meeting. Just the fact that the slides are mostly unreadable, take the needs of armed forces one, I have not a single idea what are the needs of the armed forces and I've been staring at it for quite a while now. That alone puts a slideshow done by high-ranked military officials lower than the one I did in fifth grade an hour before I had to hand it to the teacher.

And if you may ever wonder who was brave enough to present it in front of cameras (all higher rank meetings are recorded, hence why we know that this happened), well it was general Cezary Jankowski. (on the right)

So yeah I guess if Russia ever wanted to steal some important information regarding our military and defense systems and by chance, they would stumble upon our little slide shows they would lose like a month minimum on trying to understand wtf is going on :).

[w4yf1nder]

i dont't like this, but i haven't written in a while so here it is.

it wasn't supposed to be like this. you look around you, mentally going through the list of names, your eyes darting around the familiar figures restlessly, the traveler, yelan, yanfei, shinobu, itto...xiao...where is xiao?

the scene replays in your mind's eye, time after agonizing time, you're forced to replay the image of xiao putting in the last of his strength to bring you to safety.

and then, you're here. you can imagine him falling endlessly down the darkness, so close to freedom and yet. yet, he chose to sacrifice himself.

you're forcing yourself back to your feet, it hurts so much, your entire body hurts and your throat feels raw but you're pushing yourself back towards the chasm. once you find him everything will be ok, you just need to find him, you must find him, you must bring him to safety or else he'll—

you don't even notice the tears in your eyes until aether places a hand on your shoulder, his eyes are pained too. and that's when you notice the faces of your other friends, staring at you with pity. do i look as broken as i feel? you want to ask, but your throat is closing in on you and you can't speak, you can't breathe. there's no way to explain this feeling.

what will it be like? a life without xiao?

you don't even want to imagine it.

you let yourself fall onto the ground and perhaps it's out of the kindness of everybody's hearts that they didn't say a thing.

there's only silence.

you don't register a thing for the few minutes afterwards, you can hear paimon saying something and then you feel a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. you'd recognize that touch anywhere.

you shoot up from the spot, glaring venomously at xiao. "what the fuck do you think you were doing?" you ask, your voice shaking with anger, or was it fear? you were scared for him, for the possibility of a life without him.

his expression remains impassive and you were left to wonder if he even cared. if he was so willing to sacrifice himself you doubt he does.

you distance yourself from the rest of the group for a while, feeling the concerned looks some of them were giving to you.

"may i have a word?" xiao finally talks and when you turn around you notice that it's just the two of you again.

"speak." you say, tone icy.

xiao sighs, his expression finally letting on his conflicted feelings.

"i'm sorry." he finally says. the words are said with so much sincerity that your last remaining strength vanishes.

"what would i—how would i live without you?" you ask, burying your head in his shoulder and he holds you without any complaint.

"you'd be fine without me." he mumbles into your hair and you scoff lightly through your tears, "is that what you think?"

he doesn't respond.

"you need to stop doing that you idiot." you whisper tiredly, but he doesn't say a thing. you pull away to look at his face which has taken on a more contemplative expression.

"i thought that after living so long...dying in the act of saving others wouldn't be so bad." you're stunned into silence by his words. the entire time...you were making this all about you.

"that's..." he's truly selfless. maybe too selfless. "but is that true?"

"what?"

"did you accept your death in that moment? was there not a single part of you that wanted to live?" you ask.

"...perhaps." he responds and you sigh. "perhaps, these thoughts are my own form of insanity."

"xiao..."

"i'm sorry for causing you pain and i—" you kiss him to shut him up. "stop." you mumble into his lips.

"you did save all of us in that moment, so thank you. but i swear to god if you do something that reckless again i'm going to bury you myself." you say grabbing his face and making him look into your eyes. "understood?"

he looks surprised for a moment before a small smile forms on his lips, "understood."

you could never remain mad at that face for long anyway.

you're just glad he's still here.

[joaquinwhorres]

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

[danielxricciardo]

Hi girl!! I love everything you’ve wrote! Couldn’t say how much I enjoyed reading one shots of F1 drivers! I have to ask if you could do one for Carlos? He and reader are expecting but keeping it secret, Carlos won the race! And he ask if he could hear her through radio, though with some glitch, all other drivers and teams hear Carlos’ radio, he tells her how he’s so happy with the win but more than anything about their little one on the way and now everyone knows the secret of pregnancy because he suddenly slipped it while talking to her on radio👶🏻 I can’t imagine how will other drivers will congratulate him (like Daniel, Max, Landooooo! Seb! And even Kimi!🤣) I think Lando will be overjoyed and will be presenting to be Godfather already Hahahaha!

Summary: Having a baby and everybody finding out

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

You realized that you were pregnant after a series of fortunate events that, individually, you did not take as alarm signals.

One evening, Carlos decided to spare you from cooking dinner and ordered your favorite food from your favorite restaurant. You were very excited to eat it, but when the food arrived you were on the verge of throwing up because of the smell. You told Carlos you couldn't eat, so you just ate an apple and went to bed. The next day, after Carlos left for the gym, you couldn't get away from the toilet because if you took a few steps you would feel like throwing up. However, when your boyfriend came home, you didn't feel so sick anymore, but you didn't tell him what happened to you because you didn't want to worry him.

You had a vague idea that you could be pregnant but you wanted to wait until Carlos leaves for France for the Grand Prix.

The day he left you went to the pharmacy and bought two pregnancy tests.

Positive.

You just sat down and cried. You stared at the positive test for several minutes. Honestly, you were so hormonal and conflicted about the timing that you bawled your eyes out. You were both happy and worried. Carlos was busy with his Formula 1 career, you didn't know if it was appropriate to add a child to the dynamics of your life.

But you recovered immediately. You are talking about Carlos, of course, he will be happy to have a child with you. You've been together for four years, you knew you would be together for the rest of your life.

The next day you did another pregnancy test, just in case. Positive, obviously. You went to the pharmacy again, and you took four more tests, to do one every day until Carlos came home.

"Hey, honey. I missed you," says Carlos entering the house.

You didn't even let him take off his shoes. You handed him a gift box in which you put the six pregnancy tests you took.

"Amor, did I forget an anniversary?"

You nod.

"Open it."

You see him take the lid off the box and take out a pregnancy test. Then another one, and another one, until he took them all out. You could see it on his face, he was scared and overwhelmed.

"Seriously?" he asks.

You nod and bite your lip, a few tears run down your face.

"Amor, that's wonderful! Ay Dios Mio! Are we going to be parents?"

You laugh and kiss him long.

"Yes, we will be parents."

You have scheduled an appointment for the next day to confirm the pregnancy and determine how many weeks you are pregnant. It looks like you're 10 weeks pregnant, so that means month 3 of your pregnancy. You couldn't believe that for almost 3 months you didn't realize you were pregnant, but you always had an irregular cycle, so it's not really incomprehensible.

You and Carlos have decided not to announce publicly that you will have a child just yet. For now, you were happy to share the news with your families, wanting to plan a nice way to tell your friends as well.

You know that feeling you get at certain times of the month when you want to cry at every cheesy commercial or could explode with anger at the drop of a hat? Pregnancy is like that sometimes, except 10 times more intense. With your new hormones raging, and more stress in your life than ever before, what with getting a nursery together and preparing to welcome the precious baby into the world and all, emotions are high. Tempers are bound to flare.

That is how you felt sitting in the paddock with Carlos who was preparing for the race. He was starting from P3 so he was pretty excited and nervous for the race. He saw your state, he knew you too well.

"Ay, mi Amor, come here," he said and hugged you to calm your nerves. "Don't worry, ok? It's an easy race, I'm gonna win it for you and the little bean, ok?"

You giggle at the sound of Carlos's nickname for the baby. You kiss him and smile.

"You know I don't really care about winning. Just come back to us. Safe." you say, your voice barely a whisper, not wanting anyone around you to hear your discussion.

"Si, pequeña. Always."

Sure, you were always concerned when he was racing. But especially now when your hormones were driving you insane and you were growing another person in your body. But you trusted him. With all of your heart. If he said he will come back to you, he will.

It took you a few moments to understand what was happening. Carlos Oñoro was hugging you, yelling 'He won!' and you looked at the screens in front of you. He did. Carlos Sainz was the winner in Monza! He kept his word, he won for you and your child.

"Hey, Y/N!" you hear your name being called by Riccardo Adami, the race engineer of Carlos. "The winner wants to talk to you."

You giggle and go to him. 'The winner'... Has a nice ring to it.

"Hey, baby! Congratulations!" you say excitedly over the radio.

"Si, mi amor! I told you I'm gonna win for our baby! I love you both so much!"

What you didn't know was that there was a glitch over the radio and every driver heard Carlos talking about 'your baby'.

"Aaa, guys? Why am I hearing Carlos over the radio talking about a baby?" Charles asked his race engineer.

"There's a glitch. Come to the garage."

"A baby?!" Lando yells into the radio, making his race engineer flinch. "Was that Carlos saying he is going to have a baby? Oh my God!"

You were waiting for Carlos to come out of his car, being absolutely clueless about the hysteria you two just caused. Carlos was just about to get his helmet out when all the drivers came to you two, yelling congratulations to you both. You looked at Carlos. Did he tell someone about your pregnancy? Did you give it away?

"Uh, thank you but how did you find out?" Carlos asked, clueless as you.

"We heard it over the radio," Kimi responds giving you a genuine smile.

"This is not how I wanted you guys to find out," Carlos said and put an arm over your shoulders, kissing your head. "But, yeah, it is true, we are having a baby."

"Mate, you're having a baby! That is so crazy! You are basically a baby!" Daniel says and hugged you both.

"And who is the godfather?" Lando asked and everyone laughed.

"We just found out two weeks ago, there are still five months to think about it," you say and bit your lip and Lando pouts. "You'll be considered, Lando."

After three months you decided to have a gender reveal for your family and friends. You could have had it a lot sooner but you wanted to be at an appropriate time for everyone. All the drivers came, as well as your family and Carlos's too. You made everyone wear a piece of clothing according to the gender they think your baby is. You were surprised to see the majority of the people being team boy, but as Lewis said 'They just want to make sure the third generations of Sainz is coming in Formula 1' and you know he was right.

"Look, listen to me, I have three kids, ok? I know, for a fact, by the way you are carrying that it is a girl!" Sebastian said and you laughed. He was wearing his pink T-shirt with pride, being 100% sure he is right.

He was.

You were having a girl and you could swear that Carlos cried a little when he saw the pink confetti. He hugged you for a few minutes, being still in shock.

"Una niña pequeña..." he whispered in your ear. "I am not ready."

You laughed and kissed him.

"You are gonna be the best dad ever, don't worry."

"No, I know that. I am not ready for her to date! And she'll go to university, no..."

"Carlos, she is not even been born yet! You have plenty of time to spend with her."

"Hi, guys, sorry to interrupt!" Lando appears near the two of you, making you break apart from your hug. "Did you think about the godfather or... or this is not a good time to ask?"

Everyone heard him and started laughing.

"Mate, remember the bag I gave you when you arrived?" Carlos asked him and Lando nodded. "You can look inside the bag now."

Lando got the bag and inside was a white romper saying 'Will you be my godfather?'

Lando looked at the romper with tears in his eyes.

"Well, if you insist..."

[eliemo]

Heart of Ice

Summary: Virgil quickly realizes the light sides had some kind of unspoken rule about touch. Which would be fine, if it didn't just apply to him.

TWs: Brief panic attack, touch starvation and mentions of its affects, self esteem issues, angst with a happy ending

Taglist:  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess (let me know if you want to be added)

Virgil got it. Really, he did.

He was the villain for a long time, an unwanted nuisance everyone hated, and understandably so. He would never hold any hostility against them, not when he knew he deserved it.

Now...maybe he wasn’t a villain. Still a nuisance for sure, but a tolerated one. He’d been getting closer with the other sides, Patton’s smiles more frequent and genuine, Logan taking a real interest in what he had to say, and Roman’s annoyance quickly turning to fond affection.

So maybe they were friends. Or they were getting there at least. Virgil knew he cared about them more than they would ever care about him, but that was ok. He wasn’t outright despised and that was more than he’d ever dreamed of.

Sure, their affection could just be to keep him from ducking out again since they’d found out how easily he could ruin Thomas by leaving, but...but he hoped it was more than that.

It was a mix of conflicting emotions and desires, Virgil never quite able to understand if anything was genuine or not.

But they didn’t hate him. That was the important thing. It would be selfish to want anything more when he was so utterly unlikable, right?

He needed to get over himself. It didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t be bothering him this much. It was completely understandable that they didn’t want to touch him.

But did they have to act like he was some kind of disease?

They were all touchy feely people. Roman and Patton hugged countless times a day, and even Logan would absentmindedly clap their shoulders or squeeze their hands in passing.  

Virgil watched them lean up against each other, lace their fingers together, pat each other's back in greeting and praise. It all came so naturally to them, clearly some kind of unspoken language in their little family.

And Virgil wanted that. He wanted it so badly it hurt. His chest squeezed whenever he saw Patton squeeze Logan’s hand, the loneliness crushing when Roman would pick Patton up in a crushing but safe hug.

Virgil...couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been touched. He’d grazed a shoulder in passing once or twice over the years, and he and Princey had accidentally held hands for half a second during a video, but other than that he came up blank.

And he’d definitely never had a hug. He knew that for sure. No one had offered one because...because why would they? Who would want to hug Virgil?

It was amazing enough that they were willing to be in the same room with him. All three of them were trying so hard to be friendly in the last few weeks since he’d told them his name and...it was incredible. It was like a dream.

But it was so unbearably obvious how careful they were not to touch him. Like he was something disgusting to be avoided. Like he would burn them, taint them beyond repair.

They would swerve out of his way when passing through a room to avoid brushing his shoulder, quickly pull their hands away if their fingers were about to brush his, carefully leaving as much empty space as possible if sitting beside him on the couch.

It went on for weeks, and it didn’t stop. No one commented on it, or bothered to avoid physical affection in front of him, and Virgil decided the best course of action was to try and ignore it.

If he brought it up, it would just turn into something awkward, and nothing would change. He’d rather just avoid the subject completely.

Virgil could handle that. He could ignore the ache in his chest and push down the thoughts of how desperately he just wanted a hug.

Everyone at least had the decency not to make it a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal.

Until...until it kind of was.

It had been a stressful few days for all of them, but obviously Virgil was taking the brunt of Thomas’s anxiety. They all knew that, and he appreciated how attentive and gentle they’d been with him lately.

Thomas was waiting on an important phone call, a confirmation that would give him a green light on his latest project they’d all been working non-stop on.

Virgil didn’t know the specific details of what they were waiting for, he’d lost himself to his panic immediately after hearing the words “important phone call” but he knew it was a yes or no answer, and that Thomas was incredibly anxious about it.

He and Patton were waiting in the mindscape’s kitchen, mugs of untouched hot chocolate sitting in front of them, Patton idly chatting to keep Virgil distracted.

And then Roman and Logan were suddenly rising up- the Prince with a dazzling grin on his face and Logan with a relieved sort of smile.

“He said yes!” Roman announced, and just like Virgil’s shoulders sagged, all the tension seeping out of his muscles. Thank god.

There were still more things to worry about now that the new project was actually underway. They would have to work out a new schedule, make sure they had enough time to perfect their scripts, and then of course there was the problem of nobody liking the finished product--

But that could wait. Right now...it was just nice to see everyone so happy.

Patton was already jumping up to give Roman a hug, reaching over to squeeze Logan’s hand, and Virgil quickly turned away before the ache in his chest, the feeling that longed for something similar could turn into the cold throbbing pain he occasionally grew familiar with.

He grabbed the mugs of now cooling hot chocolate to distract himself, smiling to himself as he tried to focus on the relief instead of the sorrow, and carried them over to the counter.

He set the mugs down, turned back around, and suddenly Patton was in front of him, pulling Virgil into the first hug he’d ever received in his life.

Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Patton was warm up against him, solid and comforting, arms wrapped around Virgil’s back like the softest thing in the world, and for just a second, for the first time, everything was perfect. Everything was ok, and the ache in his chest was gone.

It lasted less than two seconds, and suddenly Patton was pulling away like he’d actually been burned.

“I--”

Patton stopped whatever he’d been about to say, staring warily at a completely frozen, speechless Virgil. The warmth had seeped out of his body almost immediately, the ache returning with a vengeance, the want for touch even worse than before.

Logan and Roman were staring, eyes going from Patton to Virgil, tense and panicked like they were expecting some kind of violent reaction.

God, was touching him really that bad?

“I’m sorry,” Patton said quickly, glancing back at the others before turning back to Virgil, who quickly averted his gaze. “Sorry, Virge I wasn’t...I wasn’t thinking. I just got excited.”

“Right,” Virgil said, glad that at least his voice didn’t betray how it felt like his heart was crumbling. “I get it.”

“Virgil,” Patton said softly, and Virgil’s heart sank when he took a step back, putting even more space in between them. “I didn’t mean to, kiddo, I...it won’t happen again.”

Of course it wouldn’t. Virgil shouldn’t expect it to. They didn’t even want to brush shoulders with him, so why the hell would anyone ever hug him voluntarily?

“I know,” he said, already moving towards the doorway, grimacing when the others stepped away to give him extra space. He couldn’t help but feel a little bitter at how obvious all of it was. Come on, it wasn’t like he was infected. “It’s whatever.”

He stalked out of the kitchen, for the first time allowing himself to feel angry over this whole stupid thing. After weeks of tirelessly working to be better, after being accepted in every other way, they still wouldn’t…

He’d thought he was getting better. They’d called him family.

“Virgil?” Logan called, but Virgil ignored him, really not in the mood for any half-hearted excuses or lectures on why he should just be happy with what he got.

It was selfish to ask for more. He was greedy and awful and he would never really be one of them. He should know that by now and stop filling his head with fantasies that they might actually love him as much as they loved each other.

Virgil didn’t bother looking back to see if any of them looked even a little bit guilty. He pulled up his hood, hurried up the stairs, and locked himself in his room. It was probably where they wanted him, anyway.

Virgil collapsed at the end of his bed, head in his hands, well aware it probably looked like he was throwing a tantrum. They all probably hated him even more now.

But...but could they really blame him for being frustrated? Yeah, he didn’t expect them to be entirely comfortable around him, definitely not as physical as they were with each other, but he was really trying.

They didn’t need to make him feel like some walking virus.

Well. He’d gotten a hug, at least. His first and last real hug. He thought he might do anything to have that feeling again.

But no one wanted to hug Anxiety. Patton had said so himself- never again.

When Virgil allowed himself to be coaxed out of his room for dinner a few hours later, he noted with some sense of relief that the others seemed determined to pretend the incident in the kitchen never happened.

Good. While it didn’t undo how humiliated and disgusting he felt, the sooner they all forgot about it the sooner Virgil could continue ignoring how badly it hurt.

He shouldn't be upset. He needed to calm down and get over himself before he started causing issues.

He did, however, wonder if it was just his imagination that Roman’s chair seemed farther away from him today.

“So...movie night tonight, right?” Patton asked suddenly, voice chipper as he set down his fork. “I think we could all use some relaxation.”

“A splendid idea!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil managed not to flinch at the volume of his voice. “You’ll be joining us right, Marilyn Morose?”

Virgil startled when the attention suddenly turned to him, suspicion and hope waging war at the soft encouragement in Prince’s voice.

Was this...a guilt thing?

“I- I mean I guess,” he said. “Maybe. If you like, want me to.”

He’d always known they did movie nights at least once a week, all cuddled up together on the couch, but Virgil had never actually been invited to one until he revealed his name. He’d attended a couple of them now, and they were...nice. Even if he always ended up on the armchair.

“Of course we do!” Patton said. “We always do. You’re our family, kiddo!”

Well, they certainly had a funny way of showing that.

Virgil quickly backtracked, pushing away his own dark thoughts. That wasn’t fair to them. Aside from the lack of any physical touch, they had welcomed him almost completely. In every other way, he was treated like one of them.

Besides, he’d clearly done something to warrant the unspoken no-touching rule. It wasn’t their fault he was too stupid to figure out what it was.

“You are a large part of the reason Thomas succeeded today,” Logan added, and Virgil felt a bit breathless at the praise. “You stayed vigilant and cautious, and made sure there were no mistakes. I’m very grateful for your assistance.”

Virgil ducked his head, surprised when glancing at the other two showed only kind smiles and honest appreciation in their eyes. They were...actually being serious. He’d done something right.

“It...it wasn’t...I was just--”

“Doing your job,” Logan finished for him. “And doing it quite well, I might add. As you usually do.”

It wasn’t anywhere near as intense as the feeling Patton’s hug had brought, but...but it was close, warmth spreading over his chest. Virgil let himself relax, and offered a small smile in return.

“Ok,” he said, because he still was absolutely useless when it came to voicing his thoughts. “Thanks. Uh, you...you too.”

He might have missed it if he wasn’t always so attentive to people’s body language (sometimes overly so), but Logan’s hand was suddenly moving forward like he was going to pat Virgil on the arm.

It never made contact, of course. Logan caught himself in less than a second, the logical side sitting up ramrod straight and quickly pulling his hand back to his lap.

He offered an apologetic smile, Patton and Roman quickly clearing their throats and turning back to their dinner plates, and Virgil was forcibly reminded where he stood.

He’d done what he was supposed to do, keeping Thomas safe and helping him reach his goals, but that didn’t just magically change things.

Right. No touching. But he could survive off nothing but words of validation and verbal affirmation. That was just as good.

Except…

Except between the accidental hug and the rush of anticipation that came with Logan almost putting a hand over his own, Virgil had never felt the longing for any type of physical touch so strongly in his entire life.

He’d gotten used to having nothing, to being alone, just periodic glimpses of the warmth he would always be left out of. He’d adapted to it, learned to live with the cold ache in his chest, and moved on.

And now...

Now it kind of felt like he was dying. Like the cold loneliness was wrapping around him, all powerful and suffocating, his breaths coming faster and faster--

Patton stood to begin clearing the table, and Virgil was moving before he even really processed what he was doing.

“I got it,” he said. He was trembling slightly, and he was almost positive they could all hear it in his voice. “I can do the dishes. I’ll do them.”

It was a stupid, stupid thought that had crept into his brain, but right now- as desperate as it was- it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

Patton blinked, tilting his head like a confused puppy. “I- well thank you, kiddo but that’s ok, I think I--”

“I can do it,” he insisted. “You can- You can go relax, I- I got it.”

That was what he needed to do, right? He couldn’t be left feeling this empty and cold all the time. He would never give up what he had with the others but being this close to them all the time had awoken something in him. Nobody ever touched him and he couldn’t keep going like this.

He’d done well today. He’d been good and Logan had almost, almost set aside whatever personal bias they all had to touch him. It had been so close.

So obviously...obviously he wasn’t good enough. Not quite. He was still just horrible enough that no one could bring themselves to close the distance between them.

But that was ok. He could do better. He could be better. And if that didn’t work, then...well, then verbal praise was the next best thing, right?

Unfortunately, he must look even worse than he felt because Roman was suddenly reaching for Virgil’s plate, pulling it out of his reach.

For a second, Virgil thought about reaching for it under the small flare of hope that their fingers might brush.

“I don’t believe that is the wisest idea,” Logan said. “You’re clearly agitated and distressed. I recommend you wait on the couch while we clean up tonight.”

Virgil shook his head, though logically he knew the dirty dishes would end up slipping right through his shaking fingers if he tried to clean up right now.

But he couldn’t take the thought of just sitting on the couch, a useless hindrance they would only grow to despise more and more.

“I- I want to help--”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Ever since you began regularly eating meals with us, there have been exactly three times you have not helped with the clean up. Two of those were because Thomas summoned you, and the other was due to your fatigue after a recent panic attack.”

“But I--”

“You have had a long day,” the logical side continued. “You’re exhausted, and you need to sit down before you end up hurting yourself. Nobody is going to be angry if you take a break today, Virgil. Please accompany me to the living room.”

And Virgil knew there was no way to argue with any of that. Not when Roman and Patton were nodding encouragingly. Not when Logan was motioning for him to follow and he thought maybe, maybe he would put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder to guide him into the living room.

He didn’t.

They both ended up on the couch, Logan counting out familiar breathing exercises to keep Virgil from hyperventilating. He did his best to focus on calming down, eyes cast stubbornly down to the ground.

There was a good couple inches of space between them, enough that Logan wouldn’t accidentally bump into him if he moved his arm too fast. Of course.

“I assume what happened earlier today has made you jumpy,” Logan said after a few moments. “I assure you, Patton really is sorry. Hugging you was never his intention, sometimes the others can just get...over excited when it comes to physical affection. Patton can’t always control himself.”

Virgil bit his lip, forcibly biting back tears that threatened to rise because this was really not helping. He understood that no one ever planned on hugging him, he didn’t need it shoved in his face all the time.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”

Despite everything, Virgil had actually managed to calm down a bit by the time the others joined them for movie night, Roman plopping down on the other side of Logan, Patton shuffling around to find the remote and set down popcorn bowls.

Virgil knew trying to leave would only invite more worried frowns and gentle questions he didn’t know how to answer (besides, he didn’t particularly like the thought of being all alone up in his room right now), so he just took a shaky breath and willed himself to stay calm, shoving everything aside for the moment.

And then Patton moved to sit down with the others, and visibly hesitated at the end of the couch.

There was plenty of room for one more person. It wouldn’t even be particularly cramped, not with the way Roman was already invading most of Logan’s space.

But, of course, it was just enclosed enough that it ran the risk of Patton’s leg brushing Virgil’s when he sat down.

Virgil stood up before Patton even had the chance to open his mouth and stalked over to the empty armchair, not bothering to hide his irritation. He might not blame them for it, but that didn’t mean he had to act happy about being so repulsive to everyone. 

“Aw, you don’t have to do that kiddo,” Patton said. “You can stay on the couch, I don’t mind.”

“It’s whatever,” he said, and it was like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head, the sudden distance separating Virgil from everyone else making him shudder, and his reply came out a lot more curt than he’d meant it to. “This is where you want me, right?”

Patton had lowered himself next to Logan and was peering at Virgil curiously, worried smile dropping to a slight frown. “You can sit wherever you want, kiddo. You know that.”

Virgil couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped. “Right. Just as long as it’s somewhere you won’t accidentally hug me again, right?”

The room was plunged into an uneasy silence. Great. He’d managed to make movie night awkward and the television hadn’t even been turned on yet.

“Kiddo, I--”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, guilt coiling in his gut. “It’s...sorry. I didn’t- I know you didn’t mean to. Just...long day.”

“We’ve all had a long day,” Roman snapped, sitting up from where he’d been leaning against Logan, and Virgil inadvertently found himself wondering how that would feel. “There’s no need to be rude to Patton, Negative Nancy.”

He was the one being rude? Him? After weeks of them treating Virgil like he was contagious and not even bothering to offer an explanation?

“Right,” he muttered. “I’m the asshole. Like always.”

“Virgil,” Logan spoke up, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone, and Virgil deflated. “We...understand your uneasiness. But between the three of us, physical contact has become something of a habit. We have been careful not to extend that to you, but habits take time to grow out of. And mistakes will be made.”

And Virgil...Virgil was pretty sure if he didn’t get out of this room right now he was going to burst into tears. They’d never actually talked about this before. He’d never heard them acknowledge that it wasn’t just his overactive imagination.

“I get that,” he said, voice painfully strained. “I do, I’m...I’m not trying to fight I just- just...do you guys have to be so obvious about it?”

Virgil risked a glance up, all three of them staring at him now with some form of hesitant uncertainty.

Logan cleared his throat and echoed Virgil’s request. “Obvious?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You guys don’t...I don’t get why you’ve all decided touching me is somehow the worst fucking thing in the world. I know...I know you won't touch me and it’s not like I blame you- trust me, I’ve met myself- but...you could at least maybe try not to treat me like I’m carrying the goddamn plague!”

His outburst was met with silence, the other side’s expressions unreadable, and Virgil’s heart sank when he realized his vision was becoming quickly clouded with tears.

He quickly started to backtrack. “I mean, I’m...sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to...it’s ok you guys. Really, it is. I get it, I’m...I’m Anxiety. Nobody wants...obviously you guys aren’t ever gonna--”

“Virgil,” Logan cut him off, and the logical side sounded...panicked? “I believe we may have had a very large misunderstanding. You...would you like us to engage in physical contact with you?”

Virgil hunched his shoulders, frantically blinking away tears. “I’m not...I’m not gonna make anyone...you don’t want to, and that’s fine. Really. I’m not mad, it’s ok.”

“Honey, no.” Patton sounded breathless when he spoke up, frantic. “That’s not it at all! We thought you didn’t want us touching you!”

Virgil froze, everything around him screeching to a stop, and for a moment he thought he must have misheard.

“I- you...what?” Why would they... how could they think that? He’d actually thought it was fairly obvious how badly he wanted it.

Roman stood up from the couch and crossed his arms. “Why on earth would we go out of our way to avoid touching you if it wasn’t to make you comfortable?”

Virgil blinked, suddenly completely lost. What the hell was going on? He’d thought they’d made their intentions pretty clear.

“I...why wouldn’t I want you guys to--?”

“Well, you certainly acted like it!” Roman snapped, and Virgil knew the Prince well enough by now to know he wasn’t angry, just stressed. “If you didn’t mind being touched, you wouldn’t act like we were trying to electrocute you every time we got too close!”

Patton reached up to put a hand on Roman’s arm, steadying him, but his gaze never left Virgil.

Virgil was starting to think this was all some kind of twisted dream his touch-starved mind had come up with, flipping everything around for the sole purpose of confusing him. This was...this was a joke, right? Some kind of excuse?

“What are you talking about?” he asked, ignoring how bad the tremble in his voice had gotten. “I didn’t...guys, it’s ok if you don’t want to touch me, I-I’m not gonna force you obviously, I just...never understood why it was a big deal. That’s all.”

Patton was shaking his head, hands moving to cover his mouth as Virgil spoke, and the moral side turned warily to Logan.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “We clearly could have...handled this differently. We’ve been purposely avoiding physical contact because based on your body language, we... I concluded that it made you uncomfortable.”

“It wasn't just you, Specs,” Roman said, his voice softer than when he’d been talking to Virgil. “We all clearly misunderstood. I- I still don’t quite...understand.”

The room was spinning, and Virgil did his best to blink away the dizziness washing over him, furiously wiping away a few stray tears that made their escape. He hoped no one noticed.

“I thought you just...didn’t want to. Because it’s...you know. Me.”

“Oh, kiddo.”

“What did I do?” he asked, suddenly terrified as to how he could have misread the situation so horribly for so long. “To...to make you guys think that?”

Logan blinked, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized Virgil from behind his glasses, and all three of them looked oddly confused by the question.

“I...Virgil, it’s been fairly easy to pick up on for some time now. Even before we learned your name.”

Patton frowned, taking a small step forward. “You got...really tense whenever someone would go to touch you, kiddo. Like you thought it was gonna hurt.”

“Earlier on, one of us moving like we planned on touching you would result in a flinch,” Logan added. “Later, as we got closer, we noticed you going very still. Like you were afraid. It wasn’t hard to avoid touching you before learning your name, but now…”

“We had to be more careful,” Roman jumped in. “Clearly that...wasn’t what you wanted.”

God Virgil was so stupid. This whole time he’d thought...for once he hadn’t even done anything wrong. And now all he’d managed to do was make everyone stressed and confused. He’d fucked everything up without even realizing.

They’d...they’d tried to touch him before? Before even learning his name? If he’d just been normal he could have avoided years of that cold, longing feeling settling in his chest?

He wondered if things would change now. Probably not, Virgil reasoned with himself, his throat tightening at the thought. He blew it. They’d just be upset with him now.

“I am...I am so sorry,” Logan said, and Virgil was having a difficult time following what was being said. “After getting to know you and your behavior patterns, I had concluded that your aversion to touch stemmed from sensory issues that can often relate to anxiety. Clearly, I should have asked you for confirmation.”

Logan sounded genuinely guilty, while Roman and Patton were looking at him softly. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d been wrong. They didn’t hate him, he’d just stupidly misunderstood their intentions.

But it was all cleared up now. It didn’t matter. He could suck it up and move on, just as long as he could keep the annoyingly persistent tears at bay for a little bit longer.

“It’s ok,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and hunching over himself when his breath caught in his throat. “It’s...i-it’s fine.”

God, he was so pathetic. He was pathetic. Why would anyone ever want to touch him?

“Obviously it’s not, sweetie.” Patton was suddenly in front of him, kneeling in front of the armchair. “We didn’t mean to hurt you, Virge, but it’s ok to be upset with us.”

Virgil shook his head, voice refusing to cooperate with his racing mind. He quickly wiped at the fresh tears, refusing to fall apart over something so stupid.

The next moment happened in a frantic blur, but everything clicked into place when it was over.

Patton carefully reached forward, moving to rest his hand on the anxious side’s knee, and Virgil’s heart squeezed in desperation and hope for the gentle, grounding touch he’d never been able to experience before.

His body ended up reacting differently, completely against his will. He tensed up completely, wide eyes locking onto Patton’s hand, his breathing stopping completely.

Patton noticed, of course. His face fell at the reaction, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

Oh. Virgil supposed it did look like he was scared rather than desperate. “S-sorry. I--”

“Don’t be sorry, kiddo,” Patton said, but he sounded hesitant. Disappointed. “It just...seems like you’re uncomfortable.”

“It’s...it’s not that,” Virgil managed. His voice was horribly unsteady, but he needed them all to understand that it wasn’t them- he was just too useless to control his own reactions. “I didn’t even realize I...I just have never had it before so I don’t...I don’t know how to--”

“Wait a second,” Roman said, Virgil quickly snapping his mouth shut. “What do you mean you’ve never had it?”

They were all staring at him, probably baffled and annoyed by his inconsistent rambling, and Virgil curled tighter in on himself, his cheeks burning.

“I...I’ve never, uhm…” He suddenly didn’t want to say it, all too aware of how little it mattered. This conversation should have been over a long time ago. “I’ve never been...you know. I-I’ve never...done it.”

Great, now it just sounded like he was speaking nonsense. But the others seemed to have some idea of what he was talking about, judging by the looks they were suddenly throwing each other. Roman was the only one who eventually spoke up.

“You- are you just talking about touch?” The Prince demanded, and Virgil shrank back. “Virgil, you’ve never been touched? At all?”

Virgil shrugged, dropping his gaze to his lap. “I mean, yeah. Not...not really. Other than, um, other than Patton hugging me today.”

But he’d seen Patton hug the others, and he knew what he’d gotten could barely count as one. Not that he had any right to complain. He’d be lucky if they didn’t shun him for the rest of his life after today.

“I’m sorry,” he said when the silence stretched on far too long to mean anything good. “I know, guys. I know it isn’t a big deal, I’m really really sorry for making it one, I just--”

“Virgil.” Patton’s voice came out more choked, more anguished than Virgil had expected, and then…

And then there was a hand on his face, cupping his cheek and brushing away the falling tears, and Virgil couldn’t breathe in the best way possible.

Patton’s hand was warm, enough to startle Virgil out of his spiraling panic for the moment, but his breath still hitched when he met the moral side’s watering gaze.

“Virgil,” he said again. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

Virgil blinked, still partly convinced this was a dream, heart racing in his chest. He couldn’t find his voice, eyes glued to Patton’s, but he managed a tiny nod.

It all happened so fast- suddenly Patton’s hands were wrapped around his own, pulling him off the chair and onto wobbling legs, and then he was being pulled forward...

Oh. Oh.

He fell against Patton’s chest, his head resting in the crook of the moral side’s neck, Virgil’s legs threatening to give out beneath him when Patton wrapped his arms around him and held on tight.

Virgil was sobbing before Patton even started rubbing circles on his back, rocking them both gently, hushing him softly.

He had no idea if he was doing this right, practically limp in Patton’s hold. His arms were just uselessly hanging there, hands wracked with violent tremors. But even if he did know what to do, he doubted he could force his body to move right now, only able to melt into the embrace as the living room filled with his miserable sobbing.

“Oh baby, it’s ok.” Patton was talking softly, his breath warm against Virgil’s ear, and he finally forced his hands to move up and clutch the other side’s shirt. “It’s ok, you’re ok. I’ve got you. We’ve all got you now. You’re alright.”

There was another hand cupping the back of his head, running fingers through his hair, and he caught a glimpse of Logan pressing up against them both. The movements of his fingers were slow and precise, burning Virgil’s freezing skin like the most pleasant fire, his words of reassurances lost to the sound of desperate cries.

And then Roman was there too, briefly meeting Virgil’s eyes with a sad but hopeful smile, suddenly moving around to join in and hug Virgil from behind.

He quickly realized that this, as overwhelming as it was for his first time, was the single best feeling in the entire world. He was certain that he would crash to the ground in a trembling heap if the others weren’t supporting his weight.

Virgil had never felt so warm. The brief hug in the kitchen had been nothing compared to this. He couldn’t stop shaking despite it, overwhelmed and so, so relieved, wanting nothing more than to melt into the embrace and never let go. He could stay here forever, wrapped up in safety and warmth, the rest of the cold, lonely world forgotten.

But eventually he cried himself out, sobs dying down to hiccuping gasps as he fought to get a hold of his breathing. Patton and Roman loosened their grip, Logan’s fingers slowing, but none of them pulled away just yet.

Virgil took in a shuddering breath. “I’m s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Patton said. “You don’t need to be sorry for a thing, kiddo.”

He clutched Patton’s shirt tighter, sucking in a breath when Roman moved to put a hand over his fist. “I- I thought y-you...you all--”

“We should have asked,” Patton said, pulling back enough to see Virgil’s face. “We should have realized you were hurting, honey. That’s our fault.”

“Not yours, Virge,” Roman agreed, leaning forward slightly to press his forehead against Virgil’s temple. “I can’t even imagine how isolated we must have made you feel. But that’s over now. We can fix this. We will fix this.”

“I do want to offer my sincere apologies,” Logan said. “We had all misread the behavior, but I was the one who enforced it after learning your name. I should never have jumped to conclusions so quickly.”

Virgil tried to shrug, but it quickly proved to be impossible with how tightly he was pressed against the others. He didn’t mind at all.

He wasn’t ready to let go yet, despite the way his stomach twisted at the guilt Logan didn’t deserve to be feeling, a dark part of his mind whispering that once he pulled away, the warmth would never come back.

“It’s ok,” he said, voice still raw and hoarse. “It was just a s-stupid misunderstanding, right? I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up, I- I know it’s not a big deal. It’s just a hug.”

It was a lie and they all knew it. Silly as it was, it meant the world to him. He would do just about anything to make this feeling last forever.

“Virgil, no.”

Patton was moving away, and Virgil felt a rush of blinding panic before Logan suddenly took his place, holding Virgil’s face in his hands, eyes wide and intense. Patton didn’t go far, his hand moving to clutch Virgil’s arm, and Roman only tightened his hold.

“It is not stupid, Virgil,” Logan said, tilting Virgil's chin up. “Not at all. I can assure you, it was far from an overreaction.”

“Logan--”

“Physical touch is essential for one’s mental health. Especially for those who experience heightened anxiety. I should have known... depriving you of any physical contact your entire life has left you incredibly touch starved, likely only worsening any symptoms you would naturally experience.”

Usually, Virgil found it fascinating listening to Logan, the way he so naturally took on a teaching position, spouting off information like he was reading from an invisible book.

Now, the dread and panic were clawing at his throat, and Virgil swallowed, forcing himself to speak. “Am I...am I hurting Thomas?”

The terror was overwhelming, doing all it could to convince him that the others would hate him, that Thomas would want him gone for good. But it didn’t last long, Logan shaking his head with an unbearably gentle expression.

“I am not talking about Thomas’s mental state.” He reached forward to brush away some of Virgil’s hair, looking oddly relieved when Virgil leaned into the touch. “I’m talking about yours.”

“Oh.”

Roman finally dropped his arms, but just like Patton he didn’t go anywhere, his chest still brushing Virgil’s back while he reached for one of his hands. Patton took his other one, both running gentle patterns over his knuckles with their thumbs.

Virgil felt like he was going to melt right here and now. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Since it seems you're comfortable with touch,” Logan said, and Virgil almost wanted to laugh. He was a little bit more than comfortable. “I’m hopeful we can undo any damage that has been caused. Tonight is already a good start.”

And that...that sounded amazing. It sounded more than amazing. It was all he’d wanted this whole time, years of bitter, icy cold loneliness already paling in comparison to the warmth and love he’d felt in the last ten minutes.

But...

“I...thank you. Thank you so much, but...I-I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t--”

“Kiddo,” Patton said. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself from hugging you?”

“All of us,” Roman added. “I’ve lost track of how many close calls I’ve had. I thought it was good you didn’t seem to notice how badly I wanted to, but...apparently not. But we love you, Virge. We love you so much.”

“We do!” Patton squeezed his hand. “We really, really do. You’re not forcing us into anything, kiddo. You’re family.”

Virgil kind of wanted to pinch himself to make absolutely sure this wasn’t a dream. But there was absolutely no way he could make up something this good.

“Ok,” he said, still wincing at how weak his voice sounded. “That’s...that’s good because I...I don’t think I could go back. Uh, to how it was. After...after all this. I-if this was just a one time thing, I don’t know what I’d do. And I know that’s dumb, this is literally my fault, but--”

“None of that,” Logan said, firm but not unkind, and Virgil fell silent. “This is far from a one time thing. I believe you’ll start having a hard time getting away from the hugs now.”

Virgil laughed, not really caring when it came out as more of a strangled sob. “I think I’m ok with that.”

“It’s still early,” Patton said. “You kiddos think we should take this to the couch? We can still watch some movies if you’re up to it, Virgil.”

As soon as he nodded, Virgil felt arms wrap around him again, one under his knees and one behind his back, lifting him up from the ground.

“Princey!” He wrapped his arms around Roman’s shoulders by instinct and froze, suddenly terrified he would be yelled at. But, he reminded himself, Roman was literally holding Virgil in his arms. Nobody found Virgil repulsive. “I can walk, dork.”

Roman grinned down at him, taking them both back towards the couch. Virgil found he really didn’t mind being carried when it ended up with him put down in the middle of the couch, still curled up in Prince’s hold with his head against Roman’s chest.

The others joined soon after, Patton grabbing the popcorn and sitting on Roman’s other side with his legs propped up on Virgil’s lap. Logan sat directly next to Virgil, his hand squeezing the anxious side’s shoulder before dropping his head to rest on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil shuddered, tensing against his will at the rush of sensations, but no one pulled away when he didn’t quite know how to reciprocate.

“Just relax now,” Roman said softly, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s hair while Patton got the movie started. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Virgil wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, only vaguely aware of himself drifting in and out of consciousness, still held safely by the others on the couch, an old familiar Disney movie playing in the background.

He thought his position might have been changed, but he still felt the rise and fall of Roman’s chest beneath his head, someone’s hand running gently through his hair.

For the first time, he felt safe upon waking up and let himself keep his eyes shut, breathing deeply.

“Is he asleep?” he heard Patton ask, the hand in his hair slowing for just a moment. “He really wore himself out today.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed from somewhere nearby. “Not to mention a common side effect of touch starvation is difficulty sleeping, nightmares, stress, a lower sense of self worth, dep--”

“But he’ll be ok now,” Patton said, thankfully cutting off Logan’s worryingly accurate description. “He’s got us, and he’s my kiddo. He never has to feel that way again.”

“It will take some time. And eventually we will have to have a talk about consent and boundaries- I don’t ever want him feeling overwhelmed. But you are accurate, Patton. He has us now. He will be alright.”

Virgil had to force himself not to smile, not quite ready for this to end for the night. He knew eventually he’d have to head back to his room, but the thought of being alone again, even just for the night, was--

“I don’t want him to wake up alone,” Roman whispered, like he could read Virgil’s mind. “Is it alright if we stay here tonight?”

“Of course, kiddo.”

“I am perfectly comfortable where I am.”

True to their word, none of them seemed inclined to leave the comfort of the couch, the movie’s volume eventually turned down to a faded hum.

Virgil sighed, relaxed and content, letting himself smile as he fell back into the first truly restful sleep he’d had in a long time, followed closely by warmth and love.

[hercleverboy]

the waiting room

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary ↠ the three times Y/N waited for spencer, and the one time he waited for her. (based off of this blurb)

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of death as a result of potential illness, spencer’s headaches, mri scans, swearing,  indefinite ending. 

word count ↠ 2.9k

dedicating this one to two of the literal loves of my life, @voidsfilm + @ellesgreenaway ♡

“What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer had always hated hospitals.

He found it so conflicting, how a place could hold so much hope for life and promise for the future, and yet also hold so much heartbreak and despair and agony.

The strong disinfectant smell wasn’t his favourite thing, either. He hated how the bright lights always irritated his eyes, and how the hallways all just looked the same, so bleak and lifeless.

Most of all, he hated the waiting room. 

The navy-blue carpet that lined the floors, wooden chairs that were always, without fail, extremely uncomfortable to sit in. The way that nurses and doctors would walk past the room, eyes full of pity and sorrow. With his job, he’d seen more waiting rooms than he would’ve liked. He spent more time than he wanted to in hospitals, talking to victims’ families, and even sometimes having to witness them receive such heartbreaking news. On one or two occasions, he’d even had to be the bearer of bad news himself, the one who had to tell expectant family that their loved one was gone. It only added to the list of reasons why he despised hospitals.

Then there was the other side of the coin. He took frequent trips to the hospital, but unfortunately more oftenly as a patient than an FBI agent. He wouldn’t say he was reckless, but he didn’t exactly put much value on his life. Or at least, he never used to. He figured it was because he was the only one on the team without a family to come home to, without people who were dependent on him. And so, if it came down to it, he would willing take off his Kevlar vest and put down his weapon while talking down a gun-wielding unsub. Of course, he’d get the third degree from Hotch later, but he could live with that. And then he met Y/N, and he realised that now he had someone counting on him, someone waiting for him to come back home to them, he couldn’t afford to be so careless in the field.

Though sometimes, despite Spencer’s best attempts, things still went wrong. Y/N had seen the inside of the hospital waiting room more than most, often because she’d get called by one of his team mates to alert her that he’d been injured in the field. And without him ever asking, she’d drop everything to be there for him, even if it was his own stupidity that had landed him in those situations. 

The first time was after he’d been shot in the knee. Y/N had been midway through her workday when she’d received a call from JJ telling her that Spencer had been injured. She knew that it was only a leg wound, that he would be absolutely fine, but that didn’t stop her from being worried. She’d been sat in the waiting room, waiting anxiously for a nurse to come by and update her. 

As soon as she got the all clear to see him, she’d breathed out a sigh of relief and made her way to his room,  catching his attention as soon as she entered.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, grimacing slightly at the pain shooting through his leg. “Hi.” 

She chuckled at that, moving to stand at his bedside. “Hi baby, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m ok.” He smiled, reaching up to tightly grasp one of her hands in his. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here, you know.” 

“Oh, stop.” She mumbled with a smile. “You know how much I worry about you.” 

He grinned at that, the warm feeling that he always got when he was with her spreading through him. He used the grip he had on her hand to pull her down to him, so his lips could meet hers in a sweet kiss. “Hotch has demanded I take some time off to rest, or whatever.” He murmured against her lips. “So, I’m all yours.” 

“Hmm, and what you mean by that is that you need someone to take care of you at home for a few days?” 

“Well, I did get shot in the leg, you know. Taking down the bad guy...” He gestured to his bandaged-up knee, a pout on his pretty pink lips. 

She let out a laugh at that, amused. “Alright, Superman. Let’s get you home, shall we?” 

The next time Y/N found herself in the hospital waiting room was a year later, when Spencer had been suffering from painful, unexplainable headaches. 

Initially, Spencer hadn’t wanted her to attend his MRI scan appointment, but it didn’t take much convincing for her to assure him that she wanted to be there for him. He’d held her hand in a vice-like grip on the drive to the hospital, only letting go when the nurse called his name to tell him they were ready for him. She’d kissed the back of his hand before he’d left, a whispered promise leaving her lips before he went, “I’ll be right here waiting.”

She looked around the empty waiting room, took note of its greying walls and stained carpet, and how awfully uncomfortable the chairs were. She thought of anything and everything that could distract her from the way she was feeling at that moment- knowing how scared her boyfriend was that there was something was wrong with him. 

Spencer came back to the waiting room an hour later, both relieved to see that his girl was indeed still waiting for him but frustrated with what little the doctor had told him. 

“Hey!” Y/N sat up straighter, putting on a smile for the sake of her boyfriend. “How’d it go?” 

Spencer just shook his head. “He says there’s nothing physically wrong with me. He suggested I should consider that it’s something more mental, but he’s wrong- he’s wrong, Y/N.” He sat down in the chair next to her, seeking comfort in her arms as he whimpered into the crook of her neck. “I’m not- I’m not crazy, am I?” 

And the truth was, she didn’t know. She was so afraid for him, worried that he was sick, dying, perhaps of something that the doctors hadn’t detected yet. It terrified her. Her hands ran up and down the expanse of his back, attempting to soothe his weeps the best that she could. Spencer grabbed fistfuls of the back of her shirt and breathed in the scent of her hair as deeply as he could to try and ground himself.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” 

That broke her heart to hear, but all she could do was nod in understanding, hoping her words would offer him some form of comfort. “I know, I know. We’ll figure this out, ok? Everything is going to be alright.” 

The next time Y/N inside of a waiting room was on what she could only refer to as the worst night of her life.

There were no words that could encompass the plethora of emotions she went through when she’d received a phone call from JJ, “Spencer has been shot. It’s- It’s pretty bad, Y/N. You need to come quickly.” 

When she got to the waiting room, she saw JJ and Alex sat opposite one another, a worry that made Y/N’s stomach sink on both their faces. She hurried towards them, tears blurring her vision. “Have you had any updates? Is he ok?” 

JJ looked up, shaking her head sadly. 

“What happened?” Y/N asked, her voice wavering. 

“He got shot in the neck. He pushed me out of the way.” Alex sighed, as though she was still in disbelief that he’d done that to save her. 

Y/N stared ahead in shock, dropping down into the seat beside Alex. Of course, of course, Spencer would risk his life to protect Alex. Y/N knew how fond he was of his colleague, how he idolised her, saw her as a sort of mother figure, even. 

Eventually JJ got called back to work, with Alex insisting that she’d stay with Y/N and wait for Spencer to wake. 

Y/N was so sick and fucking tired of the waiting room. Before, she hadn’t minded it, it had even bought a sense of comfort to her- because she was in a hospital, where they saved lives. But now? The familiar walls and dull navy-blue carpet made her feel nauseous. Not knowing whether her boyfriend was going to live or die was incomparable to any other time she’d found herself waiting in the same four walls. She was feeling everything and nothing all at once, she wanted to cry and scream, curse the universe for once again hurting a man that had done nothing in his life but protect others. Hell, part of her even wanted to laugh- laugh at the absurdity of the situation. If he died, - god, if he died - the world would’ve robbed him of a lifetime with her, the chance to live the life that he deserved.

She barely registered that Alex had left her side to bring her a coffee until she sat back down beside her. Y/N looked over at her, giving her a small smile as she gratefully accepted the coffee. 

Y/N brought the cup to her lips, relishing in how the hot liquid brought her a sense of warmth, and she wondered if she’d ever feel Spencer’s warmth again. She sucked in a shaky breath, speaking the first words she’d said in all the hours they’d been waiting. “You know he wants kids?” 

Alex looked over at her, sad smile tugging at her lips. “I do.” 

Y/N nodded, sniffing. “He’d be a phenomenal father.” 

“He would.” 

Y/N let out a small cry, trying desperately to hold herself together. “What if I never get the chance to give him that, Alex?” She cried, body finally giving in to the painful ache that consumed her entire being. 

Alex placed an arm around her, allowing the younger woman to lean on her shoulder for support. “You’ll get the chance. Spencer is strong, he’ll pull through.”

And sure enough, Alex had been right. When Y/N had been told he was awake, she couldn’t describe the relief that flooded her. After meeting Penelope in the hallway and being given a much-needed hug, she took a few deep breaths before walking into Spencer’s room. When her eyes landed on him, she felt the tears start to well again. She had to remind herself that despite the bandage on his neck and the numerous machines hooked up to him, he was there, and he was alive. 

She came towards him with the best smile she could muster, and he looked up at her with a drowsy smile.

“Hi.” She whispered, standing beside his bed. 

He grinned up at her, reaching out for her hand just like he always did. “Hi.” 

She squeezed his hand gently, reminding herself again that he was ok, though she couldn’t prevent the tears that began to tremble down her cheeks. 

Spencer’s heart throbbed at the sight, and he allowed himself to imagine the pain she must’ve been through, having to wait for hours to see if he was alive. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not the woman he loved more than anything else. “It’s alright, sweet girl. I’m alright.” He promised, wishing more than anything that he could pull her into his arms and soothe her, though the pain in his neck prevented him from doing so. 

“I could’ve lost you.” She whimpered, her other hand coming out to delicately trace the side of his face. 

“I’m right here.” He gave her hand three squeezes just to emphasise his point. 

She leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “You can’t ever scare me like that again.” 

Spencer chuckled lowly, nodding. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Promise me?” 

And though it was a promise they both knew he couldn’t keep, he granted her the reassurance that she craved. 

“I promise.” 

Y/N knew that wasn’t the last time she’d be sat in the waiting room, scared and anxious and hoping that the love of her life was ok. She knew there would always be a ‘next time’, no matter how many self-serving promises she asked Spencer to make. What she didn’t plan for, was that the next time she saw the inside of a hospital, it would be her fighting for her life. 

It had been a slow day at work for Spencer, with him managing to complete a majority of his withstanding paperwork. He sat at his desk, focused on how he twirled his pen between his fingertips, willing the clock to move faster so he could go back home when his phone rang, Y/N’s name flashing across the screen. 

He answered eagerly, though all eagerness was wiped away when it wasn’t her voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hi there, I’m looking for a Dr Spencer Reid?” 

Spencer’s mind raced, and he swallowed thickly before squeaking out an answer. “That’s me.” 

“I’m calling on behalf of Y/N Y/L/N, you’re registered as her emergency contact.” 

“Is she ok?” He croaked out, begging and pleading internally that all the worst-case scenario’s running through his head wouldn’t come to fruition. 

“She was involved in a severe road collision. You’re going to want to come down here-”

Everything past that was drowned out by the sound of Spencer’s heart beating quicker, so loudly he could hear it. He hung up, gathering his things together as quickly as he could and rushing toward the doors of the bullpen- running directly into one Derek Morgan. 

“Woah, easy there, kid. You got somewhere to be?” He joked at first, but erased all hints of a smile from his face when he saw the tears filling the younger man’s eyes. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” 

Spencer couldn’t form a sentence, only managing to splutter out a few barely strung together words. “It’s Y/N, she’s- she’s been in an a-accident and I need, I have to get to her.” 

Morgan’s eyes widened, nodding in understanding. “Alright, ok. You’re in no condition to be driving, let me take you.” 

Spencer wasn’t about to argue, already making his way toward the elevator. 

*

Spencer had always hated hospitals. 

But he’d also decided that he really fucking hated the waiting room. 

The doctors didn’t have any updates for him, no matter how many times he asked. So, he’d been forced to sit in that damned room and wait. 

He thought of how cruel the concept of the waiting room was. Waiting for either good or bad news, waiting to hear the words that would either fill him with relief or dread, signify the start of his life or the end. How cruel was it that people had to sit and wait, with the weight of the world on their shoulders and just hope their loved one was ok? 

With the first hour brought Spencer’s upset, tears trembling down rosy cheeks and whimpered words of disbelief that he could lose the woman he loved. He’d sat in the uncomfortable blue chair with his head in his hands as sobs wrecked through his body, with Morgan sat next to him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

The second hour brought with it a slither of hope, as a doctor came out to update them. Though it wasn’t good nor bad news, just that Y/N was still in surgery and was expected to be so for the next few hours. Spencer had again buried his head in his hands, his thoughts racing. The rest of the team arrived, joining the sombre atmosphere of the waiting room. 

The third hour saw Spencer grow agitated, angry with himself for not being with her, for not protecting her, despite how many times the team attempted to reassure him that there was nothing he could’ve done differently. They brought him cups of coffee with gentle reassurances, empty promises that Y/N would be fine, that she would pull through, but how could they possibly know that? 

In the fourth hour, Spencer sat staring blankly at the wall. He reminded himself of the future he’d dreamt of time and time again, and how he couldn’t imagine himself having that life with anyone else but her. He recalled the location of the velvet purple box he’d bought just a few months prior, hidden amongst pairs of his mismatched socks in the second drawer of his nightstand. What if he never got the chance to propose? To give her the life that he’d promised her time and time again when it was 3am and he was holding the love his life as close to his chest as he could get her. After all he’d done, the years of his life he’d given to helping to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, this was the thanks he got? What a sick twist of fate that was. 

By the fifth hour, he was exhausted. His eyes drooped but he fought to keep them open, choosing to ignore the pitiful looks JJ shot him when she saw him fighting sleep. He would wait for her, just like all the times she had waited for him. He recognised how the way that he felt must’ve been how Y/N had felt after he’d been shot the year before, and the thought almost made him sick. He ran over all the possible outcomes in his head, allowing his eyes to close for a single moment as he mentally calculated the statistical probabilities of each outcome. He despised how helpless he felt. For a man whose job was to help others in need, he’d never been a position before where he didn’t have the answer, where he couldn’t come up with a solution. His heart ached as the realisation that he could very well lose her settled over him, the statistic he’d calculated of her survival being a number that was way too low for Spencer’s liking. 

For the moment, he had no choice but to wait. 

It was all he could do. 

*

permanent taglist: @beyonces-breastmilk​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @thelovelyrose​ @averyhotchner​ @cynbx​ @calm-and-doctor​ @reidyoulikeabook​ @katexrichardson​ @jemimah-b99​ @muffin-cup​ @shadyladyperfection​ @rigatonireid​ @amoeebaa​ @mggsprettygirl​  @alltooreid​ @s1utformgg @awritingtree

spencer reid taglist: @reidtome

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 6

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine. Here we are at the final part!

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral and unprotected, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit and my photos of Murano & Burano)

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

{…𝕠𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖?}

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy awoke early the next morning, reaching over to his phone on the bedside table and tapping the screen to see what time it was. Seven. Plenty of time to have a shower and make his way down to the breakfast room.

Standing under the stream of hot water, he couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. What if she had done another runner? He wouldn’t be able to cope with that. He didn’t think she would have, but…. he just wasn’t 100% sure what she was thinking or feeling right now.

After his full disclosure of what he’d got up to with Madani followed swiftly by his confession of love last night, he felt more optimistic but he could tell she was still conflicted.

He’d just have to do whatever he could today to persuade her to give him another chance.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Making your way into the light and airy breakfast room at just after eight, you couldn’t deny you were pleased to see Billy, sitting up super straight like a well-behaved schoolboy, already at a table.

His face broke into a huge smile when he spotted you, and you could see a large measure of relief wrapped up in it. You knew he would’ve been wondering if you had run out on him again. But no, you’d decided overnight to at least see how things went today on your trip to the Lagoon Islands.

He’d thrown you a curveball by telling you he loved you last night, and while you were relieved to hear that he hadn’t slept with that woman (his anger when you’d pushed him on it had finally convinced you that he hadn’t), you still weren’t exactly happy with what he had admitted to doing. It was still cheating in your book.

Could you ever really trust him again?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy fussed over her like a mother hen when she sat down across from him at the table, jumping up and rushing over to the buffet table, picking out a selection of toast, focaccia, butter, jams and Nutella for her along with a couple of mini pain au chocolat croissants. They were her favourites so he felt quite proud of himself as he laid the plate before her like the spoils of war, before making his way to the coffee machine and creating a cappuccino for her.

“Thank you, Billy - you’re spoiling me,” she said with a small grin. “Your every wish is my command, Princess,” he smiled back, hand covering hers and stroking gently. Now she started properly laughing at him, and he huffed, slightly offended. Once she’d calmed down a bit she said, “Honestly Billy, you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot. All I need from you is complete honesty.” Billy tried to look as convincing as he possibly could, “I will be, sweetheart, I promise.”

She took a sip of her cappuccino, and fixed him with an intense stare. “Bearing that in mind, Billy, just what exactly was going through your mind when you were making out with Madani?”

Billy blew out a big breath; he hadn’t seen that coming. “Well… uhh… nothin’ really. I was just doing somethin’ I had to do, and needed to get it over with as quick as possible.” Another sip of coffee, another intense look from her. “Uh-huh. So you didn’t enjoy it then? Is that what you’re saying?”

Billy suddenly felt like he was back on very thin ice. He could feel himself squirming in his seat, and fought to keep still. Madani was, in all truth, a pretty woman.

Fuck.

What should he say in reply to that?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes were drilling into Billy’s, and he looked about as comfortable as someone who’d just found out he’d got a scorpion down his trousers.

His face flushed pink, so you could guess what that meant. He cleared his throat, and then said in a low voice, “Look, she’s not bad lookin’ so it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it could’ve been.”

You smirked, not ready to let him off the hook yet, “So you were attracted to her, then. Not sure I’m happy to hear that, Billy.”

“NO! No, I wasn’t. Well.. like I said, she’s not unattractive but I’m not interested in her.”

You picked up your knife and aggressively sliced right through one of croissants. The look on Billy’s face was priceless. No doubt he’d guessed that the croissant was a surrogate for a certain part of his anatomy.

“Sweetheart, they weren’t long or involved kisses… not real ones, not like between you an’ me,” he said in a worried tone, very unlike his usual assertive manner. “Sweetheart, you’re the one I’m in love with. The only one I want to be with.” He was gazing earnestly at you, hand covering yours.

You cut off another piece of croissant and popped it into your mouth.

Billy would have to work a hell of a lot harder than that today if he was going to get you back, you thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Once the vaporetto had moored alongside the jetty you walked on board the boat up the ramp in front of Billy, while the disembarking passengers walked down the other side of it as it swayed from side to side, the boat moving in its own wake. The crew member who’d expertly tied up the boat a few moments ago was still calling out “Palanca, Palanca” as you headed through the covered section to the open area right at the back, sitting down on the bench seat in the stern and turning your face up to the sun.

Billy sat next to you, scooting as close to you as he could, suddenly lunging in for a hungry kiss. Two mothers with children in tow emerged through the doors leading from the salon, and you pushed him away while hastily smiling at the newcomers, saying, “Giorno” to them. Both of them smiled at you, returning your greeting, but then their eyes slid over to Billy and you saw both sets widening as they looked him over. You sighed. Having a hot boyfriend sucked sometimes. And Billy was looking particularly hot today in leather jacket, white t-shirt, black jeans and combat boots.

However, you noticed that Billy’s eyes were glued to you, still gazing at you ever since you’d fended him off. You didn’t think he’d even glanced at the other two women.

OK, Russo - one point on the plus side to you, you conceded.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was paying full attention to his girl. He felt slightly triumphant that he’d managed to steal a kiss, and she’d only shoved him away when he’d vaguely heard the salon doors opening behind him.

He was so worried that she still hadn’t made her mind up whether to take him back or not, and he knew that today was his final chance to convince her to do so. Whatever was in his power to do, he’d do, to make that happen. And he wasn’t dumb, that meant not paying any attention whatsoever to any other females in the vicinity. He’d guessed that a couple of women had arrived along with the kids he could hear squealing and laughing just out of his sight line, so he made sure he kept his eyes trained solely on her.

Her lips curved upwards in a small smile as she looked back at him.

Pleased, he thought - ha, think I just scored a point there.

He wondered how many more of those he needed to rack up to finally win his woman back.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

There were no direct vaporetti lines to the Lagoon Islands so you had to firstly go to Fondamente Nove, which was a busy hub for several of the numerous lines. You wanted to visit two of the main islands; Murano - where Venetians had made their famed glass items for centuries - and Burano, an island of fishermen and lacemakers. You were really excited to go there, as the houses were painted in a rainbow of colours. Legend had it that this was so the returning fishermen could spot their own individual houses as they returned home across the lagoon.

You needed to find the ferry stop for Line 12, which luckily Billy spotted just as the two of you were about to walk right past it. There was a vaporetto arriving just as you did and swiping your travel passes, you went aboard and took seats in the salon. This ferry was a slightly different type to the others you’d been on, longer and lower and was soon packed with locals and tourists alike.

It took a little while to arrive at Murano, alighting at the Faro stop. They still produced glassware on Murano but nothing like as much as they had in the past. You and Billy wandered alongside one of the main canals, looking into the windows of all the little glass shops until you came to the entrance of one of the big glass foundries.

They offered tours of the workshop and of course also had a shop, so the two of you paid for the tour and watched in amazement as an old man took a fiery red and yellow blob onto the end of a pole, and blew and turned it until it started to take on the shape of a little vase.

In the store, you browsed along the shelves looking at all the glassware on display, until you suddenly noticed you were alone. Glancing around, you spotted a dark head over in the corner at the cash desk and were heading over there when Billy turned round. His trademark smirk appeared and he hurriedly picked up the little paper carrier bag which was on the counter by its handles and strode towards you.

“See anything you like, sweetheart?”

Smirk getting wider. You eye-rolled and grabbed his arm, noting at the same time that the female sales assistant was still gawping at Billy, even though he now had his back to her. You tugged him towards the door, asking, “What’ve you just bought?” as you went. He shook his head, “Can’t say. It’s a surprise.” You glared at him, “Billy….” but he just kept grinning as you left the store and wouldn’t say anything, even though you nipped at his wrist just below his leather jacket sleeve with your nails.

“Wanna get a coffee?” he suggested, as you resumed your canalside stroll. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, stopping next to the outdoor tables of a small caffé and sitting down, Billy joining you. He slid his hand over yours, “M’glad we’ve got this time together today, sweetheart. Wanna make you understand just how much you mean to me.”

You nodded in acknowledgment before waving at the waiter and ordering two double macchiatos. You carried on, “The main problem I have, Billy, is how I’m ever going to trust you again? You might not think you cheated, but that’s what it is in my book.”

Billy looked over at you, eyes wide, sad …and scared.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had then looked up and thanked the waiter as the coffees were placed in front of you both. He really didn’t know what to say, to be honest. He knew Frank - and no doubt Karen - also thought that it had counted as cheating. But he truly hadn’t. Well…. Cheating Lite, as he’d already designated it in his head. But not proper, down-and-dirty, long-term cheating. It had been a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. He just hadn’t considered the bigger picture. At all. And that had been a big mistake.

He took a sip of his coffee, and cleared his throat before spilling out what had just gone through his head. “Y’know I’m not exactly an expert at relationships, angel. In fact, I’m sure you’ll agree I’m totally shit at them. I need you to keep me on the straight and narrow. Tell me how things need to be. Please don’t give up on us, don’t leave me… please.” Billy was completely and utterly pouring out his heart to her, and he prayed she could see that.

His girl looked at him, some anger and hurt still in her eyes but she managed a shaky breath and looked down into the depths of her coffee cup for a few moments.

Billy held his breath.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes met his again, “But how am I going to trust you again, Billy, tell me that? Every time you say you’re working late, how d’you expect me not to think you’re meeting up with her or someone else?”

Now it was Billy’s turn to look down. The silence stretched out to a few minutes, and you did nothing to break it. Eventually he looked up at you again, “M’tryin’ to think of how I can prove to you that I’ll never, ever, do something like that again - whether it’s work-related or not.”

He reached across and slid his long fingers between yours, holding onto your hand so tightly it felt like he’d never let go.

“Firstly, I give you my word as an ex-Marine that I won’t ever pull a stunt like this again. Secondly, I’ll be the most attentive boyfriend you’ve ever had. In and out of the sack.” You tried to hide a smile, but you knew he’d seen it. “Thirdly, I’ll put a tracker on my phone, and I’ll hack you into my messagin’ and email apps so you’ll have absolute access to my location and comms.” He was smirking back at you by now, he felt this was going pretty well.

“But you’ve got access to burner phones, Billy.”

His smile dimmed, while his brain scrambled to come up with a solution to this inconvenient fact. You saw his eyes light up and the smirk returned, “Easy. I’ll put Frank in sole charge of issuing them and I’ll tell him not to give me any unless it’s absolutely necessary for an op.”

“Could just buy them in Walmart’s,” you dropped into the slight pause after he’d finished speaking. His face fell again, and now you burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, Billy - I get the message. I see that you’re doing your best to be honest and transparent. There’s no need for you to put all that tracking and hacking in place.”

Billy beamed at you.

“I’ll just get Micro to track your ass.”

His mouth dropped open as you spoke.

“And monitor all your calls and texts.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Woah! thought Billy, didn’t think she’d be getting King Nerd involved. That was probably Karen’s idea. Gee, thanks Karen. But he would agree, what else could he do? And he’d offered to track himself, so it didn’t really matter in any case, did it?

“Uhhh…” he stuttered, “….uhh yeah, whatever you like, sweetheart.”

She smiled over at him, a genuine smile. “It’s OK, Billy. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She side-eyed him, “Unless you give me good cause. Like… coming home stinking of another woman’s perfume ever again.”

His hand went over his heart, and he put on his best puppydog eyes. “Angel, I swear on my life - never. Never. Ever. Again.”

She nodded. “Okay, Billy, I’ll take that as you being on oath now, just like when you joined the Marines.” His eyes widened and he nodded fast. “Yeah. I am. I’m on oath.”

He watched as she drained the very last few drops of her coffee. “Okay, Russo! Let’s go,” she said standing up and picking up her bag.

“Yes, ma’am!” He jumped up and saluted, taking his place at her side as they retraced their steps to the Faro stop and their next vaporetto.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d hopped onto the next Line 12 ferry which arrived, and recommenced your onwards journey to Burano. Sitting inside the salon again, the loud chatter around you from the mostly local passengers almost drowned out any conversation you and Billy tried to have. He finally leaned right up against you, snaking his arm round your waist, his lips against your ear.

“Got you a little somethin’, sweetheart.” He handed you the gift bag.

Opening it, you saw a mass of tissue paper inside the bag and took it out. “Careful!” he warned, so you slowly opened up the paper and saw a delicate rose pink heart trinket box sitting at its centre. You lifted its little lid up and then replaced it, delighted with it. Smiling at Billy, you said, “I love it!” into his ear and kissed his cheek. His lips returned to your ear, “See? You have my heart.”

Now you rolled your eyes heavenwards, “I’d stop there if I were you, Russo. Cheesy really doesn’t suit you!” He burst out laughing. “Hey! Give a guy a break. He’s over here layin’ his heart and soul right out in front of you.”

You leant in and kissed him on the lips, before pulling back and saying, “And don’t read too much into that!” But Billy was already grinning happily back at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was happy. His steps were light as he walked beside her from the vaporetto stop along a small street, lined with stalls and shops selling souvenirs and lacework, which eventually led to a square.

She loved the trinket box! he thought, very pleased with himself. The minute he’d seen it he knew that she would, and had decided to buy it on the spot. While he didn’t want her to think he was trying to buy her back, he’d just wanted to make some gesture to show her that he treasured her, the same way she’d treasure the little things she put in it.

He blurted all of this out to her as they strolled along. She stopped walking and looked at him, amazed, “Billy Russo! I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He felt shy suddenly, and he could feel his face heating up. What was happening to him? Is this what love did to you? He didn’t hate it. “It’s how I feel,” he mumbled, looking away from her. He felt her hand on his cheek, “Well, keep that up and maybe, just maybe…”

She turned and started walking again, and Billy hurried to catch up with her. I won’t push it, he thought, I’ll just leave it be while I’m on a winning streak.

There was another street leading off the square which was full of trattorias and caffés, and they chose one of the restaurants to sit outside, the tables rapidly filling as more people from the vaporetto stop arrived.

She’s definitely looking at me more kindly, he thought. Things might just be okay after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a delicious lunch of pasta and several glasses of wine, you and Billy started exploring the little canals and streets with their cute colourful houses. They looked so bright and beautiful in the sunlight, and you imagined the fishermen back in the day sailing home and being able to see their own little house from afar.

You reached the waterside, beside a quiet little square with houses all around it and some grass in the middle, clothes on washing lines strung across it, blowing in the breeze. There was no-one else around and suddenly you found yourself pressed up against the wall of one of the houses, Billy’s long fingers on the nape of your neck, his hand on your waist. His dark chocolate eyes were gazing into yours, a soft look in them. But you could also feel something a lot harder pressing into your hip, and you saw desire spark in his eyes.

His mouth was on yours and he kissed you, the sudden passion of which took you by surprise. He pulled back, his forehead touching yours. “I’ve missed your touch so much,” he whispered, “…every minute of every day since you.. since you left me.” You laid your hand on his chest, “I missed you too, Billy - even if I did hate you at the time.” He chuckled, “Do you still hate me?” You looked into those beautiful eyes, “No, I guess I don’t. Although you’re still walking a line, Billy.”

He nodded, “I know. I do know. But promise me you’ll give me another chance?” You smiled at him, pushing yourself away from the wall and him, “Let’s see, shall we?”

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Billy tapped on her hotel room door, and gave her a devilish grin as she opened it. He’d made sure to wear a white tank and a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms. He knew she liked him in those.

She was already in her sleepwear - an oversized Anvil T which she’d stolen from him ages ago - and leant against her door, looking back at him, amused. “Why Billy, whatever brings you here?”

He just kept grinning at her and also leant against her doorframe. As if she didn’t know, he thought. She’d had to spend the entire journey back from Burano fending off his hands and mouth.

“Just checkin’ you’re OK, sweetheart. See if there’s anything you need.”

She laughed. “And what could I possibly need, Billy?”

He angled his body so that she couldn’t fail to get a great view of his toned torso and more importantly, the very obvious outline of his erection showing in his joggers. If there was one thing Billy had complete confidence in, it was the effect his body had on women.

“I can think of one or two things, sweetheart.”

He was ecstatic when her hand reached out and grabbed him round the back of his neck, pulling him into her room. “Uhuh… maybe you should show me what those are.”

Billy’s grin got twice as wide.

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You gave a huge sigh as Billy pushed inside you, hearing an answering one from him and you ran your hands up into his lush hair. You couldn’t deny it, you had missed him. And his enthusiastic lovemaking.

However you were a little taken aback when he began moving slowly and sensually on you, instead of his usual frenetic pace. He was stroking your hair, placing little kisses all over your face and neck, running his hands over your body, whispering “I love you, love you so much” between his languid thrusts. He slid a hand down and massaged your clit, so well that you climaxed within a few short moments. Not long afterwards, you heard him gasp and he released into you, with a long groan.

The two of you lay in silence, side by side but still entwined. Then Billy leant across and kissed you, softly, slowly, with passion. “I can’t be without you, angel.” The puppydog eyes were out in force again as he gazed at you, “Please. Gimme another chance. I’ll be a better boyfriend, a million times better.”

You continued to look back at him, then gave a quick nod, “Okay. Yes, okay Billy. But one… just one transgression…” His hands went up in supplication, “Understood! Not one transgression will be made.”

“And you make sure to tell that thirsty bitch back in New York that her little dates with you won’t be happening anymore.”

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“Already done.”

He saw her eyebrows rise.

Oh. Oh, she thinks that means I’ve been in touch with her.

“No, sweetheart…. Frankie took care of that for me while I’ve been away.”

She smirked, “Pleased to hear it.”

Billy let out a sigh of relief, he was going to have to be so careful over the next few months. He’d only just got her back! He couldn’t let a stupid, chance remark or two ruin it. He ran his hand over her hair again. “I’m so happy, y’know? M’never going to take you for granted again.” He saw her smile widen in the darkness of the room.

“But, sweetheart, you gotta promise me something too.” She looked at him, puzzled, amused, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. No more runnin’ out on me and flyin’ halfway round the world.”

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