#this post was brought to you by my ass being fucking done with net

[im-smart-i-swear]

aroace nika mickiewicz. is this anything

[sinkix]

Haikyuu!! │Boys reaction to you calling them ‘Daddy’│ Ft. Daichi, Iwaizumi, Kuroo & Kageyama

Okay SO, I took inspo from @animewh0re ‘s  ‘Kuroo Tetsurou x Accidental Daddy HC’  post so big shout out to her ly bb - be sure to give them a follow <3

For this post I picked some of the characters I felt would be more likely to have a daddy kink so their reactions would be the most interesting/comical whether the reader was doing it was intentionally or not. There were some others I had in mind that I may make into a second part. I got a little carried away writing these as you will see lmao, oopsie.

! All characters are 18+ - Contains NSFW content !

My Ko-fi  - Because a caffeinated Kix is a productive one.

Without further ado, enjoy ! ~

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･

Daichi:

I feel like Daichi low-key already knew he had a daddy kink

Like somewhere deep in that dudes soul he just had a fuckin hunch.

However he never brought it up to you because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, being the kind and considerate dude he is.

One night you were both just relaxing and watching a movie, he was tracing his finger along your thigh because let’s face it he is 100% a thigh man.

At some point you began getting restless, so you shifted yourself to face him, propping yourself up against his knee as you leaned down to kiss him, cupping your hands around his cheeks. He grunts in approval, cheekily sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass, using the moment of surprise to slide his tongue in and deepen the kiss. He’s pretty crafty when he wants to be.

After a few minutes you could feel yourself growing impatient, raising the hem of your baggy shirt and grinding your clothed slit against the ridges of his thigh. 

Daichi’s weakness #8 activated, thigh riding.

He drags his palms against your hips, taking control of your vigorous movements and forcing more pressure against your cunt and causing you to whimper. Lowering your head next to his, soft moans grace against the shell of his ear in wisps that send shivers down his spine.

You can sense Daichi’s own dwindling patience as the momentum becomes desperate with the way he’s now hastily grinding your hips down onto him, groaning at the sensation of your juices dripping through the thin fabric and cooling against the skin of his thigh.

All of a sudden a long and breathy “Mhmmm~ daddy” escapes your lips, and this dude is so taken aback.

Snapping your head up to face him, his eyes are glazed over with an intensity enough to make your core tremble, your cheeks flushing at the realisation of what you just blurted out starts to sink in. 

“Fuck, I want to hear you say that again baby.”

Without warning he flips you over and on to the couch, hovering over you as his hips buck against the wetness covering your clothed core, eliciting more moans as he sucks on the tender skin of your neck.

“A-ah daddy...” 

“more.”

His tone was desperate and commanding, only further igniting the pleasure growing between the two of you.

Trailing his hands down to the edge of your underwear and slipping them inside, his fingers find their way to your clit and rub the area in soft, circular motions, sucking harder against the skin of your neck and streeling his tongue along the bruised aftermaths.

“Daddy..”

“Again.”

You didn’t pay any mind to the rest of the movie, and you both had a lot of fun with this new found kink the two of you shared.

Iwaizumi:

Since Iwa radiates big dom energy and you cannot convince me otherwise, I feel like he is also one that just has a hunch that this is something he’s into.

You already have a hella Dom x Sub relationship sexually so this experimentation was probably long awaited. A slip up no less, and an embarrassing one.

It was a late Friday evening after school, the sun was already long gone yet you were still helping Iwa and Oikawa practise by tossing for them as many times as they requested. How they weren’t already beyond the point of burn out you didn’t know.

Glancing at the wall clock which read ‘8:23pm’, Iwa huffed and rubbed the back of his head. “All right, it’s time to call it a night.” “But Iwa-chaaaann--” Oikawa interjected. “No. Plus, I’m sure (Y/N) is exhausted by now hm?” He whips round to face you and you nod in agreement, eyes hooding from fatigue at the long days events. “Fineee.” Oikawa grumbles, pouting his lips playfully and sending you a wink, rolling your eyes and sticking your tongue out at him in response.

A few minutes later, most of the balls and club equipment are packed away. You’re tossing the last few balls into the basket when Iwa saunters up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist which sends the ball tumbling across the floor. 

“Ah, daddy don’t-” 

silence.

Pure. utter. silence.

The words had escaped from your mouth before you could stop them.

The sound of the ball rolling echoes throughout the room and you can feel Iwa’s entire body tense up while in his hold, hands digging into your hips as he lets out a low grunt. You sheepishly look in Oikawa’s direction, who’s shooting you both a glance as if to say ‘so this what y’all get up to?’ Attempting to stifle his snickers and the sudden light his face has been brightened with.

Little did he know this was the first time you had actually called him that, and it was raging a lustful fire through his body. The body now roughly thrusted up against you.

You had a feeling Iwa would never hear the end of this.

Walking a fine line between pressing against your body and full on grinding, he utters his next few words as abruptly as possible. 

“You can head on out Oikawa, me and (Y/N) will finish up cleaning.”

This only furthers his amusement, the cogs in his head turning as he gives a quick nod, strolling toward the gym doors painstakingly slow as if savouring every last ounce of tension brewing in the air. “Ooookay, have fun, daddy-chan.” The howls of his laughter can be heard even after the doors swing shut, you two stay rigid until his voice fades off in the distance.

“Follow me, now.” 

Without waiting for a response, he grabs you by the wrist and drags you into the storage room, slamming you against the locker, he stares down at you hungrily as his lips crash against yours, hands ravaging every curve of your body. Pulling away, a string of saliva connects as his lips brush against the crook of your neck. “I want you to say that again, little slut.” Snaking into the waistband of your shorts and dragging a digit against your slit, the words flow out effortlessly. “D-daddy please...” 

“Fuck, I’m going to have so much fun with you, kitten.”

And fun with you he did.

Kuroo:

Y’all are always clowning and pulling some buffoonery on each other so this time you figured you’d kick it up a notch.

Kenma and Kuroo were talking while the rest of the team were doing warm-down stretches after practise. 

Cue operation ‘Make Kuroo squirm’. Commencing stage 1.

Lingering behind Kuroo, you rest your chin on his shoulder and fold your arms around his waist, pulling him in for one of your behind-hugs that he adores.

oh how naive he was.

Swaying lovingly from side to side, you take the opportunity when Kenma looks away. With the most innocent of tones you could muster, you tilt your head upward, dragging your teeth gently against the lobe of his ear, and strike.

“Daaaaddy?”

When I tell you homeboys body freezes up, I mean that shit is like an iceberg that could cause Titanic 2.0

Kuroo whips his head round to face you, wide-eyed and eyebrow cocked as if to say ‘damn you really just went there?’ 

You smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes and feigning an innocence which you know drives him up the wall, a ‘try me bitch’ expression darting in your eyes.

He smirks at this, huffing under his breath so quietly it’s barely audible. 

“You’re so in for it later, kitten.”

You knew this, but it was more than worth seeing him suffer for the time being.

Kenma’s attention is now directed back to Kuroo after watching Lev get tangled in the volley net like a fly done dirty by the Darwin theory.

Commence stage 2.

They continue their conversation, all the while your hand is roaming stealthily under his shirt, trailing along every line, curve and crevice of his abs and pectoral region. 

Kuroo is whipped for the sensation of you feeling him up, he won’t ever admit to it but he caves under your touch.

You feel his posture stiffen as your hands hover above the region of his crotch.

Gotcha.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” Your voice is only loud enough for Kuroo to hear, and judging by the way Kenma looks at him next you can imagine his face is nothing short of priceless.

Pudding head senses something awry with Kuroo because my guy looks well and truly stumped.

“Uh, excuse us a sec.” 

Kuroo without warning flings your body over his shoulder and strolls toward the gyms entrance. You playfully whack his back with your fists and flail your legs, barking at him to let go. The whole team turns their attention to you and laughs.

“Get some (Y/N)! Lev hollers, and the last thing you see is Yaku slapping him up-side the head before the doors close.

Placing you back on your feet, he doesn’t give you a second to adjust before kabe-donning you against the building wall, the rain only further adding to the steamy atmosphere you had created.

Grabbing your wrist and guiding it to his shorts, your fingertips brush against the tent straining against the crimson fabric.

“See how hard you’ve made me princess? I can’t go ahead with the team meeting like this. Be a good slut for daddy and get on your knees, I’ll gladly make a mess of that pretty little face.”

You comply, shivering as the damp grass caresses the skin of your knees.

“You like calling me daddy, huh? That turn my little whore on?” Kuroo grunts, thrusting himself repeatedly into the back of your throat until his balls touch your chin. Tears well in your field of vision and start streaming down your cheeks which he wipes away tenderly. “Well, I’ll make sure you call me that more often.”

10 minutes and a very sore throat later, you both finish up and Kuroo looks more than satisfied, running his fingers through your disheveled hair and marvelling at the mess he made of your makeup.

“Clean yourself up in the restroom princess, I’ll see you back inside and we’ll continue this later. I’m far from done.”

With a sly smirk and a peck on the cheek, he walks back into the gym.

Needless to say he’s definitely going to make you call him daddy from now on, and you got many suggestive stares when you made your embarrassing debut back into the gym.

Kageyama:

Okay so the thought has probably never crossed Kags mind since his head is filled with like 98% volleyball.

The other 2% being the undying love he has for you. But hey, 2% is still 2%, I’ll take it.

Your sex life was although very satisfying, pretty vanilla. The only time it got really intense was if Kags had a bad day or was bubbling with jealousy, in which case a surprising and un-tamable dom side of him emerges. 

This often made you ponder what would happen if you addressed him under a title with said connotations. The curiosity of how he would react was slowly ebbing away at you.

So one day, being the scheming little shit you are, decided to test the waters.

The day had started off pretty well, it was a Saturday and you were taking a walk around town. 

Kags wanted to grab some snacks so you headed to the store, agreeing to wait outside. 

A few minutes go by and he still hasn’t come out, however the roaming eyes of a guy opposite left you feeling incredibly uneasy.

You shifted in place awkwardly, until he decides to approach you.

Up close he was sleazy, with a menacing glint in his eyes that made you recoil.

Resting his elbow on the wall beside you, he leans in way too close for comfort.

“Hi baby, you’re not with anyone are you? Mind giving me your number?”

His voice was low and threatening, as if daring you to decline his order than was snidely masked as an offer.

Mustering up all the courage you had, you raised your chin and stared up at him defiantly. “No, I have a boyfriend.” 

He chuckles at this, leaning in closer and challenging you further.

“Well, I don’t see him.”

“I’m right here.”

There Kags was, standing outside the entryway to the store, bearing the most livid expression you had ever seen. You’re pretty sure there were flames surrounding his aura.

The guy backs up, letting out a causal whistle before wordlessly turning in the other direction, leaving the two of you alone again at last.

“Tobio wha-”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fi-”

“We’re going home.” 

The walk was silent and you could sense the tension in the surrounding atmosphere.

After opening the door and tossing the bags to the side, Kags pins you against the front door and pulls you in for a fervid make out, intertwining your tongues and fighting for the dominance which he easily obtains.

He runs his hands ravenously over every inch of your upper body, making his way down south until he reaches your underwear, using one hand to grind his digits along your folds while the other fondles your breasts.

Suddenly, you have a lightning bolt moment and decide to put your thoughts to the test.

“Mhmm-..Daddy..”

What you just did flipped a switch on inside Kags he never knew existed.

He pauses for a moment, staring at you with wide eyes and heated cheeks, he actually looks choked up.

“w..what did you just say...?”

“...Daddy?”

At this point he straight up loses it.

Picking you up bridal style, he carries you to the bedroom and bends you over his knee, hastily unbuckling his belt and folding it into a make-shift whip.

“Count each time I spank you, and fucking thank me when you do it.”

Stunned, you nod feebly, still processing this side of him you have never seen before.

whack.

“A-h! One. thank you...”

“Thank you what?”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Kags traces the red mark decorating your ass lovingly with his finger before raising the belt again for a second blow. “You belong to me and only me, I’ll mark up your pretty body beautifully.”

You had belt marks on your rear for over a week and couldn’t walk right the following day lololol.

[isuspectyouhavefantheories]

Search for the Sun 🌞

So this is Part 2 of “the Sun” series.

Part 1 found : https://isuspectyouhavefantheories.tumblr.com/post/640838971892662272/the-crossroads-to-the-sun here!

Ok so, NSFW, I can’t figure out how to make this appear shorter or have it appear under the cut cus mobile Tumblr sucks eggs. You heard me.

Takemura/Female V fic

Rated MA, for mature, sexual themes, read at own risk.

—————————————-

Somewhere in the Mojave....

“We need a new carburettor for this thing V and someone’s gonna have to re-solder this whole board before we can even do that! We aren’t going to be getting our cargo vans very far like.” Saul sighed, closing the hood of the large van with a heavy thud as he wiped the grease and dust from his hands. His expression was his usual deeply worried frown and she noticed how even as he wiped his hands clean they remained oil stained and grubby. He’d been toiling over engines all day, putting one fire out after another.

“I’ll see what Mitch and I can do but it’s gonna take a little while. We’re already trying to get a handle on repairs to the solar panels and honestly that’s the thing I want to make sure we have fixed before night fall. We can stop for the night, recuperate.” She gave him a pointed look that he only waived off. “I’ll fix up the vans in the morning and we can get going after. We have some time before the next storm, quit your worrying.” V offered, punching his arm lightly, Saul only smiled in return.

“How’d you end up being my second in command? I thought that was supposed to be Panam?” He chuckled.

“She’s got her hands full at the moment.”

“With?”

“Dick.”

Saul balked at her and V only waggled her eyebrows, nodding her head in the direction of a lightly rocking AV on the outskirts of camp.

“Incidentally, his name is also Dick.” She chuckled.

“God damnit, PANAM!” She watched in mild amusement as Saul stormed away toward the aforementioned vehicle to reprimand his second for her blatant public fornication. So she heaved herself forward, ignoring the mild ache in her body and forcing her legs and arms to continue obeying her. V decided that she would save herself the mental anguish of tangling with the solar grid and get out of camp for an hour at the least. Evidently fighting burning migraines and muscle spasms was trying at the best of times, especially when attempting to keep up with her duties to the clan.

She didn’t want to sit around and be a burden on them, regardless of Saul and Panam’s insistence on her getting more rest. In truth, she loathed inactivity, too much time to start thinking, or worse, listening to Johnny, who was still holding out the hope she was going to turn the clan around and storm Mikoshi instead of this slow shicide she had carved out for herself instead. The twilight hours were the worst, because there was nothing she could do, hours she had spent staring at her tent roof, only to give up and lay under the stars, at least then she had something to occupy her. It had been especially hard the last few nights and she had more than once woken to Saul staring down at her with a worried look she would wave off and tell him that really, she was fine, dusting the sand from her and continuing on with her day at camp.

She admired the location for what it was, they had chosen a decent spot for the camp and they had some useful vantage points. Any Raffen trying to get the jump on them would be in for a surprise, they’d see their asses a mile wide.

She pulled Evelyn’s cigarette case from her utility belt pocket, igniting it with a match she then shook out to extinguish as she breathed a long drag.

“Fuuuck.” Johnny groaned appreciatively.

“You’re welcome.” She laughed as she gazed at the expanse of the desert. It’s wild beauty marred by burnt out car wrecks and pile upon pile of garbage. Her eyes landed on yet another old ruined petrol station. She couldn’t help but let her mind wander back to the week previous. Her night with Takemura had been everything to her. Laying there in his arms, basking in the beautiful aftermath listening to him breath as he slept, watching the steady rise and fall of his partially plated chest. She had wanted nothing more in the world than to just stay there in that abandoned truck stop, for the rest of their lives they could be there and she’d have been the happiest woman alive. But as she stared down at his sleeping face she knew she was living a pipe dream.

He was loyal to the bone to Arasaka. She would never be enough, she could never pry those chains from him. Even knowing what she had told him, about Hanako and Saburo, she imagined he had dusted himself off the next morning and returned to his master tail between his legs like the well trained guard dog they made him into. Why wait until morning to watch him fumble and ruin a perfectly good fuck, one for the history books, by seeing him slink back to the clutches of the Emperor’s family? Just to feel the raw sting of his departure, the rejection in his blind obedience to the people that saw him only as a pawn to be played. No. She decided to rip the proverbial band aid off. She was a quiet and stealthy thief, expertly manoeuvring around him in silence and then pushing her thorton far enough out of ear shot from him then just... driving away. She had to admit, it was shitty. To just leave him there without so much as a goodbye. But she knew if she had waited it would have been another day of trying to convince him to let her go.

Or he might have even managed to convince you to go back to Arasaka.

Johnny’s interjection to her train of thought startled her and she watched him materialise, cigarette in hand, perching with his legs dangling from a delapidated hoodoo rock a few yards in front of her.

“I wouldn’t have gone with him Johnny. I wasn’t going to just let them shred you into bits, fuck man, gotta give me more credit than that.” She was annoyed he could even insinuate such a thing, especially given where they now stood.

“You didn’t take your blockers during your little roll around with Mr Miyagi.” He groaned and her cheeks immediately flushed a deep crimson. “I know you were thinking it for a moment there in the... aftermath.” He sighed, looking down at her from his perch.

He took off his aviators and pursed his lips as if he was about to say something pivotal to the narrative but more than likely just as irritating as his previous comment so he decidedly closed his mouth, thinking better of it and returning his gaze to the endless desert plains. The fact that she could read him so well now was not lost on her.

“I wasn’t going to let them hurt you. Believe it or not you’re my friend, Johnny.” He glanced down at her again and a smile attempted to tug at the corner of his lips but he put his shades back on and coughed into his closed fist to cover it up.

“Well thanks. I guess. Doesn’t matter now anyway. We’re done for as is I suppose.” He breathed out a plume of holographic smoke that seemed to float off into the desert. “But you’re still thinking about him.” He deadpanned, making her sigh in irritation.

“Look.. it just kills me because... Goro was my friend too. And now he’s...” she smoothed her hair back from her face, letting her hand slide to the nape of her neck and head drooping down to look at her weathered and scuffed steel toe boots, her tool belt slung across her hips, held together by the tied sleeves of her blue net running jumpsuit she had to wear half down due to being in the beating sun while working all day. She could see her skin was already blistered with another light sunburn but also some sun freckles newly blooming. Her hands, more calloused and rough now than in her entire career as an amateur merc. She frowned. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I’m here now Johnny. I know that I shouldn’t keep living in the past but... let me at least mourn. Please?”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Here, just take some advice from a guy who’s had to... leave behind a few broken hearts in his day. Get drunk. Get fucked. Get angry. Get over it. Always worked for me anyhow.” She rolled her eyes at the rocker boy, letting her hand fall to her side, taking the last drag of her cigarette wasn’t even appealing to her so she quickly flicked it away.

“Aw.” Johnny grumbled. “The cherry is the best bit!” He whined but she ignored him. V made to turn back to the camp but some faint movement along the horizon caught her eye. She pulled out her binoculars and got as close as she could to the slightly glimmering and fast approaching object. Upon closer inspection she realised it was a car. And not just any car.

His car.

She froze, glued to the vehicle rapidly approaching the camp.

What the fuck does he think he’s doing?

-———

He admitted to a small amount of apprehension about this move to approach head on as he pulled up alongside the Basilisk, giving it a long stare and praying silently to whatever gods were out there watching over him that he had found the right Nomad camp this time. He had already had to blast his way out of two raffen pits as of yesterday and wasn’t thrilled about the possibility of having to do so again.

A tap on his car window brought him from his thoughts and he rolled it down.

“What brings you here, friend?” Mitch asked, Saul and Panam on the sidelines, iron at the ready.

“I apologise for the intrusion. I mean you no harm, I am simply attempting to locate someone. A friend.” He explained.

“Who’s your friend?” Saul called after him.

“Her name is V.” The Nomads grew quiet, looking between each other. “Perhaps she has passed by here? Stopped for supplies?”

“Excuse me?” Panam sputtered.

“V doesn’t have ties to Arasaka anymore. Suggest you move on.” Saul moved closer to the car window, pushing past Mitch.

He leaned his arm against the top of the car door frame, letting his revolver rest against it in a menacing if threatening show of dominance. This here was the Aldecaldos stomping ground. And he’d be dead in the ground before he let some corpo asshole get their hands on V. Takemura’s eyes hardened a moment on the large nomad, his hands righting on the wheel now as he internally scanned the area with what limited tech he still had to work with. She searched for her signature but either his implants were all now truly offline or she wasn’t here.

“I am not with Arasaka.” Takemura thought he would feel pain at uttering those words, but if anything, each word made him feel lighter.

“Yeah sure. Just covered in Arasaka cyberware, driving around on Arasaka wheels, wearing a full on uniform for their security detail. Totally.” Panam quipped.

Takemura sighed.

“Anymore.” He amended, but the trio still eyed him sceptically, he felt it best he stayed in the car for now.

“Is she here?” He questioned, quickly surveying the camp to try and find her himself, a small kernel of hope planting in his chest as he looked through the small crowd that had gathered by them, hopeful to catch a glimpse of her but Saul’s hand reached out for him roughly, pulling him up to the open window by the front of his shirt with a resounding clunk.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at here but if you think for a second I’m just gonna let you-.”

“Saul. Stop. It’s cool.” Takemura’s head whipped over Saul’s shoulder to the source of the voice. His heart clenched painfully upon seeing V finally.

She was a vision. Almost like a beautiful mirage that had been conjured up by the desert heat and his possible dehydration but upon closer inspection he knew it had to be her. Her every freckle and scar burned into his memory, he would know here anywhere, even caked in soot and sand.

“V, come on, we don’t even know if he’s got people tailing him. We’ve already got our hands full with Militech for Christ’s sake, let’s not go adding to that pile.” Saul glared down, unconvinced by Takemura’s own words.

“I wouldn’t be saying this if I thought he was a danger. He’s not. Please just let me talk to him.” Saul groaned but he made the mistake of meeting her gaze and knew there was no telling her no so he released Goro and opened the door to the car.

“Out. Follow her.” Saul grumbled, hand still leaning against the top of the door, but before Takemura could step out funny a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Try and pull any funny shit though and I’ll drop your ass myself. No hesitation.” Takemura hadn’t realised just how big Saul was before but did not let that deter him.

“I will be sure to keep it in mind.” Goro responded in an uninterested tone, not really registering him, only focusing on V, before quickly making his way to her side. He reached out for her but she had already turned away and was walking up to a trailer, ascending a small flight of stairs before reaching the screen door. She threw him a look over her shoulder and motioned with her head for him to follow.

—————-

Once inside the privacy of the trailer V rounded on him, her eyes filled with confusion and anger.

“What the fuck, Goro?” She hissed. “Why are you here?”

He swallowed thickly, never realising that even through all his fighting to get back to her side, he had never even put his reasoning into words. And he had always had a defined reason for everything he did, it was something he was fucking known for. But now, standing here he couldn’t even begin to rationalise any of his actions, only that being here now already felt more right than anything in his life ever had. He opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish. She noticed his silence but was quickly distracted by his haggard appearance. Her eyes widened however at the lack of the dim lights on his cybernetics.

She reached for him cautiously, her fingertips brushing against the red outer wiring of his throat that no longer glowed with the hum of electronics and now simply shined in the dim light, essentially now just useless plastic.

“Your implants...” she whispered, tracing her finger down the line of the metal overlay of his neck and to the edge of his jaw, Goro watching her every motion with laser focus. “Why are they..?”

“They were deactivated when I failed to return a few days ago.” he wanted to reach for her, to touch her, that’s all he’s thought about day and night since she left him. “I was starting to think I was going to die out there before I found you.” He chuckled softly yet he inwardly savoured how close she was, her scent, near unchanged since their night together. The scent was now infused with a small background of motor oil now that clingged to her hands but it was strangely fitting for her.

“Why?” She whispered angrily at him, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

He raised his own hand now to weave with hers, holding it to his heart as he stared down at her with so much sureness, so much care and devotion that she felt unworthy.

“I defected, V.” Her eyes widened at him but still she said nothing. “I am... I can’t go back. If you only have a short time left, then... there isn’t anywhere else I want to be. I want to be here with you, I don’t want to miss a second of you ever again. I-.” He closed his eyes, terrified to see her reaction but was nearly sent spinning as she thrust herself without warning at him, her arms suddenly wrapping around his shoulders. His own arms instinctively wrapped around her, returning the embrace yet part of him still feared the worst.

Did she pity him? Is that why she said nothing? Was this her letting him down gently? She was always too kind for her own good.

“Goro... oh my god.” She breathed against him and he tightened his grip around her burying his face in her neck, breathing her in deeply. Feelings of peace, serenity, a meaning in his life he had been searching for ever since he escaped the slaughter house of Chiba-11. He thought that meaning was to serve those who had uplifted him from that barbaric place. But they didn’t save him. They used him.

It was this tiny trembling powerhouse of a woman that barrel assed her way into his life and irrevocably entangled herself with him, she had been the one who reignited his purpose. Opened his eyes and never lied to him. She had never left him behind. Only when she thought he was truly beyond her reach did she finally resign herself to letting him go.

But now, in the security of her arms, he knew he was never going to let that happen again.

“I can’t believe I finally found you...” he breathed, letting the feeling of her arms around him be engraved deeply in his heart, the lines on his face began slowly relaxing as he stroked the dip of her back gently.

V finally looked up at him and he swiped away some stray tears from her slightly flushed cheeks with a curled finger before caressing them in his hand fully. He stared down at her with an adoration she had never imagined him capable of, it felt to her as though she had never been truly seen before now and could only grasp his outstretched arm and reach for the back of his head pulling his face closer to hers when he finally moved forward, reuniting her lips with his in a passionate kiss. Her fingertips grazed over his jaw lightly, drawing a sigh from him and letting it meld into the kiss as he tried desperately to hold her closer.

She pulled back from him but his lips trailed after hers again, loathed to be parted from her just yet, but she placed two fingers on his lips to halt his pursuit and worry shot through him again.

“I think we should explain to the clan before Saul comes in here and decks you.” She chuckled, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek sweetly and he leaned into her touch, the sudden panic receeding, before smiling back at her and nodding. She made to move to the door, hand already pulling the handle open when his own grasped her free one and interlaced their fingers, grinning like a cat down at her.

“So they don’t shoot me on sight.” He joked, V could only huff lightly but her own smirk betrayed her feigned annoyance.

“Hush. Be nice.” She snipped.

They stepped out of the trailer and at the bottom of the stairs to the trailer was the holy Aldecaldos trinity themselves. Panam looked between the two and their interlock hands with mild confusion first before realisation dawned on her and she mouthed ‘that’s him?’ rather more obviously than she thought she had but never the less winked at friend.

Goro looked down at her curiously but V just shook her head.

“She’ll tell you herself at some point.” V whispered, leaving him far more confounded than before.

“So? What’s this about?” Saul stood in front of them now arms crossed but glaring heatedly at Takemura.

“Drop the tough guy act Saul come on.” She shoved him playfully but Saul only scowled deeper. “He defected.” Saul’s eyebrows rose in surprise for a moment but suspicion reaffirmed itself at the forefront of his mind once more.

“Bullshit.” Saul spat.

“I left Arasaka because I no longer believe in them.” He looked down at V’s hand in his and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I believe in V. And she has put her trust in you and your clan. I wish to stay with her. You know that... she does not have long.” She squeezed him

back at this, hearing the slight waiver in his voice at that but he continued. “I will work, I will do whatever is needed of me in order to stay by her side.” He bowed his head politely and Saul was at a loss for words, casting his gaze back to Panam and Mitch but only receiving a tired sigh and a shrug from Mitch and a rather heated scowl from Panam that said ‘if you don’t let the ninja stay I’m going go get an emp and blast an AV out of the sky again’, and Saul could only sigh tiredly. He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm in a gesture of defeat but his eyes spoke an understanding and no inherent objection to the arrangement.

“Alright. You work, like the rest of us. We all pull our own weight here and there’s plenty to do.” Panam fist pumped in the air and squealed with glee, making V laugh at her antics but Saul gave her an exhausted look before grinning devilishly. “ Since there’s another mouth to feed and person to arm, we’re gonna need to do a recount on inventory. Thanks for offering to do it Panam.” Saul rounded on his heel, making for his own tent as the orange pink swash of dusk settled over the desert. Mitch followed after while Panam gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before departing to her new hell, inventory.

“Look at you guys, just the picturesque happy couple living on the edge of the law, running with nomads, being all in love and shit. Warms my cold dead pixilated heart.” Johnny drawled as he leaned up against the trailer.

V chose to ignore him but grinned Takemura wrapped his free arm around her and rested his head atop hers as he rubbed loving circles into the small of her back, she sighed into his chest and grinned like a fool. Nothing was going to bring her mood down. Not raffen, not Johnny, not the broken to shit solar panels.

She groaned suddenly at the memory of her ever growing list of chores left.

“V?” He questioned, straining his neck down to see her.

“Fucking solar grid.” She hissed ruefully into his shoulder before pulling away.

“I’ve got some solar panels to fix and a carburettor to solder before the day is over.” She groaned, but Takemura squeezed her reassuringly.

“Lead the way.” He chuckled.

“You want to help?” She asked incredulously.

He brushed his hand through her soft chocolate brown coloured locks, twirling the tail ends around her shoulders between his thumb and index. He had a feeling his new unconscious obsession was going to be her hair.

“I’m going to have to learn aren’t I?” He chuckled. “And I have a feeling I’m going to like being your student. Lead on, sensei.”

She giggled before pulling away from him, hands still interlaced as she tugged him towards the solar panels on the far side of camp.

—————

“Welcome to solar grid maintenance 101, class is in session.” She announced.

Goro sat on a rock beside the van, next to the start of the solar grid that went from the back of the van to the further reaches of the edge of their camp, with a small group of four guarding the grid perimeter at all times. He noticed a few of them giving him wary or curious looks but did his best to ignore them. He was sure in time he would seem less threatening but he knew he would only achieve this through time, example and not relying only on shows of good faith. He leaned forward, arms resting against his knees, watching as she peeled back a flexible plastic covering over the front of the panel, uncovering a plated and wired grid he assumed is what absorbed power from the Sun.

“Ok, so. You need a fully wired and calibrated solar panel, batteries, a charge controller and an inverter.” She gestured to each item in front of her. “Once you have these it’s just a matter of following instructions. Then you gotta figure out what your output is gonna be, simply calculate watt hours by using each of the electric tools and machinery’s power ratings, multiplied by the time in hours it will be running...” He continued to listen to her intently, taking mental notes as she went on and was pleasantly surprised by how much she knew. The woman was practically a walking, talking encyclopaedia for off grid living.

He imagined she had learned this with her original nomad clan.

“And... vóila!” The grid hummed to life, the electrical tickering and slight glow from the panels confirmed this. “And tomorrow you’re gonna help me dismantle, clean and stow them.” She slowly rose from her kneeling position but wobbled a bit, Takemura’s lightning fast reflexes kicked into action and he reached out to stabilise her. She gave him a sheepish yet thankful smile.

“Are you-?”

“Just light headed, I stood up to fast.” His levelled gaze cut through her, narrowed eyes studying her intently. “And we’ve been sitting in the sun for an hour. I’d say I could go for something to eat though. Haven’t had anything since last night come to think of it.” She pulled away, attempting to move away from the subject of her health as quickly as she could, but her hand stayed resting open palmed against his chest as she stared almost through him. She still couldn’t believe he was here. Standing next to her in the flesh. She couldn’t even really fathom eating right now but she knew she had to at least try to keep her strength up. But fucking damn. Of all the ways this day was going to go, this was certainly not one of them, not that she was complaining.

His finger captured her chin and tilted her gaze to his, pulling her from her thoughts as if he could sense her inner turmoil.

“What is the expression, ‘I am here for the...’ ah.” He looked up to think an moment as if the phrase was written in the sky before seemingly finding it among the clouds and looking back down at her, grinning from ear to ear. “‘I am... ‘In this for the long haul’, as you say.” She snorted a laugh at him letting her head fall foreword against him as he pulled her further into his embrace. “So stop looking at me as if I’m going to suddenly disappear.” Her fingers squeezed his in response and she looked up resting her chin on his shoulder now.

“Promise?” She whispered, making his chest rumble in laughter.

“Yakusoku.” He affirmed before kissing her forehead loving.

————————————

They had eaten their fill of some synth beef chilli at the camps mess tent and Goro wasn’t about to disclose how much he had actually enjoyed the hot meal. Wandering around in the desert for a week he had been living off of whatever least expired protein bars and soda cans he could find, which had been almost as awful as the scop burgers and noodles in night city, but at least they had been some way warm.

They had made their way to V’s tent which was set up next to her Thorton and some work benches and a trailer with two bikes standing in it. He recognise one to be her beloved Arch and the other a gold and silver heavy terrain 700cc bike with the clans name spray painted boldly along the side of it.

“Here we are. Home sweet home I guess. For now.” She sighed, flopping down into her large sleeping cot with a heavy plop. Takemura stood awkwardly for a moment before fastening the entrance flap closed. There was a fold up chair and two electric lamps illuminating the small space. He suddenly felt out of place but V was quick to pick up on his uncharacteristic fidgeting, giving him an inquisitive glance.

“Cot’s a bit small but we can manage for tonight. Or there’s another cot in storage we can go and-.” Takemura shook his head.

“We can manage.” He grinned sheepishly and she giggled at him, taking a seat on the edge of the cot, patting the spot next to her as an invitation to join her. He took two long strides and he was at her side once again, his hand snaking around her waist as he leaned his head gently on her shoulder. Leaning into him, V interlaced their free hands together, marvelling at how well they fit together.

“You must be exhausted.” She sighed, extending her hand to his face where she swiped away a errant few strands of silver hair that escaped his otherwise well kept topknot, her cool fingers a welcome sensation against his forehead.

“Not really.” He stifled a yawn and she looked up at him pointedly, his own gaze eluding her.

“Evidently.” She chuckled, but a sudden flash of inspiration hit her and she grinned up at him.

“What are you doing?” He asked warily as she began to slink herself around to kneel in front of him, her hands running up and down his thighs in a firm yet teasing trail.

“Well we do have a lot to do in the morning and you require a good nights sleep for what’s coming.” He eyed her suspiciously but couldn’t help the small grin threatening to tug at the corner of his lips. “Couldn’t possibly let you lie awake all night and screw yourself over tomorrow.” She ran her hand over the growing bulge at the apex of his legs, which he opened wider as she settled between them.

“V...” he breathed his head beginning to loll back and eyes flutter closed, his breath hitching she she unzipped him and pulled him of the confines of his suit pants, his member springing free, already fully hard. She gave him some light pumps, enclosing her fist around as much of him as she could. He wasn’t a monster in size, but impressive.

“Speaking of impressive cocks.” Johnny’s voice pierced her mind and she wanted to scream. “Can we leave mine out of this. Please, if yourself gonna fuck the corpo grandpa just take a fucking omega blocker so I don’t have to as well.” She shook her head and sighed, pulling away from Goro.

His eyes fluttered open.

“Is something wrong?” He breathed.

“Just gotta take something before I forget.” She smiled back at him reassuringly before popping two of the red pills.

She turned back to him and something about seeing him sitting there, disheveled clothes, cock standing to attention, lips parted and panting lightly in anticipation, sent a rush of some indescribable feeling through her system. He watched her hungrily but patient in his pining, she couldn’t help the heat between her own legs beginning to rise. She locked their gaze, lips still curved into her signature teasing grin and she began to pull off her tank top painfully slowly, dragging it up to her chest. He watched her relieve her body of the sweat and dirt stained cloth throwing it over her head and groaned lowly when he saw she wasn’t wearing anything underneath save for her tattooed flesh. Lotus flowers bloomed colourfully at her shoulders, and just between her pert little breasts. He traced them with his eyes and felt his body tense in suspense as she saunter toward him, a sultry sway in her hips saying she knew exactly what she was doing to him. She sank down to her knees again before him, her fingers wrapping around his still hard manhood making him hiss at the contact before a strangled gasp tore from his throat as she resumed pumping him again. He reached out his hand to touch her but she slapped him away lightly.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She wagged her finger tauntingly at him, then running them down his chest back down to curl back around his member, giving him a tug that made him groan once more. “Look. Don’t touch.” She then began to lower her lips to him, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as she encased him in her warm pink lips, her devilish tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cock. He moaned louder as she moved against him but forced his hand over his mouth to stifle himself. They weren’t alone out here so he had to remember to control his vocalisations but she was not making it easy.

He leaned back further down on his elbows watching her intently through hooded eyes as she devoured him, her mouth sinking down slowly, taking him all the way to the hilt letting him hit the back of her throat with an audible gag that made him whine in need then gliding back up, dragging her lips back to the tip, letting her tongue swirl around him a few times before swallowing him once again. He struggled against his urge to fist his hands into her hair as she kept up her ministrations, fearing she’d stop what she was doing, because what she was doing was so fucking good he thought he was going to die if she didn’t finish.

“V... please I’m going to....” he gasped, one hand stretched out behind him as he bit the knuckle of his other hand to surpress his cries.

He felt her chuckle against him, his end so close he could practically taste it as she continued to bob energetically against him. A few more pumps and he had to bite his knuckle so hard he drew blood so as not to roar from the force of his climax, blowing his load in her mouth which she swallowed it readily. He swore he saw stars for a moment, a blinding light show all of his own as he rode the high for as long as he could until he fell back against the cot, attempting to catch his breath as V released him from her mouth with a faint pop.

She pulled herself up and crawled over him, resting her chin against his chest that now rose and fell erratically from his ragged breathing, waiting there patiently for it to even. He lifted his head to look at her, small beads of sweat clinging to his forehead but a stupidly pleased grin now plastered his face as he lifted a hand to caress her cheek and stroked her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb tenderly. He held her there for a moment, unsure if it was the aftermath of his climax or the low lighting of the tent, but to him, right now in all her dishevelment, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. He dragged her up to him, lips meeting hers at last, tasting her felt like home, regardless of the lingering taste of himself on her lips. Goro pulled her closer to deepen the kiss before pulling away to gaze at her agin. She was the one panting now, her full pink lips, that had only a few moments been driving him to near insanity were parting enough for him so see her devilishly nimble tongue and the flush dusting her cheeks was starting to do things he didn’t know could be done, his member already twitching to life again, slowly but surely.

“You feeling more relaxed then?” Her laugh, like a tinkling bell, brought his attention back into the room and he could only smirk down at her slyly.

“Partially.” He lifted himself up fully wrapping his arms around her then flipping them so she was trapped underneath him. “But I’m afraid I’m more awake now than I was before.” He whispered, lowering his lips to suckled at her collarbone where he began to trail a searing line of bites and kisses down her chest, stopping to tease her nipples as he lavished them thoroughly, leaving her shivering and gasping uncontrollably beneath him. “The opposite of the desired effect I think.” He chuckled lowly, lifting his hand to her mouth and clamping firmly over it to quieten her mewls while he began to drag the fingers of his other hand up to the bottom half of her netrunner jumpsuit. Untying the sleeves he pulled the zipper further down to the end. It reached just above her mound, a few more inches on the zip and he’d have been able to access her. Shame, he though but immediately tugged the skintight nano plastic material down over her hips, her purple thong coming with it. He didn’t pull it all the way down, allowing the material to bunch at her knees before pulling back, letting both her legs stretch up to rest against his shoulder as he stared down at her, a shit eating grin breaking over his lips as he soaked in the sight of her, trapped in his web. She huffed at him in mild displeasure at the loss of control but her eyes widened when she felt his fingers trace her slit softly. His arm curled around her legs, anchoring them against him as he continued to tease her.

“What are you-?” He silenced her with two fingers plunging inside her, making her arch her back as she barely managed to stifle a moan. He thrust his fingers into her wetness again and again, all while his gaze fixed on her face, contorted by pleasure as he took delight in her every twitch and convulsion.

He let another finger enter her, curling them, tickling a sensitive collection of nerves inside her. Her juices dripped down his hand, his attention switching down to where his fingers pumped relentlessly and he felt himself moan at the sight of her absolutely soaking his hand. He felt his cock strain against her thigh but he ignored his growing need. He had work to do. She nearly cried out when he stopped, her eyes finally fluttered open to see him gazing down at her, smirking triumphantly above her.

“Hey.” She pouted, wiggling against him only making him chuckle quietly.

He pulled her legs free finally, tossing the jumpsuit to the far corner of the tent but trailing his hands from the underside of her thighs, to the under side of her ankles, yanking up sharply which pulled her further down the cot so her ass now rested on his lap. Her ground himself against her, his free member brushing against her slit as he draped each of her legs against either shoulder. He leaned foreword her legs stretching to rest nearly by her ears with how flexible she was. Without warning he entered her, both of them gasping quietly. He filled her so completely, V let the feeling wash over her until he began moving at an achingly slow pace. He found purchase at the head of the cot, using it to drive himself harder and harder into her. Reaching up she caressed his head in her hands, his eyes closing at the contact, savouring it, then opening again to see her.

His breath hitched in his throat, not just at the majesty of her wild curls fanned out and framing her so perfectly. Not at her being stretched and splayed out for him, like a cover pin up they used to sneak into the army barracks, back when he did foolish brazen things like that, no. The trust in her eyes. She was letting him take control, letting him take her, however he wanted. She wasn’t scanning the room for the nearest viable exit like she did in every room or so far away in her mind he wondered if she could even hear him above the noise of the engram erasing her. She was right here, willing and ready for him. He wasn’t going to last long, not after already climaxing earlier but he refused to leave her hanging, letting his thumb roll her clit firmly, over and over. He leaned forward to swallow her cries as she came undone beneath him, his own release coming not to far behind her.

He leaned back, letting her legs down on either side of his hips, but stayed connect with her. He leaned back into her, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose then her lips, making her smile sleepily against him.

“You’re still in your clothes.” She taunted against his shoulder as he chuckled.

“It’s hard to think about anything clearly with you around.” He mumbled against her neck.

“Hey, don’t you dare fall asleep on me dickhead.” She snorted, poking him enough to make him groan then move to the side, allowing her to stand up from the cot. She walked over to a duffel bag where she pulled a loose white shirt from and threw it on. The fabric reached her knees and he scoffed at how small she was.

“Oi, no sand in my bed, get those dusters off.” She ordered and he sighed, pulling himself from his bliss to shed his coat and other garments leaving him only in his boxers. He fell back into the cot heavily, rubbing his eyes as a yawn escaped his lips. She rejoined him, crawling and moulding herself into his side while his arms immediately snaked around her as he buried her face into the crook of her neck, V stroking his hair soothingly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he went to sleep without knowing where he was going to be tomorrow and not caring in the slightest.

[bisluthq]

I became a kaylor in 2015.I was aware of Swiftgron and I was a huge Taylor Swift fan.I didn’t have tumblr back then but it was kind of exciting to see kaylor unfold in real time. I took a break in 2016 and found myself back in the fandom when Karlie got engaged. I didn’t know many kaylors so I followed ttb who was the major kaylor blog and everyone seemed to trust her. It took me some time because I was young and naive but I finally realised that she enjoyed having so much power over a vulnerable community,a community she wasn’t even a part of. She always bragged about how she got inside sources and then after karlie’s wedding she posted about how she received a message from spade (i think it was a poem from Atticus).Anyway, I didn’t know better so I believed her. I feel so embarrassed that I ever followed her and believed her lies. I think she was so desperate for attention and power that she made up sources so people would believe her. I even sent her an anon pretending that I worked in entertainment and provided her with fake intel and she posted it. TTB or spade-riddles as she likes to call herself now reminds me of Trump in many ways and I doubt the kaylor fandom or whatever is left of it will understand how much damage she has caused. My advice to all the kaylor newbies : sometimes there’s no big conspiracy theory,there are no hints or klues. Don’t waste your time making up theories about Taylor being the baby’s mother or following blogs that claim to have their own “sources” and get angry when you doubt them or call them out.

❤️❤️

She has done such legitimate damage to so many people and it’s wild that she still doesn’t fucking understand it even though people have explained it to her. And like I’ve tried explaining too. She just won’t fucking listen. Like she’s shouting about her impact and her fans but her impact was literally bad. It was a net negative impact. She took what was essentially a harmless gossipy rumor and spun it into a conspiracy complete with raging antisemitism. And she gave a lot of young queer people actual issues because she was talking out her ass most of the time.

Like again I think it’s important to reiterate that it’s not and never has been silly to believe in a Romantic Kaylor. They were suspiciously close for a pretty short time in all and there were ongoing rumors about them in real time. I don’t think looking at that - especially given Taylor has had rumors basically since debut - and going “oh, dem ladies are fucking” was stupid at all. And from the vantage point of the present it does feel very strongly like she showed up in Taylor’s music so yeah I mean maybe they fucked. I wrote a thesis to prove that possibility lol.

Kaylor fandom got bad at the point where it detached from reality and also where it became hateful. But I also don’t think it’s fair to call anyone who believed stupid or naive. Gullible maybe lol but like a lot of people were young queer humans and finding comfort in this and that’s again where the damage is so palpable and why she makes me want to stream mad woman on repeat.

I don’t think anyone should feel bad or feel shame for believing this for a time (or for a long time). It brought comfort and community and a high of being “right” as we discussed. But it was built on lies.

[coinofstone]

5x01 Arthur's Bane pt 1

The problem with doing a rewatch like this is now I'm watching this opening shot of Merlin running up an empty staircase and throughout an empty castle, and I'm remembering Merlin's first scene in 4x01, where he's running up a crowded staircase and throughout a bustling castle, where he repeatedly bumps into friends and everyone's in good spirits, and I'm thinking of the utterly tragic mirror imagery of that sequence given the ending of S5. 😕

Three years on, Arthur's got a big ol' round table, Gwen's got some big ol' hair, and Morgana is still a big ol' mess.

The Onion Knight looks like he walked right off the set of GoT and onto Merlin. He's literally dressed like a night's watch man.

Gaius looks like a hippie botanist with that hair

"If it was you that disappeared, Merlin, I wouldn't bother." Bitch, please. If Merlin disappeared you wouldn't wait six fucking weeks to go get him yourself.

Ahhhh, yes gratuitous topless shots of muscley men using their many muscles. Johnny Capps and Julian Murphy knew good and damn well what they were doing m in this show.

I got so engrossed in the show I forgot to take notes.

Merlin following the creepy telepathy voice into a dark cave by himself is very on brand.

Calling the dragon for a midnight chat without any of the knights noticing is ALSO very on-brand. I don't think the dragon looks as good this year as he did last year.

Colín was actually juggling in that scene right? Is this movie magic or is our boy really just wildly talented in addition to being stupidly handsome?

This domestic scene hits so much differently after seeing the deleted scene from 4x02. All I could think of is 'the last time Merlin was staring pensively into a fire while they were en route to a dangerous castle, Arthur pretty much medieval gay married him'.

This young woman really lets Gwen think she's going to meet up with a lover but she's really meeting her father who is in league with Morgana. And all Gwen wants is a damn friend. Her dress looks a lot like Gwen's from last season too.

Annis is pretty cool. I'm glad they brought her character beck.

Morgana's been in this castle for three months and she couldn't magic the cobwebs off the lamps next to her throne

I'm sure I should be comparing that little scene between Merlin and Arthur with similar scenes from previous episodes but my brain is just this image

FIGHT MUSIC

Ooof the way Bradley went down looked like he twisted his knee 😬

Uhhh if this cave is so hot they're sweaty and shirtless, whyyy exactly is their breath visible?

Colin's voice when he's calling Arthur an ass is ridiculously sexy. Like whyyyyyyyyyy is that hot? That shouldn't be hot.

Oh hey it's taken me watching this scene 4 times to figure out that the two of them going to sleep back to back is like symbolic of their individual journeys, with Arthur facing his brick wall and Merlin wanting to drag him away, in the opposite direction. I am a Critical Viewer™️.

The net gag is soooooo stupid and also my favorite part of the episode

I've been critical of Gwen's costume change for S4 and I'm still critical in S5 buuuuuuuut that red dress is absolute 🔥

Elyan looking at his sister like 'wtf' when she sentenced that girl to death was really nice.

Oh right this was the introduction of grown up Mordred. Hard to remember these things. I feel like Alex was a good casting choice for an aged up Asa, and honestly their own ages correlate remarkably well - Alex is 11 years older than Asa and S5 should be taking place approximately ten years after S1. He does look a bit older than he should be, but honestly Asa just looks really young in S1, and you don't really want someone too baby faced in this role, you want someone somewhat threatening, other wise it's like Arthur gets done in by a child - and considering he's a great warrior that just wouldn't work. I think what makes him look just slightly older than you'd like, is actually that he's only 5 years younger Bradley, who also looks younger than his years.

Posting this separately bc 5x02 has commentary and also I don't quite have time for it right now and I do not trust tumblr with drafts 🙃

[theunholygrails]

Very Differently

Summary: This isn’t really new, just something I never got around to posting here. Basically my take on Budapest with an OC added to the mix for fun. 

Masterlist

Zdravstvuyte

The shadows cast from the wastefully clad guests in the soft angles and indecipherable masses were notably more elegant than the calculating frowns of their creators. A gloved hand traced along a freshly polished curling oak banister as Sonja made her was to join the babbling benefactors. Leaflets of conversations rustled not long enough to take root but simply flew past on the careful air of disinterest her fellow hosts held about them. With a sharp nod of her head and a demure curve of her lips, she joined the nearest transaction.

Arms dealing can be tricky business when neither party particularly trusted the other.

Jewels painted the necklines of her most generous buyer and in their pristine surfaces, she could make out the warning flash of the smallest red dot. Sonja shifted with a subtle flip of her hair to block the shot and simultaneously tapped her earpiece.

“Ma’am, I do believe my husband is coming down with something fatal.” she said.

Even if she did not have a husband to speak of, the message was abundantly clear—the event was compromised because Black Widow herself was present.

“Take care of it, Chief. I need this night to be spotless.”

“Got it.”

Security hustled onto the floor at Sonja’s signal to escort each of the dozen or so guests back to their armored vehicles.

With the prompting of her boss in her ear, Sonja slipped out the back door to attempt to uncover any tracks the Widow might have left behind.

The wet asphalt did little to help her heels find traction as she scanned the nearest buildings for the optimal vantage point the spy must have taken to train a snipper on people under her protection. With the rest of her security team busy locking down the premises, she was left to the goose chase even though looking for tracks from this particular prey was about as promising as searching for footprints after a storm.

She tensed when something popped right beside her ear and the sharp slap of metal hit her cheek. She scolded her hammering heart and forced a calm gaze to the arrow that kissed her skin and was now imbedded in the wall. Her hand went to the dual blades tucked against her thighs knowing full well that any assassin after her would not be foolish enough to miss twice.

A test of her ear piece told her its signal had been knocked out somehow. A heavy pair of boots splashed down beside her and she whipped into a defensive pose before the archer could cut her mission short.

The man kneeling across from her had his bow pressed to the ground and his black stealth suit clinging to him like any woman in her proper mind would in a scenario a little less lethal than this. Given a situation where she were allowed to use her real name and wash the blonde dye from her hair, she might have done just that because his looks were wasted on the dark, filthy streets of Samara, Russia.

“Hello, easy, Chief. I’m not here for you. Sonic took out your communications, also I was listening in a little bit, Ma’am is a weird name. Is that like the birth one or did she rename herself that? I’m looking for the Widow. You know anything?”

“Does anyone?” she flicked her blades so they would glint in warning beneath the lazy stars.

“They sent one person out to challenge her? Seems a little under kill. Unless you’re just the bait.”

She advanced a step to show just how much of a danger she truly was. His mouth curved up in amusement when he rose from his crouch. “You’re not going to let me leave,” he said.

“I fear my boss will want to speak with anyone chasing her.”

“Knew better,” he sighed. “Alright, let’s do this before I have to check out of my hotel.”

Her first swipe cut only into nothing as he swiveled around to her back. She feigned left, sweeping her right foot back to catch his ankles.

“Woah, who taught you that?” he demanded, dancing over the attack.

While she paused to process his stunned remark his completely unstunned body cracked his bow against her forehead. She grabbed at his forearm, twisting until it clattered free of his grip. “Quiet, American.”

“Was it Hill?” he carried on. “You with S.H.I.E.L.D?”

Now she faltered and he did not take the opportunity to jam any of his color coordinated arrows into her temple.

“I wasn’t told of another operative here,” he babbled.

She slammed her shoulder into his chest and landed him flat on his ass where she could properly threaten him.

“I’m handling it.”

“This is about as under control as a mouse wrestling a snake.”

“You realize I’m pinning you right,” she demanded, dropping her knees to either side of his hips and pressing the flats of her blades against either of his wrists.

“That means nothing. I’m letting you. Just so you know, they asked me to do your job first. Also, the first and last fight I had with the Widow ended with my jaw dislocated. That was back when I cornered her in Milan. That makes me a mouse too.”

“Sadly, I think that just makes more dinner for the snake instead of an overwhelming force.”

He shrugged his eyebrows and glanced down pointedly. With a sigh she crawled to sit beside him as he grunted and rolled onto his stomach. Hands propped under his head as princess worthy blue eyes fluttered up at her. “Feel better? I think you missed bruising one of my ribs if you wanted a clean sweep.”

“I was going to ask why Fury didn’t tell me you were coming, but pretending you don’t exist does seem to be the only way to deal with your bullshit.”

“Supposed to be super top fucking secret but since you kind of outed me, not cool by the way, want to work together to charm a snake?”

“Is she a spider or a snake, man? Make up your damn mind.”

He rocked back, clutching his knees as a laugh barreled through him. “Oh, I like you. You don’t get a say now. We’re working together. Got something more stealthy than that yellow dress?”

***

She did not give one rat’s ass how he got into her apartment only that he could have possibly blown her cover.

“Brought flowers. Told the doorman I wanted to surprise you.”

“Was the surprise that I had a boyfriend?” she deadpanned as she shrugged off her bulky overcoat.

“Fiancé, when he asks but that’s not why I’m here. I need your help bringing her in. She vanished, shook all my tracking abilities. From what I hear, you’re pretty handy with the underworld system.”

“If you hear anything then I’m doing my job wrong. Why would you want her brought in anyway? Isn’t protocol to take out someone that rouge and dangerous?”  

He gave his knees a firm pat before pushing off them to match their heights. “I think she could prove an asset. I made this call. If it goes south, it’s on me. I know I’m asking you to compromise yourself but from what I can tell, the Widow is more involved in mafia’s inner working than the little crew you head. We find her, we get you your hot target too.”

“Ma’am is a pretty cold-hearted bitch from ghost chatter I’ve picked up.”

A tug of his grey hoodie secured it around his face for a safety net just in case anyone was spying in from the dirt smeared window to their right. Sonja was afforded no such luxury because her face was always bared to the world. She was buried way too deep in her world of shit to risk disguises. “Funny. We should work well together.”

“What’s your clearance?” She demanded.

The space of her apartment was deemed worthy of her retailer to host grand parties of up to a dozen people but she already felt stuffy with his confident presence entirely too close to her though he remained clear across the green wallpapered room with his feet twisting into her recently purchased, hand woven rug. It was probably worth three times his ratty boots with its intricate depiction of a fanfare of angels descending the heavens; this man was no angel.

“Alpha.”

“That doesn’t exist. Ten is the highest. I would know, I was the reason they created it.”

A tilt of his head told her he was only amused with her declaration and not in awe like all other inferiors she came across. “Welcome to Alpha then. I’ll fill you in on the plane.”

“I thought you didn’t know where she was.”

“I said she shook me. That doesn’t mean I don’t know her well enough to predict where she would go. Pack light, Budapest can be unforgiving this time of year.”

“Got a name?”

“Got a code, Hawkeye. Yours?”

“Zero.”

***

Being nearly run over three time while crossing a single street was a personal record for Sonja. Hawkeye was weighed down beneath a tan backpack filled with waters, old and clunky laptops, maps, granola bars (as if she could live off of those along), and a very distinct lack of weapons. Hawkeye had insisted on leaving them behind because airport security did not make exceptions for undercover agents and using a private jet would raise too many eyebrows. He had extracted her daggers from her and then held his hand out expectantly for the spares he could not have known she kept tucked neatly between her planner and wallet in her purse. She felt slightly less naked when he tossed his bow as well but still would rather not relying on their combined wit and charm since her partner appeared to be painfully lacking in both and making up for it with 100 proof sarcasm.

The wind buckled with the weight of the dry air it carried and tugged at the ends of Sonja’s hastily dyed and chopped off brunette locks. A sunhat kept the loose waves mashed against her face and even bigger sunglasses kept the prying sun at bay along with Hawkeye’s dancing glances back to make sure she was keeping up with his soundless steps.

“Come on,” he called even though the only closer she could have been to him would be to just piggyback it.

“Where is the safe house again?” she called over the roar of traffic.

He pause while a couple bustled between them, their heads bent in deep conversation then nodded politely to a minister though she doubted his devilish grin could even point out a church. “Next block. You wanna take over bag duty? I’ve got this crick in my neck I haven’t been able to shake since the plane.”

“That’s because you were stupid enough to sleep on the plane. On my shoulder no less. There’s a drool stain.”

The bag was tossed at her chest where her hands caught it without the aid of her gaze leaving his. “If your posture was more slumped we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Excuse me for remaining vigilant.”

“Trust me, your people don’t know you’re missing yet. You’ve probably got until noon.” His eyes skipped between his blank wrist and the sun overhead to judge the time. “And once we get set up with internet, I will clear the airways of anything we might have left behind. Say, do you think you could give me some sort of reaction? The constant dead expression is a bit intimidating.”

“I can see why the Widow dislocated your jaw, you talk too much.”

She spotted the covert insignia for S.H.I.E.L.D. and pushed past him to key in the day’s number sequence for entrance. There was distinct absence of air conditioning when they entered the stale room sitting on the basement level of what appeared to be the back of a tourist ice cream shop. Hawkeye’s bulky jacket hit the floor then his paisley shirt was tossed over the back of a chair that used to be sand colored but appeared to have been recently stained with globs of red. His back hit the ground as he fiddled with the window unit and Sonja set to toeing along the perimeter of their quarters.

She came across the outlet first sitting adjacent to the Ethernet cable in the far right corner. After depositing the backpack for him to fiddle with later on, she peeled off her overcoat and tank top while she stuck her head into the bathroom to check on the water situation. What trickled from the sink was lukewarm at coldest and the pressure in the shower was laughable but at least the toilet flushed and air freshener hung from the doorknob. Its orange tree shape was swinging in the next moment as blessed air filled the cramped space.

Sonja emerged from the bathroom with her sports bra held away from her damp skin. “Guess you are useful.”

“Do me a favor and check the freezer.” He toed off his boots as he walked, adding more of his shit to the mess that made her fingers twitch to clean only slightly.

“Think they left us frozen dinners? Because you’re health nut bars are not going to cut it Hawk.”

“I’ll order pizza for us,” he called with a wink as he tapped away on the booting up monster of a laptop.

She grumbled her response and pried open the rusted closed freezer doors that concealed an inside that somehow felt hotter than the oven of a city. Two metal cases rested inside, one smaller and snugly sitting atop

“You know how to defuse bombs right?” she called, eyes tracing the otherwise empty white cubicle for any wire or trigger.

“That’s a no. They’re presents from Fury.”

She did not move to take his word for it but instead carefully shifted the boxes sideways while sliding her hand where they sat in case it was weight sensitive. When she felt only the sleek, flat bottom, she cautiously picked up the bottom box from either edge with just the tips of her fingers and walked it as far away from Hawkeye as she could manage.

“For Christ’s sake, Z. I special requested those. Look, the code is 1971 on the bigger one and all zeroes on the other because I’m brilliant. If those don’t work then you can pull out your bomb squad suit.” He strode over, task forgotten, and squatted beside her kneeling form. “I’m not sure whether I’m offended you don’t trust me or flattered you’re trying to keep my out of harm's way.”

She flinched when he keyed in the numbers and passed her the first case carelessly before punching in his own and flipping the lid up to reveal and brand-spanking-new carbon fiber and purple streaked bow.

“Stealthy.” Sonja pulled out her own sleek new dagger set. Four blades so sharp just the skimming of her fingers drew their first blood. “Gorgeous.”

“I’m going to assume both of those were for me. Look, since I slept earlier, you take this round and I’ll wake you when night says it's time to move.”

When she made no move to do as such, he groaned and jutted out his hand. “Clint,” he said.

“What,” she snapped.

“That’s my name. Clint Barton. 1971 is the year I was born.”

“Is this supposed to make me trust you?”

“What? You want my social security number? Passport? Birth certificate? To be honest, I have so many of those I probably couldn’t pinpoint the original for you.”

She glanced down to hide the smiled curving up her lips and tucked a single dagger into her calf high sock. After refolding the hem of her khaki shorts, she felt composed enough to meet his impatient blue eyes. His smile was quick and brilliant and caught her so off guard she returned it, still vulnerable from the previous moments.

“There she is. Listen miss bomb technician, that why they call you zero? Because of the countdown? Anyway, if you don’t sleep you risk both our asses tonight and I happen to have a fine ass. As a gentleman I have not checked yours out but I am willing to bet that it’s at least half as good as mine.”

“If I go to sleep will you shut up?”

He touched his scarred knuckles against her cheek and lugged his new toys over to the ancient ones where he set up shop for the next few hours. The flimsy mattress with springs poking out every few inches was tucked away between the window and the front door and Sonja barely got her coat down on it before her head crashed against her arm for her pillow and her eyes tapped out.

***

do svidaniya

Clint’s version of a gentle awakening was a kick to her foot as he passed by. Of course, her leg swept out in defense and he landed face first on the mattress beside her. Her groggy eyes blinked open at him and promptly scowled at the dumbfounded expressions holding even his usual smart ass comment at bay.

“We better be under attack,” she grumbled, failing when she attempted to remove her already asleep arm from beneath his heavy torso.

It took him an alarming number of seconds to compose an answer and she squinted through sleep crust to glare at him. His lips parted then apparently he discovered them too dry to speak because his tongue swept out and at this proximity, so close she would not even have to reach to strangle him, the smell of his lingering bubblegum toothpaste pulled her fully into reality.

The same abrupt force that stilled him froze her from shoving him off the bed. She blamed the dreams still singing to her but the more likely cause was his hand which had by the damnation of some god landed on the dip of her waist, not her ass or her breast, which would be far simpler to explain the skip in her chest.

His recovery was like watching a runner recover from a particularly nasty hurdle “Afraid your mafia is running a little behind schedule, so we have to go out and meet them. Gear up.”

He grunted when her knee sent him rolling to the floor next.

“What time is it, Hawk?”

“2100. Think you bruised my bladder.”

Her change of clothes were swept up and the bathroom door slammed between them and the meager form of water she coaxed from the sink drowned out the breath she heaved from her lungs. The woman staring back at her was faded and spotted where the mirror was tarnished from the years without maintenance.

There was scarcely enough time to worry about saving her own skin let alone playing guess that hormone with an archer she met two days ago. A quick coaching session of her emotions and the addition of a black beanie, matching under armor shirt, and a lightweight bullet proof vest she emerged, undoing the button to her shorts after regretfully noticing the absence of the last bit of her uniform.

Clint lounged in front of the air unit in identical gear, hands folded across his pulled in knees so that the muscles fought against the fabric of his shirt. “Didn’t know pants were optional,” he called as she neatly folded her shorts beside their supply bag and produced the cargo pants that would be hiding her weapons for the evening. “I did appreciate that silky number you wore for me on our first mission,” he continued.

A belt secured the bottoms and after shoving her feet into the boots she stomped one down dangerously close to his most vulnerable bits and offered a sweet smile down at him.

“Think the world has one too many eunuchs as it is. Next time you want me to tie your laces try a nice ‘Clinton, would you be a dear and tie my fucking shoes?’”

“Don’t I feel like Cinderella?”

Deft fingers made quick work of her laces and she was still admiring the knots she could not even begin worrying about how to undo when he stood and shouldered his bow.

“Let’s go catch a spider, Z.”

“Let’s take down the Samarian crew as well while we’re at it.”

The night was their friend, lending its heaviest cloud cover from the stars that dared shine from the moonless sky as they jogged through the still bustling city’s alleys.

They passed a meat truck making a last minute delivery and Clint offered the driver the nod of his head before prodding Sonja’s body to pick up the speed as if they were out for a jog instead of on the tracks of the most dangerous woman on any side of the world. She shifted out of his reach, none too content on having her mind replay its earlier clash with emotions for the rest of the mission.

The building where Clint’s found surveillance footage last picked up her image was tucked between the river and the last wall of structures. A fishing shack where Sonja doubted the lights from the horn riddled bridge now stretching over their heads could penetrate if a paid professional like herself were taking shelter there.

Rounding the last bend on the downward slanting street, Clint caught her belt loop and pulled her against the crumbling brick building that smelled like moss and moldy bread. She bent her knees to keep from slipping down the slope on the loose cobblestones beneath their feet and still managed to subtly maneuver further from him because his aftershave was making repeating the plan like a mantra in her head a thing for the birds.

“Hey, you with me, Zero? You remember what we talked about?”

“Not dying or the not fucking up part?”

“See, I knew you weren’t listening to me.”

“Relax, Hawk. I’ve been doing this since I was toddling.”

“Really? Diapers for me.”

She swatted his arm when his blue eyes danced with humor and closed her own to reel herself back in.

“Seriously, though, you up for this? Because I can go in alone…”

“Like, hell, Hawk. You’re long range, I distract. Stick to it.”

He held out his knuckles wrapped in fingerless gloves that would help his aim. With a laugh disguised as a groan, she knocked hers against his and watched as he began scaling the fire escape to the tops of the connected houses leading to the perfect vantage point.

It took the coaxing of the restless waves to remind her that she too did not have the fortune of sitting still and allowing her already spiraling life to make Budapest its final resting place.

The traps took precious time to pick out--a motion detector from the front porch, a snoring dog with paws running in the air when she slipped around to the side, an electrical ward along the single sealed window, and finally a good old fashioned set of cans on the roof she managed to climb on. Sonja crouched on the narrow ledge of the none-too-secure roofing tiles, still off balance from her misjudged landing.

The cans, a mix of unopened green peas for which Sonja could not blame her and chili whose lids appeared to have been ripped off by bare hands, were stacks to at least twice her height and made a perfect circle around what she had to assume was another vulnerable entrance. From her original distance of spotting from the bridge with Clint, it had appeared merely another level of the shack which she could scale but now was proving to be just a pain in her ass. She circled on feet quieter than death to the side where Clint could see her and held out her hands helplessly.

“No in?” He said over the ear piece.

A shake of her head was the answer she knew his strapped on night goggles could pick up.

“Alright, hold on.”

“Clint!” she hissed out as an idea struck.

“Hell of a time to break out the Christian name.”

“Knock out the electricity on window.”

“I know you remember how these sonic arrows work. Our communication will be cut off and I know you’ll miss this sweet watchful voice, Z.”

“Sonja,” she whispered, hunching down on her knees and throwing a finger down as if he did not know the window she intended.

“No, sonic.”

“That’s my name you moron. You’ve got to trust me. Just shoot it.”

There was that hesitation from him again, she was beginning to understand how his head worked. The job was simple, something he was trained beyond reason for, but she was a variable he had to carefully calculate into the equation.

“Alright. I’m right behind you.”

“I know. Just don’t miss.”

She heard the smile in his response, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

“Are we really resorting to quoting Star Wars right now?”

“Fire in the hole, Sonja.”

The arrow struck home with a muted thwack and Sonja slid down onto the windowsill throwing a thumbs up into the now unresponsive night as she jimmied her dagger around to unlock the window. A second blade joined her free hand when she ducked inside.

The first thing she noticed was the complete lack of interior decoration just like their own safe house and the second unfortunately was that the insides were also void of any inhabitants. Why so much security without anything to protect?

There was a knock at the front door and a moment later Sonja remembered the power surge would also have affected the motion detector. She wearily trudged over before sliding into a defensive position when she flung the door back.

She saw the Black Widow first and her arrogant smirk followed by the prompting of an arrow to her skull.

“Plan B then?” Sonja called as Clint jostled their target into the room.

“I thought we agreed this was the more likely alternative,” he said. “Making it plan A.”

Sonja shrugged and pulled the handcuffs from her calf pocket before moving to snap them securely around the Widow’s ankles. The woman grunted as a green glow filled the room and a shift of her hips proved her unable of even lifting her feet.

When Sonja straightened and reached to tuck a stray strand of hair back into her braid, the woman finally spoke. “Props.” she said.

“Thanks, we’ve been practicing that last bit for hours now. I was really worried about the execution.” Clint strolled around to the front of their captive, pockets bulging with confiscated weapons.

“Not you, Barton. I knew you were on my ass for months. Her I wasn’t even looking for.”

Sonja crossed her arms. “Case. Point. What’s your real name?”

“Natasha Romanov.”

The plain reply jarred both her and her partner equally and Clint took her arm, walking her as far back into the room as he could manage before inclining his forehead to make the whisper easier hear. “She’s going to try to play a game with us. Anyone around her is instantly compromised. I need you to stay with me.”

A sharp nod answered him and his grin danced with mischief as he swung back around to stroll over to Natasha with his bow forgotten and swinging in his left hand. Sonja did not even feign relaxation but rubbed her thumbs over the sweating hilts of her daggers.

“This about the Avengers initiative? I read all about it last week,” Natasha said.

“You know it is. That’s why you let us capture you.”

“Let?” Sonja’s arms slipped from their protective frame.

Clint pushed on, feigning deafness when Sonja knew good and well his hearing aids were in. “You’ve got a nasty ledger and S.H.I.E.L.D. only wants to help you rectify it through the Avengers.”

“Avengers?” Sonja questioned.

“I’m fine where I am,” Natasha retorted giving the glowing shackles weighing down her feet a good tug and only ending up on her knees which, despite the powerless position, she somehow conveyed was right where she wanted to be.

Clint sighed and dropped as well. “You’re fine painting every city you go to with blood for people you don’t even know? The Avengers are going to protect the world and we want you to be a part of that.”

“Cute speech. Did Sonja feed it to you? You’re not bright enough to try the emotion ploy.”

Sonja was too busy puzzling how she knew her name to reply. That’s when the first bullet cut through the air and buried itself clean in Clint’s left calf. When he keeled forward in pain, Natasha swiped the gun tucked into the back of his belt and began firing to cover all their asses.

Lurching forward, Sonja kicked the door shut and pried her pistol from her belt as her back smacked against the wall. “Clint!” she called when he finally lifted himself from the ground.

“You led the Samarians here!” Natasha shouted as bullets pelted the door and walls relentlessly.

“Whoops,” Clint managed.

“Damn right you’re gonna need my help with the Avengers if you can’t even manage to stay off their radar. I assume you at least had an escape route in place.”

Clint wiped his bloody hand off on his shirt and primed an arrow for release should their defenses be breached by the crew. “Boat out back.”

“You’re gonna have to uncuff me.” Natasha called, firing precisely through an already fragile portion of the wall to produce a thunk of dead weight only a few yard away.

The deadly accuracy made Clint hesitate as he added in yet another variable, but Sonja just tossed the keys without a word and returned to keeping her gun aimed at the door.

“Barton go first and we’ll cover you,” Natasha called as she dodged a bullet cutting entirely too close to her brain. When she sat up straight again a line of red across her forehead added to her already flaming hair and scarlet pjs look.

Clint’s gaze snapped to Sonja unwavering in its unspoken question: would she be ok alone?

“Get out of here, Hawkeye,” she added the last bit to help him depersonalize, to remind him this was just a mission and all lives involved were expendable. “I’m right behind you,” she continued when he did not move.

His mouth curved up as he heaved himself onto mostly steady feet and sprinted to the backdoor while Sonja and Natasha laid down cover fire until both were down a clip. “Together?” Natasha called.

“Hell, why not?”

Sonja leapt up first, followed shortly by the much faster woman. The night air was thick with humidity that only pooled more sweat on their skin. On the free side of the house, a man screamed as the now awakened guard dog set to work. The other side was occluded by the closely stacks buildings and on the water just ahead, Clint revved the waiting engine of the speed boat.

Natasha waded into the water and slung her leg over the side, hauling herself on board in one fluid motion. Sonja had time to see her eyes go wide before she heard the other female voice cut through the night, “Chief!”

A sword was leveled at her instead of a gun and Sonja had the absolute pleasure of facing her old boss when she turned around. “Ma’am,” she replied without a trace of emotion.

She heard the cock of Natasha’s gun along with the wiry draw of Clint’s bow and briefly wondered if he could even keep his hands steady at the moment due to the blood loss.

“Or is it Agent Zero now?”

“Whatever you prefer, Ma’am.”

“Shall we settle this like the duals of old or has all your honor gone through the window with the american?”

Sonja heard Natasha grumble about being ignored as she tucked her gun into her pocket and produced a dagger. The other hand reached for her back pocket slower all the while keeping her opponent's gaze fixed on her words. Ma’am’s bulky henchmen fanned out behind her patiently waiting to be allowed to have some fun with the traitor and spy.

“What can I say? He brought presents.”

She waited the appropriate ten seconds for the meaning behind her words to smash into Clint before she pulled the pin. The homemade grenade sailed from her hand while her body was flung in the other direction. Her side slammed into the boat and Natasha just managed to get a drip on her belt before Clint slammed the throttle into its highest gear. He was ducked on the floor by the steering console for safety just as Natasha had thrown herself beneath the low walls at Clint’s advisement.

“When did you even have time to make that?” he demanded, driving blindly down the wide river.

“You’re the one who apparently knows everything,” she snapped.

“Christ, I’m sorry, alright. You weren’t cleared to know.” He paused then turned to her while Natasha huffed and took over driving. “Zero failed missions?”

“Guess again.”

“Zero like you were the original?”

“You’re not cleared, asshole.”

***

Natasha made airports her bitch with the new fresh faced S.H.I.E.L.D recruits scurrying behind her toting her luggage and a flight attendant rushing to retrieve her properly iced water. She shot Sonja a lazy wink but the other woman was too busy scowling away any potential disturbances to do anything other than reshoulder her backpack.

Clint took the lead, his reputation sending the herd of freshmen scattering in his wake of glory. Sonja quickened her steps, determined to talk to him now that the paramedics aboard their evac copter were no longer shooting him full of drugs.

“You’re not careless,” she said once she matched long legs to his abrupt stride.

“Think Nat will make them carry her?” he mused, wincing when he stopped focusing on his uneven gait.

Sonja caught under his arm and he glanced over through sleep deprived blue eyes and the tangles his cropped hair had somehow managed to tie itself into. “You gonna make me carry you?” she countered.

“I’ve got it.”

The usual airport crowd of proud mothers, blubbering fathers, and excitable kids ready to go off and make lives for themselves meandered past them. Sonja wondered what life awaited her back at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

“I was born there, you know. S.H.I.E.L.D that is. Born and raised. I don’t exist to our government because S.H.I.E.L.D doesn’t. I’m nothing, I’m just zero.”

“I let the Samarians follow us,” he admitted in the breath after she finished her confession.

“I know. You’re not careless. You needed a common enemy for us to get Romanov on our side.”

“I was going to apologize for ruining your original mission, but I think all of earth takes precedence. We wouldn’t have made it out of there if not for you.”

“Taking out Ma’am was my mission Clint. Yesterday was the first time I saw her in person. I spent years working my way up through the ranks only to figure out I would only ever be important to her when I betrayed her.”

“You’re welcome, then.” He leaned in when he sang it and she gave his face a shove away as they exited the building through sliding glass doors and reached a junction in the sidewalk where she would climb into the car that would carry her home and he would get in his rental and drive out to his next mission.

“How long has it been since you’ve been stateside?”

“Just four years. I haven’t been home since I was a teenager, though when I completed my training.”

“You don’t have to face those bastards, you know. I’ve got something involving lightning and a hammer waiting for me. Could use some backup I trust.”

“Sounds alpha level. I’ll leave you to it.”

He nodded, shifting his weight off his bad leg and closing the humming space between their bodies just enough for her to notice it was deliberate. Her hand shifted under the strap of her bag while she toed at some bits of loose gravel beneath her sneakers.

“Guess this is goodbye, then. Keep an eye on Nat for me, will you? She respects you.”

“Only because she was comparing me to you.”

His mouth pulled up in a smile she had grown all too accustomed to seeing regularly and had truthfully taken for granted now that he was leaving. The civil term of closer inspection crossed her mind as she leaned in further still followed by the embarrassing real word she had been searching for--a kiss.

She could not even recall the last time she had kissed someone without an ulterior motive. She expected him to politely return it or to laugh and tell her to collect herself, not for him to bite her lip and slide his lips between hers like the whole damn earth might spin off course if he did not. His hands were soft in her hair and his hand slid down tracing over her cheek so that his fingers replaced his lips when he reluctantly pulled away.

“Put a pin in that, Sonja?”

“You mean like when I pinned you? Or what I pulled the pin on the grenade?”

“No explosions and no more beating me up.” He punctuated his sentence with a rushed kiss to her forehead. “Unless we can twist those into kinky things.”

“Oh, it’s possible,” Natasha called as she strolled past and climbed into the waiting black SUV.

Sonja gave his chest a push and took two controlled steps backwards simply because if she didn’t there was no guarantee either of them would be setting out on their respective journeys today.

“Goodbye,” Sonja said.

With a wink that sent her spiraling higher than the pyres of Moscow’s finest cathedrals Clint Barton was gone.

[hihoneyimdead]

Post for Friday Night Fights by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

I’ve never done one of these before, but I also haven’t written anything original in months, so I brought out some new ocs! This was kinda hard but I like these guys and might sneak them into my wip! 

Meet Emerson, known asshole, Smith, known ghost, and Rogers, known coward. 

“What, may I ask, the actual fuck is a Streamy?”

I ignore the question and smack Smith away with a salt-covered hand. Smith skitters backwards with a hiss and a flutter of the curtains and flickering of the lights. Thankfully my laptop isn’t plugged in because there is no way in any of the hells that I can afford a new one. Not after last time.

“Personal space,” I snap, eye twitching. The costs of this operation are going through the roof already, what with the house and the new laptop and the new phone and the new everything because someone refuses to accept that electronics aren’t as dense as they were when he was a kid, like, a billion years ago. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”

“I was an orphan,” Smith says. 

“Not my problem. Now, listen, get close to me again, and I will call Rogers back in.”

Behind me, he shudders, the room’s temperature dropping a good couple of degrees. Thank God for the summer heat (for once, and never again.) I’m sure that Rogers, miles and miles away tucked under his sorry excuse for a church praying to whatever god he’s worshiping this week, is doing the same. Times like this make me wish I didn’t settle down here, or that I had picked a better haunting ground to steal in the name of fame, fortune, and a future in reality television. I made the active decision, after all, to buy a haunted house. Not only was it infinitely cheaper, but it gave me the ability to capitalize on the haunting with a YouTube series and an incredibly active Twitter account. This is my burden, for worse or for worse, and I brought it upon myself. Though if the gods are really this against me, I should have just stayed in the hospital. At least the ghosts there are competent. 

-

Retirement came easy once I was told I would never walk again. Not like I can go around hunting ghosts and being the hero in a wheelchair, not until I can afford one that doesn’t break down every time I even think about leaving a hardwood surface (because even her extremely generous life insurance can only get so far.) And I had thought at the time that it would be good for me. Running around for so long, it’s tiring. Was tiring. I could go to therapy, finally, or get to work on that novel I’d been planning since middle school. 

And then I saw therapy costs and broke the lead on my pencil every time I tried putting it to paper, seeing her eyes as she-

Rogers told me to start a diary. Helped him when he was down, he said. But he was also curled up under my dining table clutching a bagel to his chest as Smith looked down upon us upside-down through the ceiling, concerned as ever. 

But pencils are bad. Pens are expensive, and they run out of ink too quickly (Smith keeps stealing them to write in his own diary up in the attic where he knows I can’t go and steal them back and also send his ass to the hells where he belongs.) Paper rips, and it cuts, and I don’t like bleeding all too much. But my laptop had a camera, a cheap one that was grainy and shitty and barely picked up audio after so long sitting in a case next to my bed gathering dust. 

-

“So I just stand like... this?” Smith asks, head detached and tucked under his arm. He sticks his tongue out and widens his eyes until they’re, literally, the size of dinner plates.

Rogers, cowering under his hat, shakes his head. “Ah. No? I... Em?”

I roll my eyes and roll over to take Smith’s head and put it under his other arm, poking his eye in the process. He only protests a little. 

“What’s with the face?” I ask, nose wrinkled. “Aren’t you supposed to be, you know, scary?”

“I am.” Smith pouts, notably not scary. 

Smith is the least scary apparition I have ever had the displeasure of dealing with. Not only does he have all of his body parts intact (he died of poisoning, or something, fuck if I know or care), but he also cries when I even mention bringing out the holy water. One time he hid under Rogers’ coat when he came over, much to Rogers’ absolute horror and terror. But he also won’t be exorcised, no matter what I try. It’s annoying. There’s another ghost here somewhere perfect for this, I know, I feel. I can feel them sitting in the storm cellar by where Rogers says the apparent rows of shelves of empty, dusty jars sits. 

Rogers squeaks and pulls his hat lower over his face. “He is, he is! Em, please!”

I roll my eyes and pinch Smith’s cheek. Hard. “Could it kill you to try, you know, being the evil, demonic spirit you are?”

“I’m not evil. And I’m already dead, jackass.”

“Most assuredly dead,” Rogers agrees. 

In the cellar, I can faintly feel the presence floating up to listen, as it has been for the past week and a half as we try and get this pilot episode filmed. 

“Buzzed Feed isn’t going to pick us up if you. Are. Not. Scary!” I snap, pinching Smith’s cheek for emphasis. 

“Do you mean Buzzfeed?” Rogers asks. 

“The fuck is a Buzzfeed?” Smith asks. 

I groan and look to the presence beneath the floorboards. It’s laughing. I hate it. 

“Buzzfeed isn’t into this stuff, dude,” Rogers says. “You’re thinking of Netflix.”

“What’s a Netflix?” Smith asks. 

If she were alive, Sammi would be laughing at us. But she’s not, and I don’t think she would know what a ‘Net flicks’ is, either. 

“Didn’t you die in 2008?” Rogers asks, peeking out from under his hat. 

“1908.”

“Ah.”

“That’s a whole century apart! How did you get that wrong?”

“I’m sorry!”

I push myself back and away from the shitty ghost and the shittier exorcist with a huff, going to retrieve my laptop from its spot on the counter so I can pull up that breathing website (it’s the only good thing Rogers has ever found.) The spirit below follows me. 

Smith coughs, the already-flickering kitchen light going out for half a second, and Rogers screams, and I count down from ten in my mind. I’m not going to run my idiot best friend over. I’m not going to get him to exorcise the key to my future success. We are going to make a television show, I am going to get the royalties, and I am going to bury my sister where she belongs. 

I let out a five-second breath, tuning the two idiots out. It’s going to fine. It’s going to be fine. 

And then the spirit underneath me pushes its way through the floorboards and through my lap and I almost fall out of my chair because-

“What the fuck?” Smith demands. I don’t even have the energy to jump or slap him as he appears by my side, head reattached. He jabs a finger into the other spirit’s chest, literally. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know.” The other Smith smiles, all teeth, bloody. He’s bloody. 

“Em hates tea,” Rogers unnecessarily says, probably frozen in fear and-slash-or shivering like a shaved penguin where he stands. 

“This is the worst-case scenario,” I say. “Please get out of me before I have a heart attack.”

He doesn’t, so I do.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 38

Catch up on AO3

Happy Birthday Bonus Day. Ok, I'm also babysitting my niece until Monday and won't be online.

~*~Sebastian~*~

The phone call from my manager, Emily, was about the shoot for the watch ad. At the end, she tacked on there had been a random tweet saying, "I think I just saw The Winter Soldier kidnap and carry off a woman." I guess someone did see. Naturally, it turned into a thing with fans asking for pictures "or it didn't" happen and location. Poor guy was just posting something random to his friends and got overrun. His next tweet was "Fuck, y'all are crazy. I'm being stupid, drunk by the water, and you lose your damn minds." He has no idea. His comment about water has everyone thinking I'm at the beach. I wish. Although, I am at a sand volleyball tournament.

I went back outside and Emma wasn't at the table. I could see her out on the court. I got closer and was treated with tiny orange shorts. Those were exactly what flashed into my head when she said she played volleyball. Except I pictured the shorts black. I wasn't going to bitch about the orange. I was already making plans around peeling them off. The best I could do right now was a kiss through some black netting.

After meeting the team, I went back to the table and introduced myself. Scott stared for a bit, but after a few minutes of conversation with Samantha he joined in. This was the way it usually happened. There was a period of weird silence before my behavior convinced them I'm no different from anyone else. Once I can get them from seeing a twenty-foot version of me on a movie screen to seeing the guy in front of them things are pretty normal.

As much as I was enjoying the conversation when the game started I went up to the railing. Emma’s team started on the side that wasn't fronted by the deck. I wanted to see. I'd done my research, so I knew after the first set they'd switch sides. I'd sit down then. Maybe. I was rewarded with a smile when they took their places and she saw me.

Things didn't start well. The other teamed scored three quick points. We'd close in, then they'd pull ahead again. I learned from Samantha that Emma was the setter. She was in charge of the offensive and Pete directed defense. Her obsessive planning would probably come in handy here. When we were behind ten to twelve Pete called a time out. They ran over to the bench under where I was standing. Emma told them what she saw the other team doing and gave each of them direction. Pete added in a little, but it was mostly her. She was confident, direct, and at the end brought them together for a quick cheer and told them, "We got this."  All through this, she paid zero attention to me. She was laser-focused like I wasn't even there.

Which made me hard.

From then on there was no more being behind. It was like the first part of the match was them figuring the other side out and now they were playing for real. Emma's yelling out names. Pete's telling people to move. And then there's the physicality of it. She was quick. She would dive to keep the ball from hitting the ground, barely dump it over the net, and set the ball up for one of the guys. The last one looked like she was barely touching the ball, but I knew the strength in those fingers. I'm sure the others were doing all sorts of shit too, but I was only paying attention to her. What she wasn't very good at was serving. She didn't suck. It just wasn't her strong suit.

I kept quiet throughout the set until the final score. I did a fist pump and yelled, "Yes!"

Final score twenty-five to twenty.

They headed to the bench, all smiling but not too big, and started gathering their stuff. Emma gathered her clothes over her arm before looking at me. It wasn't over yet so I gave her a thumbs up and mouthed, "Good job."

Emma stepped up on the bench like she had before the game and reached her fingers through the netting. Reaching for me. I linked my fingers with hers and met her for another kiss in a little square. She smiled and whispered, "For luck."

Nick came close and looked up," You have to do that before every set now. Superstition rules sports."

I looked around Emma to see him, "Not a hardship."

I went back to the table for the second set. Samantha, who told me to call her Sam, provided a steady commentary and answered any questions I had. I should have started back here. I had a much better understanding of roles, strategy, and gameplay by the time they won the second set and therefore the game.

Scott pointed between me and Sam, "One of you bar bitches needs to go get beer."

I jumped off the chair, I'll get it."

I looked at Sam, "What do I get?

"Bucket of Corona and one of Modelo."

"Thank you. Be right back."

The team was already at the table when I got there.

Pete looked at me as I put the buckets down. "You're going to need to be faster if you want to keep your bar bitch job."

It was good that they were giving me shit. Normal. I grabbed two of the Modelos. "I set up a tab. It'll be quicker next time."

He looked aghast, "You left your credit card?"

"I think they trust me." I opened the bottles and walked to where Emma sat, kissing her before handing off the beer. "That was great. You were great. " I quickly looked at the others, "I'm sure you all were too, but I was only paying attention to her. I'II watch everyone next game."

Jeff smiled around his beer bottle, "No, you won't."

"I'll make an effort." No one was believing me. I couldn't blame them. I ran my hand over Emma’s shoulders, "How long till the next game?"

"The team we’ll play, their game isn’t over yet." She pointed to court two. "We'll get twenty or so minutes once they're done. Wanna go watch the end?"

"Sure."

Emma took my hand and we went to the railing. "Which team do you want to win?"

She looked at both teams. "I don't know them. They're from a different league." She watched both for a minute, "Shit."

I turned toward her, leaning my arm on the counters, "What's up?"

"I went out with one of the guys on the green team." She'd moved to put her back to them.

"Hmm." I raised an eyebrow while I took a drink. Kinda thankful it's one of hers and not one of mine. "How long?"

"Just a couple of times. I didn't sleep with him." She shuddered, "He said some mildly creepy things and I ditched."

I was surprised by how relieved I felt when she said they hadn’t slept together. "Thank you for telling me."

"I wouldn't let you walk into a situation where you're the only one who doesn’t know." She ran a hand over my forearm.

Aw, she was worried. Cute. I took her hand off my arm and kissed it, "You know I make out and pretend to have sex in movies, right?"

She cracked a smile, "I hear you kiss boys too."

I can guess where she heard that from. "I have. Only for work though."

Her laughter made me smile, "I don't care if it was not for work."

I closed my eyes and shook my head, "This conversation." I opened my eyes, "I don't care if you dated some guy out there. Unless it's the blonde with long hair." Emma curled in her lips. "Oh come on!"

She shrugged and went for a change of subject. "I also heard you were Pete and Scott's Hall Pass."

"I knew that."

Her look was a cross between surprised and horrified. "I can't believe Scott told you."

"I don't think he meant to."

There was a commotion on the court. The blondes team won.

Time to go! "Ready to go back to the table?"

"Yes, please."

I put my arm around her shoulder as we walked. "Can we talk about your ass in those shorts?"

"Do you like? I bought them with you in mind."

"I do like them." We were back at the table with everyone else. I leaned closer, "I'd like to peel them off you. With my teeth."

Seed one and five were playing on court one. We'd be on court two against the blonde’s team, a two seed. I was nervous. Emma was bouncing like she had at home. I took both her hands, holding them in front of me, "Jump around. I got you."

She jumped up and down a few times, "What's this supposed to do?"

I looked sheepish, "No idea. Distraction. "

She laughed, "Worth a try. Thanks for being supportive of my crazy."

I asked again, “Anything I can get for you?"

Emma nodded emphatically, "Yes. At the switch between sets, I've got thirty seconds. Could you bring me a diet coke and a Reese Cup? Frozen.”

I repeated her order and nodded once. She must feel like she'll need a mid-game boost.

Sam's bar bitch duty was to fill up the water bottles. Emma made a bathroom run and I folded her closes and put them in the bottom of the bag. I dug out her cooling scarf. It was one o’clock in June right out in the sun. I dunked her scarf in the ice water for the beer, rung it out, and hung it over my shoulder. I had the sunscreen out when she got back.

When she saw what I held she smiled, "Thanks, I forgot. Will you get my back?"

"Discount massage all for you."

Everything is not foreplay. Repeat. Everything is not foreplay.

Emma took off her tank top for me to access everywhere. I was very thorough.  I didn’t want her to burn. A bad sunburn can be brutal. After I finished with her, she insisted on covering me. I didn’t have the same degree of exposed skin, but she tried. Sun protection aside, it was more about the touching.

Everything is foreplay.

They were called to the courts and Emma came for her good luck kiss. There was no netting so there was a bit of tongue involved. That would see me through the next set or so.

This game had me sitting on the edge of my seat and pacing closer to the railing. Sam stayed with me with Scott seemed barely interested. Points went on forever and they traded off the lead every serve. They did the same thing with taking a time out when they reached ten points, but the results weren’t quite as dramatic. They pulled ahead a few points and were keeping the lead. When they reached twenty points, I walked backward to the bar to get Emma’s Diet Coke and a frozen Reese Cup. I jogged back to the railing just in time to see my girl reject a spike from the blonde, Becky set the ball, and Nick send it back to win the set.

I was back by Sam, “Fuck, that was dramatic.” She looked at me like she knew something I didn’t. I laughed, “I know they went out.”

Her face read relieved, “Oh good, I suck at secrets.”

Emma came off the court and directed me down to the end where there was an opening in the netting. I had the Reese Cup open and the paper peeled off before I got to her. She shoved the whole thing in her mouth and mumbled a thank you.

“That was a great play.” She nodded and took a very long drink of Diet Coke.

Emma pressed her lips to mine. “Give me the Reese and you keep the Diet Coke.”

“Got it.” I dumped the candy out and handed it to her.

Second set they went up by five early, skipped the time out, and won twenty-five to eighteen. Fuck, yeah! 

I went after beer and stopped by the board. This had them in the semi-finals with the one seed. They were already finished so the countdown was on. Emma came up behind me, laying her hand on my back, “We’re moving tables.”

“Court one, baby!” I kissed her cheek, “Semi-finals. I checked the board. This is cool. I’m taking pictures this game.”

It was more crowded on this side of the deck and I was thankful for her planning now. Nick and Jeff were moving the table up closer to the railing and it looked like Pete and Scott had stolen some more chairs. We were set up along the railing on either side of the net. Looked like a little horseshoe blockade. There were some extra people there too. Emma had said more people would show up for later games closer to dinner.  She introduced me to the new people, Nick taking care of the few she didn’t know. Emma passed on the beer, preferring to hydrate. Smart. I went for beer. I figured them playing the one seed was either going to be incredibly nerve-wracking or quickly depressing. I wasn’t sure which I dreading more. Either way, beer was the answer. Until shots were.

They called the teams to the court and Emma took a deep breath and jumped around a little. I was glad to see that. I was concerned because she hadn’t been as bouncy. “Ready to go, Tigger?”

She snorted a laugh, “If we win I’m going to need food. If we lose . . . I’m still gonna need food.”

All five of her teammates chimed in, “Me too.”

“You guys got this. You’ve been kicking ass. Just do what you do.” My attempt at a pep talk was appreciated by thanks and head nods.

Nick looked over and pointed, “Don’t forget the good luck kiss, man. Don’t break the streak.”

“I like him.” I gave her a quick kiss and sent her on her way.

The time between this game turned into more than thirty. The loser’s bracket was running behind and they wanted to even things out a little. If we won this team would go into the loser’s bracket and play someone so there would be more than an hour between the end of this and the next game.  The team stayed on the court and I listened to friends around me catching up.

Jacob, one of the newcomers, spoke up, “So Sebastian, on set, which of the Marvel guys was the biggest asshole?”

I had ready-made answers for this, but Sam put her hand on my arm and addressed him, “Yeah, we don’t do that. This isn’t a comic con.” She motioned to me with her hand, “This is our friend Seb, here for a volleyball game. If you have questions buy a ticket.”

Jacob held up his hands, “Fair enough.”

I shrugged, but inside I was cringing a little. Sometimes answering questions or taking pictures is the safer bet. I can control things a little better and ask people not to post anything for a little while. If you piss people off they do what they want without your permission.

I pointed my thumb at her, “Interviewing for my bodyguard.” Hopefully, that would break any tension.

Jacob laughed, “She doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit.”

The game started and I turned my back on everyone. Sam was beside me. “Renner.”

She looked at me confused, “What?”

“Renner’s the biggest asshole.”

We lost the first set. Badly. When Emma came over to switch sides she didn’t say a word. She popped up on the bench, gave me a kiss, and was off.  They started down by three in the second set. I leaned my elbows on the counter and looked back at Sam, “How’s she handle losing?”

Sam shook her head, “Haven’t lost yet. You’re a nervous little thing.”

“It’s new.”

“Sweet.” She looked out at the game then back to me. “She’s very competitive. Losing pisses her off, but she’s over it quick. Tequila helps.” She nodded toward the court, “But we haven’t lost yet.”

And we didn’t. One set all.

I wanted to vomit. I was tensing up with every play. Every time they scored, I was doing something. Yelling, “yes”. Making faces. Fist pumps. Banging on the counter. Anything to release the tension. There wasn’t anything dramatic, just solid play. Slowly we increased the lead. A point here, a point there. And they didn’t match it, didn’t catch up.

Twenty-five to nineteen. Sam and I both yelled, “Fuck, yeah!” at the same time.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part nine) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually)  Word count: ±5050 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part nine: Everyone deals with the aftermath of the fight differently. Worried about Dean, Y/N goes out to look for him, but doesn’t find the man she got to know in the past weeks. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Save Yourself - KALEO (Y/N and Dean scene), Burden - Foy Vance (end scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience!

Ride With Me Masterlist

     The evening has set in completely, a clouded sky obstructing a view of the galaxy above. Normally, a dark blue would stretch out above the ranch, blending into a lighter tone at the horizon in the west where the sun sank down hours ago. But today the sky is black. No moon nor stars decorate the night’s ceiling. Almost as if the weather knows that it’s not the time to be breathtaking. No one will look up to appreciate her anyway. 

     Y/N vacuumed the bunkhouse, then gave the kitchen a good once over, just to keep busy. Jo took her example and scrubbed the bathroom. At least the therapeutical cleanup isn’t for nothing, because there was enough sand between the floorboards for the footing of a new arena, and there were several organisms living on leftovers in the refrigerator. Wranglers are a bunch of swines, that much Y/N knows. She neatly folds the wrung out the cloth that she used, leaves it in the sink, and stares through the four-squared window. Still no sign of Dean. Honestly, she’s not sure if it would be reasonable to expect Ash back tonight, since he doesn’t have to show up for work in the morning. But Dean isn’t going to stay away, is he?

     While she is cleaning the faucet until she’s able to see her own reflection in the copper, she moves past denying how worried she is about him. Staying here and letting him be, as Jo put it, feels wrong. A breath of air rolls from her lips when she eyes the wall clock again. Ten minutes to nine; he’s been gone for almost two hours. For a moment she contemplates what to do next. She can still ride Meadow, even though she intended to give her the day off. It will keep her busy, for sure, her horse will probably offer some comfort, too. But she cannot take away the concern she carries for the head wrangler, only he can do that. With three determined steps she’s by the door opening, and is about to push away the fly curtain, when she hears stumbling, coming from behind. Jo just exited the bathroom, almost tripping over the stick of the mop while holding up a bucket of water. She has purple rubber gloves on, her blonde hair looks quite similar to the rag she is holding, and her shirt is pulled into a knot above her belly button. It’s quite a peculiar sight.

     “Where are you going?” she asks, perplexed. Surely, Y/N isn’t going to leave her friend to scrub the floor alone.      “I’m gonna go to the stables. I think we did enough cleaning for one day, or a week,” she excuses.      “To the stables, my ass. You’re going after Dean, ain’t ya?”      Y/N opens her mouth to counter Jo with a firm ‘no’, but when she looks at her friend, she drops the act. One cocked eyebrow, that same judgemental grin she gave the intern when she commented on her boots being too clean for a ranch hand, the day the cowgirl picked her up from the airport. Darn, Jo is on to her. And so she presses her lips together and sighs.       “He seemed upset,” she utters.      “He’s a dude, he’ll live. Men are mad for a minute, walk it off and by the time they turn around, they have forgotten what the whole thing was about. They’re like goldfish,” her friend scoffs.      Y/N snorts at that comparison. Clearly the ranch owner’s daughter has a strong opinion of the other gender.             “I’m just going to check on him, alright?” she promises.      “Do what you gotta do,” Jo replies. “You know where I’ll be.”      Thankful Y/N smiles at her friend, then moves the fly curtain out of the way and steps outside. Jo might think it’s stupid of her to let Dean get under her skin, but that doesn’t mean she will leave her to struggle with it alone, in case it backfires. Odds are that the wrangler is going to hurt her feelings somewhere down the line, the numbers are not exactly in his favor. But knowing that Jo will be there with a safety net ready to catch her, is reassuring. After a mocking ‘hate to say I told you so’, she will be her friend. 

     Grateful, Y/N walks down in the direction she saw Dean disappear hours ago. The air is thick, as if another thunderstorm is about to break out. The wind died down completely, leaving the lands in silence. The only sound she can detect, is a rhythmical pound every so many seconds, much like a pile-driver. Y/N isn’t far off, because when she reaches the cattle pens, she finds Dean, slamming a post into the ground with a sledgehammer. Seems like she wasn’t the only one who kept her hands busy to get through the evening.       Clearly still worked up over the fight he had with Ash, Dean swings the hammer over his head with everything that he’s got and hits the pole on the head. His grey shirt sticks to his torso, sweat shimmering on his skin, brought out by the lampposts that light the driveway. Veins lay thick on his forearms, dust and dirt smudges add to the shades in his dark features. He hadn’t noticed her yet, so caught up in the work that he fails to hear her footsteps. In silence, she watches, both intrigued and intimidated, but eventually gathers the courage to announce herself.      “Dean?”

     He pauses his action for a brief second and looks at the timid woman, bewildered. Out of breath, he takes her in, but decides not to respond and heaves the hammer again in order to smash it down, driving the post deeper into the ground.      “It’s getting pretty late,” she adds, hoping to get some kind of response that is more than just a look.      “I have to finish this fence,” he returns, his voice monotone, as if he is trying to restrain every emotion.      “The fence will still be there tomorrow,” Y/N returns.      “I’d rather fix it now.” He hits the pole again. “At least this fucking fence –” and again, “– I can fix.”      Oh, yeah; this is definitely a good way to deal with things. Y/N watches him jam the sledgehammer down a couple of more times, overworking his body.       “You’ve been going at it since 4 AM,” she counters, trying to convince him. “Please come inside?”      “I’m fine,” he replies bluntly, between swings.      Y/N huffs, sarcasm evident. “Yeah, I can see that.”      The head wrangler doesn’t respond, yet keeps grinding. He feels the young woman’s eyes on him, though. She is reading into his actions, his words, his behavior, and it’s bugging the hell out of him. 

     Cautiously, she moves in a few steps closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”      He drops the sledgehammer on the ground with a loud thump and turns to her, chest heaving and clearly annoyed.      “Do I look like I wanna talk about it?” he scolds between breaths. “I told you I’m fine!”      Taken aback by the hostility in his voice, Y/N stares at him. This is a side of Dean she has never seen before. Sure, he gave her a cold shoulder when she turned him down on her first night at the ranch, but the darkness that clouds his eyes now is different. He has closed himself off and as he was rebuilding the fence, he pulled up a wall as well. She understands that he’s hurt, but he is the second friend to lash out at her tonight and it’s more than she can handle.      “You know what? I won’t waste your time then. I’m certainly not going to waste any more of my time on you,” she spits, acrimony on her tongue. “Good luck with your damn fence.”

     Angry, Y/N turns on her heels before he can spot the tears burning in her eyes. Hurried steps take her away from the man that gets to her more than she should let him. You dumb goose. How could you have been so naive? Jo was right to warn her every single time she did. She has known her cousin her entire life and still Y/N begged to differ. For hours, she’s been worried about the guy who is only nice to his intern when he thinks he can seize the opportunity to get her into his bed. She empathized with him, and this is what she gets in return. A snarl from that selfish dick when she tries to help him. The cowgirl can hear him call out for her, but she ignores it. It’s not until she hears her name again close behind her, that she hesitates.      “Y/N…”      Strong yet tender fingers lock around her wrist and stop the woman who tries to flee from him. The action spins her around, but she avoids Dean’s eyes. When Y/N does glance up into those green orbs bouncing over her features, she can detect the dismay in his expression. If there is anything that she does not want him to see, it’s the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks.           The bitterness that affected his temper a moment ago is gone and guilt replaces it. Shit, what has he done?      “I’m sorry,” he says, not a trace of swallowed pride. “You’ve been blamed for things that ain’t your fault enough today. You didn’t deserve that.”      He loosens the grip on her wrist a little and lets his fingers slide down her smooth skin until he holds her hand, squeezing it gently. There are so many emotions from both sides of the spectrum coursing through Y/N, but the most evident is the sensation that races up and down every nerve like a racetrack, the start and finish where he touches her. She looks down at their entwined fingers, at how her hand, soft from the all-purpose cleaner, fits in his palm. This is the first time that there is intentional physical contact and it shuts down her brain and sends her heart into overdrive. 

     “You’re not fine,” she manages to say. “I’m not a simpleton, Dean.”      “I know you’re not,” he acknowledges. “It’s just that…”      He pauses, hesitant about his next step. Opening up about the things that occupy his mind and keep him up at night is not something he’s comfortable with. His entire life he only had a few of those conversations, a few with Bobby, the others with Ellen. He only talked to them because they already knew a thing or two about his past and the issues that it brought along. But apparently the newest member of the crew is able to pierce through that veil and see behind the mask he thought he wore so well.       “Dean… I know this isn’t all about Ash, and whatever it is that is bothering you, it’s okay. You can talk to me.” Y/N squeezes his hand, ensuring, letting him know she’s ready to listen.      The anger she felt a moment ago when he shut down on her has disappeared as the ice on the lakes at the end of winter, back in Freeport. She isn’t even sure how this happened, but standing here in the wide-open spaces, lingering in his touch, it feels so good and so safe. It brings a calm over her she didn’t realize she longed for. 

     “I - I don’t really talk about this stuff,” the head wrangler admits. “I dunno, it feels like when I do, I just rattle shit up… It wouldn’t do anyone good.”      He lets go of her, before the girl he feels attracted to starts to wonder what the connection means, but runs his thumb over her knuckles gently before her fingers slip from his. The moment he pulls away, the wrangler already aches for her touch. Uneasy, he turns away and rests both his hands on the mid rail of the fence, his hunched shoulders blocking a clear view of his face. He cannot let her see it. He cannot let her see him.      “So that’s your strategy? When something bad happens, you bury it?”       Y/N isn’t judging him, he can tell by the way she asks the question and is looking at him, curious and sympathetic. What she is doing, though, is trying to understand how his mind works. What if she’s able to decipher his code? What if she can speak this foreign language that he made his? What if she figures me out?      Just the thought of letting it all rise to the surface scares Dean to death. Knowing that the one person he wants to impress, who he wants to do good by, will be able to tell how broken he truly is. And yet, despite the fear that is eating him up inside, he cannot pretend. He cannot lie to her.      “Yeah, I guess I do,” he admits. “Usually it works for me.”      “But not always,” she knows.      “No, not always.”

     He’s quiet now, his gaze locked on the soil that has become solid again after this morning’s rain. Y/N observes his body language; how he’s turned slightly away from her, head tipped down, resting his arms on the fence as if he needs something to lean on. It’s a stark contrast to the confident smile and bright eyes that she got used to. This is a part of him people rarely get to see, Y/N is very much aware of that. What she’s also aware of, is how delicate the situation is. Pushing him to talk will only trigger the opposite, and so she lets him be. The words she leaves between the two of them have only one purpose: to make him feel better.      “If you don’t feel like talking, that’s alright. But what happened to Ash, you know he was wrong to take it out on you, right? This is not your fault.”      Even in the dim light she can see his jaw flex, confirming her suspicion that he does, indeed, blames himself for his friend’s departure.      “It was my decision. One I had to make, but still. At least I should’ve been honest with him. He had a hunch that something wasn’t right and I could have eased him into it. Instead, I told him everything was going to be alright. Who does that?” the handsome wrangler ponders, able to kick himself in the head for his tactic. “He’s family, he deserves better.”      “You tried to protect him,” Y/N soothes.      The cowboy scoffs and pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth. “And look how that turned out…”

     Dean appreciates the cowgirl’s efforts. Hell, he admires her for them, because she could have walked off and let him rot after that snarl he gave her, and it would have done him justice. The thing is, Y/N wasn’t far off when she assumed that he wasn’t just upset about Ash. His whole life he has tried to protect the people he loved at the expense of himself, without question. One person stands out from all the others. A boy with hazel hair, bangs hanging in front of his eyes which used to look up to Dean admiringly. Always carrying some book around, always reading and studying. Quiet, observant, smart, a will of his own, even at a young age. A boy Dean fought for to keep safe, tried to make sure he would land on his feet alright, and be given all the opportunities he deserved. A boy who he took the hit for, every single time. A boy who would call Dean his big brother. A boy called Sam. He failed him, just like he failed Ash today.

     “Hey…”      The woman who is breaking down his walls brings him out of the trance he was stuck in, her voice alone having that effect. He turns to her again as she steps closer and looks up at him.      “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but sometimes it’s easier to open up to an outsider.”      She’s not done with her pledge, but Dean interrupts her either way.      “You’re not an outsider,” he makes clear. “I know you’re not from here, but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong. In fact, I think you are exactly where you should be.”      The words quiet her, leaving a smile on her lips and warmth in her heart. Feeling accepted and welcome, she lets her eyes glide over the dark desert lands on her right. Her surroundings look exactly the same as it did on the evening she arrived on the property. She remembers how alien this world seemed, witnessing a landscape like she had never seen. Her gaze captures the overhead sign above the driveway, ‘Gold Canyon Ranch’ carved out of the worn pinewood. Maybe Dean is right; maybe she is exactly where she needs to be.      “Well, outsider or not…” She restores eye contact, a calm exuding from her that soothes him. “You can always knock on my door.”      For the first time tonight, she can spot a glint of relief in his expression. It’s almost unnoticeable, but it’s there.      Dean is not going to make any promises, though. Not because he doesn’t want to get close to her; on the contrary. But revealing what he’s truly about, what has inflicted the scars which haven’t healed even after all those years, it will scare her away.       “Thank you,” he responds, grateful. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

     It’s a good enough answer for Y/N and she smiles back, glancing up into his eyes. There she is again, trapped like a butterfly in a spider’s web, unable to move or look away. His breathing has slowed and is back to normal after the exertion, but beads of sweat are still forming on his forehead, a drop rolling down his temple. He wipes his brow with his forearm, barely breaking eye contact. They both sense it, the change in the atmosphere, just like when the two had a moment under the Joshua tree. God, he wants to kiss her so bad that lust almost wins the battle it’s fighting with his confidence. He is offered another chance to make a move, but he’s not going to take it. This smart, kind, and strong woman deserves much better than the damaged man that he is. He breaks the tension by glancing down briefly while clearing his throat. When he looks back at her, he could swear he sees disappointment in her gorgeous eyes and regret stabs him in the gut.       “I’m, uh - I’m gonna finish up that fence,” he stammers, making a fist and pointing his thumb over his shoulder.       “Need a hand?” she asks, recovering quickly from the letdown.       Dean seems stunned by her offer, because he frowns at the intern after a double-take. “You want to help me fix the fence?”      “I’m only offering once,” she warns jokingly.      The head wrangler grins, amused. “Well, in that case. Yeah, I could use a hand,” he accepts.

     The cowgirl walks past him, eyeing him over her shoulder as she parades away. He stares for a second, smiling at the sight of her picking up the sledgehammer along the way, which apparently is heavier than she anticipated. The clumsy way she handles the large tool makes him chuckle, joyful for the first time tonight. No wonder, because without trying, she is absolutely stunning. A warmth spreads through him in waves, and he is highly aware of it. He recognizes the sensation. It has washed over him several times already, always when he laid his eyes on her. The girl with bright eyes and messy hair after a hard day’s work, despite her efforts to contain her locks. The girl who cares for others, who is kind to every living creature on this planet. She is beautiful in every way, inside and out. Under the yellow ray that falls down on her from the lantern above, she turns around. The spotlight creates dark shadows on the ground, but at the same time, it illuminates her features with a warm glow. 

     “Are you coming or what? That fence isn’t gonna fix itself,” she challenges.      Dean scoffs with a laugh, appreciating the attitude. Then he heads her way, stopping her when she almost loses her balance after heaving the large hammer above her head.      “Why don’t you give the sledgehammer to me, before someone gets hurt,” he mocks, holding out his hand.      “I can handle a hammer,” she returns, huffing defensive.      Doubtful, the wrangler looks back at her. “I think the fence is gonna disagree with you there.”      “Do you want my help, or not?” she recalls, letting out a laugh.      “Yeah, I want your help,” he admits. 

     The words lay deeper than would appear on first notice. It’s not intentional and Dean is worried for a second that she will pick up on what he really wants; he wants her to help him. Help him to heal, help him breathe, help him to love. No one has ever come through to him like she has already, and that’s exactly why he won’t make a move. He is beginning to understand what this all means, what is happening to him. How he feels about the newest member of the crew, is different. It’s mind-blowing and exciting, yet at the same time, it scares the shit out of him. The space she has occupied in his heart is growing steadily, but he can’t allow himself to act on it, because he simply can’t be selfish with her. That’s okay, though. Having her around as a colleague and a friend for the limited time she will stay with him trumps not having her in his life at all.       “I’m gonna give this pole a couple more knocks on the head. Can you fetch the new woodwork?” He nods at the wooden planks, stacked up in the back of his truck, a little further on the driveway.

     Reluctantly, Y/N lets go of the hammer and turns to get the new material for the fence. By the time she brings three new rails over, he has leveled the post with the others still standing. While she holds the board in place, Dean nails it to the post. In order to hold still, Y/N stands close to the head wrangler as he secures the fence. She fixates on the plank she’s holding, trying to ignore the fact that she is seriously invading his personal space. He smells like the damp earth below their feet and a hint of deodorant mixed with hard work; it’s the opposite of a turn-off. Trying to distract herself, she listens to the ticking sound of the head on the pin, until all the new woodwork is mounted to the posts. Sometimes he pauses for just a short second, his gaze burning her skin. Once he’s done, Y/N picks up the broken pieces left by the cattle when they stormed through, and carries them to Dean’s Chevrolet, where she lays the wood down in the cargo bed. Now that she and the handsome wrangler are a few more feet apart, she feels like she can breathe again, missing him close by at the same time. As she leans against the truck, he loads up the last of the wood that he didn’t use for the restoration. Again, his eyes linger on her briefly; the poor guy just cannot help himself, can he? Suddenly she feels bold.

     “Ash was right about one thing, though.”      “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he wonders, as he dusts off his hands.      She grins cheeky, biting her bottom lip. “You are desperate to get in my pants.”      Dean stares at the cowgirl flabbergasted, eyebrows shooting up. Whoa, where the hell did the shy girl go? One question surfaces in the sea of thoughts that her remark triggered; what is her angle? Does she want him to get in her pants? The handsome wrangler scoffs nervously and looks down flustered, as he rubs the back of his neck. But he doesn’t deny it. He can’t.       “What, no comeback?” she nags, expecting either a smart or flirty return.      “There are some things I just can’t argue with,” he chuckles, a blush pushing past the freckles on his cheeks. “Ain’t no reason to get cocky, though.”

     He winks at her flirtatiously, his bright green eyes joined by a smug grin and Y/N cannot help but laugh. Who would have known that she missed Cowboy Casanova? It’s good to see he got his wit back, because he had her worried there for a second. She has spotted the pattern, though. Whenever he is forced to deal with an issue he wants to steer clear of, he dodges the matter by either making fun of the situation or by shutting down completely. So this is his defense mechanism, this is his armor. But beneath all the silence and the horse crap, he admitted straight up that he wants her. Ash might have implied that the head wrangler is only following her like a lost puppy because he wants to keep counting the girls he had in fives, but Y/N knows that’s not all that there is to it. With nothing more than a look, he made it pretty clear he feels something for her that Friday evening after training when they had a moment under the Joshua tree. Now that assumption has been confirmed. 

     As the gears in her head are turning, she begins to walk across the gravel parking lot back to the bunkhouse, but it’s not just her grey matter that is doing overtime. Contemplating his own words, Dean gets behind the wheel of his Chevrolet. The fact is, he wasn’t just flirting. He’s simply telling the truth. But hasn’t that been the case the entire time? The wrangler is hungry for the new ranch hand, he’s pining so bad that selflessness alone is stopping him from running up the driveway and closing her in his arms. Strangely enough, it has nothing to do with sex, or greed, or any other sin, despite what others might think. For a moment, he worries if she might have read into his words just now. He doesn’t want to give her hope, or does he? Fighting his mind, he sighs; he’s so tired he can’t even think straight. 

     With a flip of the key, the engine comes alive, only to drive a couple of hundred yards. After steering the black pickup to a spot next to the shed, Dean leaves the transmission in park. He will unload tomorrow, today he’s calling it quits. A grunt passes his lips when he hoists himself out of the car again. Damn, if his muscles are sore now, he doesn’t want to picture how bad it’s going to hurt in the morning. Maybe a long hot shower will do him good, he definitely needs one to rid himself from the filth he’s covered in.       The head wrangler strolls up the trail that leads to his bed and finds the girl he’s losing himself to, watching the bunkhouse from some distance. When Dean levels with her, he sees why she stopped. On the bottom steps of the porch, two figures sit and talk: one of them is Jo, the other is Ash.       “Well, what do ya know,” Dean huffs, surprised.       Relieved, Y/N smiles. “Seems like he came around. Go talk to him.”

     His chest constricts a little with the thought of the confrontation alone and he hesitates. His friend is most likely still mad at him. What if doesn’t want to settle this? What if he screws it up again?       When Y/N detects that the man next to her is in two minds, she nudges him reassuringly with her shoulder, smiling at him before he gathers enough courage to step forward. The pair are walking up to the steps, when Jo spots them. The cattle worker next to her looks up now too, shame and uneasiness draping his features when he sees the head wrangler. The blonde cowgirl gets to her feet, picking up her hat that she had put down next to her.      “I’ll leave you guys to it,” she says. “Comin’, Yankee?”       Y/N nods and passes Dean, shortly squeezing his arm supportingly as she does.      “Good luck,” she whispers, as she glances over her shoulder.            He nods at her thankfully and takes Jo’s spot on the porch stairs, as the two girls retreat inside. An awkwardness fills the air within seconds, thick and suffocating, yet neither of the men say anything in order to break it. After what feels like minutes of going over what has been said and still needs to be, Ash gets up. Motionless, Dean sits on the step, forearms on his knees, fingers forked together. He hears his friend’s footsteps on the floorboards, followed by the rattling of the bamboo fly curtain and then the eerie silence; Ash has walked away. 

     Pained, Dean closes his eyes and presses the knuckles of his clasped hands against the bridge of his nose. The tightness in his chest that he felt when he realized he had to face his friend has turned into an uncomfortable ache now. It seems to be a recurring theme in his life, people walking out on him. Fuck, why is it so hard to do this? Why can’t he just tell Ash he’s sorry? He takes a breath and lifts his head, staring at the lights coming from the neighbors property, several miles up the road. Then something moves into his peripheral vision and he turns to find a can of PBR beer handed to him. Dean’s eyes move up to see who is holding the beverage, the weight falling off his shoulders when he sees the guy who rocks the mullet. The head wrangler takes the cold refreshment while Ash sits down next to him again. They both open their cans and take a slug of the golden brew. The silence returns, but it’s a much more pleasant one this time. Without saying a word, they’ve made peace. That does not mean, though, that nothing should be said. 

     “Ash?”      “Hmm?”      “I - uh… I’m-–”      “– Yeah, brother. Me too.”

Thank you for reading! I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part ten here

[thewritingstar]

Brickercup: End of the world and I’m stuck with a jackass like you.

First time writing for them lol. But why are they the xmas ship? Green and red? haha. Just some family fluff and some butchubbles too because i can. 

Hope you enjoy!!

Tag list: @shellielyzabeth @over-under-through1 (if you wanna be added to the list just go to my tag list post :) ) 

Rated: T 

----

She always thought her death would be a remarkable one. It would be seen on tvs across the world as she took her last breath defending the city she loved. They would build statues in her honor and have awards in her name. It would be bloody, cruel and down right horrific. But it would be in the name sake of her duty. 

She could see it now. The swell of the beast, too powerful even for her. Its fist would come crashing down and as she flew to blow it to shreds with her sisters by her side, it would fall and die with a creaky scream as her body floated to the pavement and she smiled knowing she saved the world one last time. 

A worthy death for one of the greatest heroes in the world. 

Instead she was trapped in a deflating bounce house that had too much money on the security deposit to damage it. 

The plastic shrunk slowly. An annoying sound buzzing from it as the walls collapsed fast. You would think that two powerful beings could manage to get out of it, but at last, they were ambushed. 

 The stickiness made her uncomfortable as it caved around her body and of course it didn’t help that her husband's leg was thrown over her stomach. 

“Could you move your leg before I blast it to pieces?” She shouted over the sound of high pitched deflating. 

She could hear him grumble. “If I could I would woman!” 

-

This was all his fault. If he learned how to say no to his darling little five year old, they wouldn't be trapped in the sweltering heat trying to free themselves from this hell hole prison. But no. Little Blair had to get her way. 

“Momma please! Please can I have a pretty pony bouncy castle!” She was floating and batting her eyelashes but Buttercup knew better. 

It was going to be way too hot for an outside birthday but after she flew straight to daddys office and smiled, she was being carried in the arms of her husband and he had already rented the finest bouncy castle around. Not even Princess’s son would have it. 

Plus they had a pool so they could just toss the kids who complained about the heat into it. 

-

“Learn how to say no Jojo.” She said to him as she twisted her arm to lift up the plastic off her face. The giant eye of a blue pony stared at her through the netting making her shiver. 

His face was flush to the ground by now and he pushed himself up, accidentally kicking his wife's shin in the process. “You could have said something! Fuck! Wake her up from her nap and get her ass out here to plug it in.”

“Oh yeah, why don’t you just sonic scream at her and make her cry?” They knew better than to wake up a sleeping Blair. Oh no the temper of a red and green mixed together was more than anyone could handle. 

Buttercup was thankful in this moment that they only had one kid. That’s all they needed right now. 

Brick fell silent at this. “Great now we are stuck.” he mumbled as all the air went out. 

“End of the world and I’m stuck with a jackass like you.” She said as she slapped his ass. 

“Hey paws off the merchandise.” 

“You weren’t saying that a second ago.” She said smugly.  

He turned his head to glare at her. “That was before this dumb thing decided to eat us alive.” He frowned. “Ruined the fucking mood.” He mumbled the last part. 

“Quit being a baby and crawl Brick. I think I’m gonna pass out and you’re closer to the door.” She tried to fan herself. This is the karma she got for making out with her husband in this thing. To be fair, she was making sure it blew up properly and he tackled her, don’t get it twisted. 

“We have powers and yet I am being humiliated by some god damn toy!” She could see the red spark igniting in from his fist.

Buttercup moved again, arm scraping across the bright pink flooring. “You’re the one who got this and unless you wanna tell our daughter why her pony castle is blasted to shreds, you are going to get us out of here or so help me.” 

He mumbled something she couldn't make out and finally his leg was off of her. Thank goodness. He managed to crawl towards the door using one of his arms to hold up the plastic and the other to guide him to freedom. She followed after him making sure he didn’t stop and accidentally slam his ass into her face. 

He reached the door first, eye widening as he stared at the entrance to this horror show. 

“Uh babe?” 

“What?” She still needed to finish cutting the fruit and getting the tables set up. 

“Did you lock us in here?” 

She finally managed to crawl to the door next to him. “Why the fuck would I-.” Her eyes narrowing on the door. “Brick?”

“Yeah.” He raised his brows.

“The zipper.” 

“I know.”

“It’s on the outside.”

“I can see that.” 

“Then why would you ask if I zipped it?” Her voice was full of confusion. 

They looked at each other then back to the door. “If you didn’t zip it.” 

“And you didn’t either.” Buttercup’s eyes widened. 

“Then who?” Their voices were in unison. 

Then they heard it. That sweet innocent giggle. All of a sudden the face of their five year old birthday girl was pressed against the door. Her smile was blinding and those dazzling red eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“We got you mamma and daddy.” She smiled proudly. 

“Blair, honey. Did you unplug the blow up?” Buttercup asked sweetly and she nodded her head, whipping her black hair that was pulling into ponytails. 

“We thought you were napping.” Brick said. His face became scrunched with confusion. “Wait what do you mean we?”

In a flash their daughter was picked up by a pair of arms as she sprouted another laugh. 

“She means me duh.” The voice came and Buttercup tilted her head up to see a wicked grin and a pair of deep emerald eyes. The same devious smirk was plastered on his face. 

Buttercup gritted her teeth. “Butch you have five seconds to let us out or I swear-” 

“Ohh I’m so scared. Look Ruby, mom's mad.” He snickered to the little girl who was trying to hide her own laugh.

“Shes mad at you Uncle Butch, this was your idea.” Blair giggled. 

“Hey don’t rat me out. Tell them it was the wind.” 

Brick glared at him. “Don’t teach my kid how to lie.” 

“You’re right bro, she’ll learn it from the king himself.” He winked. 

Buttercup matched her husband's expression. “Blair, be a good girl and let us out or no cake.” 

Those bright red eyes held fear as the threat of no cake came. She grabbed her uncle’s face, tears brimming her water line. “No cake!” She gasped and flew out of Butch’s arms to the door, pulling desperately on the zipper. “I want my cake!” Blair practically growled and soon her parents were free. 

Buttercup scooped up her little girl and brought her towards the house, meanwhile Brick was just fuming at his younger brother. 

“What the hell man?” 

“That's what you deserve for being nasty.” Butch glared at Brick. 

Brick rolled his eyes and pushed past him to plug it back in. The huge ponies came to life as they began to fill with air. 

“Oh please like you wouldn’t do that same thing.” 

Butch fake scoffed. “I wouldn’t. My wife would be nake-”

“SHUT UP!” 

--

“I’m sorry momma.” Blair smiled softly. “But Uncle Butch made me.” She defended. 

Buttercup only laughed and kissed her head. “I know sweetheart. Now your dad is gonna set your castle up and i'm going to finish up in the kitchen.”

“What should I do?” Blair asked. 

Buttercup looked over at Brick and Butch before grinning. 

---

“I can’t believe you were stuck.” Bubbles laughed as she placed the last of the snacks on the table. 

Buttercup only rolled her eyes before popping a strawberry in her mouth. “Well it’s all your husband’s fault.” 

Another giggle came from the blonde. “Oh I'm sure you’ll find a way to get him back.” She waved her hand before handing a berry to her one year old, Beck.

“Oh I did.” Buttercup laughed and Bubbles shrugged. 

“HEY RUBY PUT ME DOWN!” A shout came from outside and the girls looked to see Butch being held up by his niece. 

She gave a laugh before throwing him down into the pool. A giant splash coming from the water as she turned and skipped towards her dad acting like she had done nothing. 

“See, got him back.” Bubbles said as she watched her husband claw his way out of the pool with a scowl. 

“Serves him right, I almost died.” 

Bubbles picked up her baby carrying him over to the window to see Butch chasing Blair and Brick on the ground laughing. “Well Butch caught you two so he probably wanted to mess with you.” 

“It’s not like we were doing anything! Besides, you two would do way worse, you nasties.” Buttercup made a fake throwing up sound as she watched Blair throw Butch back into the pool. “I should have her throw you in too.” 

Bubbles slapped her arm playfully. “You wouldn’t have your daughter throw a pregnant woman.” She gestured to her baby bump. 

“Like I said, nasty. Butch couldn’t wait five minutes before knocking you up again, geez.” 

Bubbles smirked and opened up the sliding glass door. “Blair darling come through your mother in the pool she’s being mean.” 

“Throw your dad in.” Buttercup yelled as she brought out the cake. “Im busy.” 

They heard another yell and another splash. “And there goes Brick.” Bubbles laughed. 

“That's my girl.”

-------

hope you liked it

[shaekingshitup]

My Type

A/N: I finally did it! There are probably hella typos because the app I was writing this in kept on autcorrecting everything. But I tried to clean em up. I can already think of things I wanna do differently. But i’m just happy that I’m being consistent and doing something. I ACCIDENTALLY PUT IN A “KEEP READING” JUST BEFORE I POSTED THIS. WOW. How did I do that?

Edit: I learned how I put the “Keep Reading” there and I am re-posting because my old blog was trash thanks to staff.

Songs I was listening to try and get me in the mood for this fic are here. But I trust your imagination to feel what a club setting is like. You ain’t gotta press play boo,

Warning: cursing, “the - n word”

Dani was out there givin it her all. She had to because she knew the DJ was gettin ready to spin this Petey Pablo single into her summer anthem. That shit would have her goin nuts in no time.

Hennessy on my lips

“Oh bitch, this is yo shit!” screamed Rachelle, digging in between her breasts to pull out her phone. She always had to take it to the Snap.

Hennessy on my lips

The DJ was messing with them at this point. This was about to be the third time he had teased Dani with the first line of the song. If he kept playin, she was gone have a lot of words for him in the parking lot when his set was over. She hated when they did that shit.

Hennessy on my lips, take a little sip

Privacy on the door, I'ma make the shit grip

Rachelle was hollering, “Ayyyyyy, that’s my best frannnd!” loud enough for damn near everyone in the club’s attention to be drawn to Dani.

As if someone had flipped a switch, Dani started twerkin like her life depended on it. You would have thought she was auditioning to be the lead for City Girls’ Twerk music video. All the ladies were on the floor shaking their asses. But no one was out there throwin it in circles the way Dani was- and she knew it.

Rich nigga, eight-figure, that’s my type

That’s my type, nigga that’s my type

Eight-inch big, ooh, that’s good pipe

Bad bitch, I'ma ride the dick all night

Dani was in a full squat pretending like she really had something or rather someone to ride on the floor with her. She was glad she’d chosen to rock her black romper with the white vertical stripes and the denim jacket to go over it instead of her bodycon dress. If she’d put that on tonight, the fabric would be around her waist at this very moment. Typically, she was so engrossed in her song that she didn’t even take into account the rest of the world. But this time was different. She felt…off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone. Glancing up to the V.I.P. balcony she saw why. There was one fine ass man watching her get down. He was leaning on the guard rail devouring her with his eyes as if she was his personal seven-course meal. Dani couldn’t look away. His gaze was far too intense and he held a beguiling smolder she couldn’t begin to match. Not in public in front of all of these strangers at least.  

The moment the song was over, Dani straightened up and this nigga had the audacity to wink at her as she made her exit from the dance floor. She turned and grabbed Rachelle by the hand so they could re-fuel at the bar. Her Fairy Thot Mother really brought out the best in her. Yet every time the song was over, she needed a moment to recuperate. Sipping her Between the Sheets, Dani had to yell at Rachelle to get her attention again. Her gaze was fixated on the V.I.P level and who she could make out up there.

“Rachelle, are you listening to anything I am saying to your ass?” Dani fussed.

“Danica Albany Jones. Yo ass should know by now that I can multitask better than most can focus on one task for the rest of their lives. I hear you. You had a fine ass nigga scoping you out while you was getting it and now you’re tryna to make your dance floor fantasy a reality,” Rachelle stated still focused on the balcony.

“Fantasy? Nobody said all dat!” she kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes at Rachelle’s antics. She hated when Rachelle listened to her without looking at her. It was rude as hell and even more frustrating when the bitch was able to repeat everything she’d uttered just moments before.

“Got em!” Rachelle shouted turning back to Dani. Trying to play it cool, Dani forced herself to avert her eyes from the balcony and waited for her to clarify. “Damn, I can’t believe he really in her with that trick Trina.” Immediately, Dani slanted her eyes at her about-to-be replaced best friend.

“You really are out here checkin for Shad? I thought you were done messin with his ass?” Dani loved her best friend and she knew she was a woman on a mission. She wanted a man with a bag. She was strategic about it all and not subtle by any means. She could always tell you who was in the V.I.P section and had that shit mapped out like she drew up the damn blueprint herself. She had messed with a few ballers and other money makers. But she was perpetually stuck on stupid with Shad. He didn’t even meet the criteria for her future husband. But, the dude must have made up for what he lacked in height and net worth in the bedroom because Rachelle was rarely able to stay away for long.

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing tonight. Yo scary ass needs to go find yo stalker.” Rachelle shot back. As if she summoned the devil himself, Dani turned her head to his section and saw him eyeing her again. Once he realized he had her attention, he beckoned her up to his section with a slight head tilt towards the bouncer at the V.I.P entrance.

“Did you-“ before she could even get it out, Rachelle was downing the rest of her drink and pulling Dani towards the staircase.

“Just follow me, I know the area.” Rachelle threw over her shoulder as they wove through the crowd. Dani rarely went out- let alone found herself in the V.I.P section of any club so she held on a little tighter to Rachelle’s hand as they approached the bouncer.

“Hey Mike,” Rachelle offered peeping past him to the booth so she could see Shad occupying a smaller booth with Trina sitting on his knee.

“Rachel. How you doin tonight? I see you brought a new friend” Big Mike countered. He knew her name was Rachelle just like she knew his names was Big Mike. So long as she continued to call him out of his name, Big Mike was determined to do the same. Petty sees as petty does.

“Danica” Dani said a she extended her hand and smiled up at Big Mike. Already she’d won him over faster than Rachelle’s ass ever could. Big Mike turned around and verified that there was someone else on the other side of the velvet rope expecting the ladies. When E provided a nod of approval. He let the ladies inside.

Dani had no idea what had come over her. Granted she didn’t go out often, but it wasn’t like she’d never encountered the opposite sex before this evening. Walking up the stairs towards this man was proving to be a more difficult feat than she’d ever imagined as her legs seemed to be gelatinizing with each step she took. Or maybe it was the alcohol. She had consumed a few shots of Henny at this point. Within V.I.P, Dani could see that he had a few booths for him and his people to occupy. Dani couldn’t even begin to take in his mini kingdom he’d established because she was too preoccupied by how good he looked up close. His short dreads were neatly pulled back into a ponytail towards the back of his head and on his frame he adorned a long white tee, an Amiri distressed denim jacket and a black pair of drop crotch jeans that didn’t do well to help her keep her eyes from droppin below his waist line. What distracted Dani the most, was the gold rimmed wire frames he adorned which were quite similar to her own pair. Gold was her favorite color and she loved it even better against some melanin. As she took the final steps to be in his presence, he called out “Hey, lil mama” welcoming her with a partial smile and a glimpse of his golds in the bottom row of throne-er mouth. If it weren’t for Rachelle tugging her around in that very moment she would have surely collapsed into his arms. Instead, as Rachelle turned her around to tell her some final piece of advice she ended up crushing her ass into his hand. Which, may not have been too much of an issue if his white shirt hadn’t taken on the amber brown from his Hennessy as a result.

“Fuck! Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry” Dani began as she stood bug eyed in from of this adonis of a man. He lifted up his shirt to assess the damage and see if it was soaked through thoroughly.

You’ve got to be kidding me. This man can’t be this fine at first glance and have a body like that. How many packs is that? 6? 8? Do they even got a word for that? Damn Dani get it together. You’re staring. Stop staring.

He chuckled. He was bemused by the situation. Nah by her.

Reach for her waist her bent out and growled, “Imma be right back. You and yo girl make yourself comfortable in the back booth,”  as he disappeared down the steps.

“Biiiitttchhh, how drunk are you?” Rachelle asked.

“I only had 1 shot of Henny and that Between the Sheets in the 2 hours we’ve been here. Why?” Dani questioned looking confused as hell. Rachelle should have been saying sorry. It was her fault that Dani’s ass ended up in the stranger’s hand anyways. Rachelle cut her eyes at her friend.

“Because the way you were talking about his body was bold as fuck when you don’t even know his name,” Rachelle cackled. She was low-key proud of her girl.  

“Aww fuck. I said that shit out loud? What kind of friend are you for letting me ramble on like that?!” Dani whisper yelled.

“The kind that’s about to put you on game,” Rachelle quipped back, “Okay so to your left you have the Hip Hop Descendants. These are all of the people who got daddies and mamas in the game. The only reason anyone puts up with them is because they parents are the pioneer of Hip Hop, Rap and everything in between as we know it. Some of em had a single or their own tv show coming up. But, if it wasn’t for their DNA we would all say IDC”

“Wait what about Shad? He’s over there and last time I checked his parents were just regular degular people like you and me,” Dani posed.

“Shad is unique in that he was in the game at a young age and just grew up in the industry,” Rachelle supplied.

“Okay. So Shad is the Aladdin of the Descendants because his parents weren’t present in the Hip Hop industry”

“I won’t even acknowledge that. Moving on, in the middle you have Black By Popular Demand. These are the people who the media thinks are Black purely due to association. These hoes got here because they all know how to suck, ride or have a nigga by they side. In doing so, Hollywood calls them trendsetters rather than Culture Vultures and let’s them act out as they please. We don’t really fuck with them or their crews.”

“Is that a Kardashian?”

“They always got at least one of them in that group. To your right, are your Single Housewives”

“That don’t make sense. How are you a housewife and single?”

“If you would stop interrupting, I would be done with my explanations by know.”

“Okay okay. I’m sorry Janice. Continue please,” that made Rachelle laugh.

“You so stupid. Okay as I was saying on your right are the Single Housewives. Most can be found on a segment which is currently airing on VH1 or trying to secure someone to get them on the network. They may have been a housewife or a girlfriend and some point, but for now they just opportunistic.” Dani keeps her word and doesn’t say anything. But she knew exactly where Rachelle was going to make a beeline for later on in the evening.

“Last but not least, we have the section we are in right now: The Heavy Hitters. The niggas in this section got bank. I’m talking numerous sources of income. Collectively, they could probably wipe out Cali’s debt. And from what I’ve heard, the one who is chosey with you ain’t just got big bank he got a real fat-“

“Y’all ladies good over here?” he said as he returned to his private booth.

“Yes,” they sang in a chorus. Somehow he’d managed to find an even more expensive white tee in the few minutes he’d been gone.

“Cool. We ain’t get to introduce ourselves earlier, I’m Erik,” he said picking up the carafe of Henny and a glass gesturing to Dani and Rachelle.

“I’m Rachelle and I’ll take mine’s to go,” she said extending her hand. She took it, saying her goodbyes and heading straight to the Single Housewives section where she was directly in Shad’s line of sight. She really thought she was slick.

Dani turned to find those eyes roaming her frame for the third time this evening.

“I’m Dani…and I’ll take a lil bit,” she managed to get out as he maintained his contact with her. He never broke it even as he offered her the glass, poured his own and sat down right next to her on the sectional.

“Okay lil bit”

“What’s that mean?”

He smirked. “It means, “he said while placing his hand on her thigh, “you really bout it this evening. Ain’t nothin bout you little. Yo shit match my shit and you won’t take them sexy ass eyes off me. That’s My Type indeed”

[alewyren]

tumblr is dead but I’m gonna post my thoughts on Inuyasha here too for archiving purposes. cw for (non-detailed) discussion of sexual assault and suicide wrt kikyo

OKAY. SO. MY THOUGHTS ON INUYASHA. warning for some INCREDIBLY hot takes.

it. sure was a journey. I am not sure if I liked the series overall or not. It had some legit good/touching moments, but it dragged SO LONG and there were a lot of things I thought could've been handled better. But it was fun liveblogging it for sure. And I got NarKik out of it, which snapped me out of my year-long creative dry spell, so it was at least a net positive time investment LMFAO.

I liked... mmmmost of the characters? sango, sesshoumaru, kagura, kanna, naraku, kohaku, K I K Y O, and even kagome were all Good. On the flipside, Inuyasha himself is FUCKING TERRIBLE and he sucks and I hate him. Emotional immaturity ain't cute, he gets everything handed to him on a silver platter, rarely apologizes for being a selfish prick, and the other characters are WAY too forgiving of his bullshit. I got tired of the tsundere het romance cliches between him and Kagome pretty fast, as well as how often he was jealous of her. Like, Kagome's insecurities over Kikyo I can legit understand (despite being #1 Kikyo Fucker). But whenever she's so much as civil with Kouga and Inuyasha's all HANDS OFF MY WOMAN I'm like... dude shut up you two-timing hypocrite. If You Like It Then You Should’ve Put A Ring On It. Credit where credit is due tho, they did chill out over time and some of their moments together towards the end of the series were legit sweet. I'm pretty meh on Inukag overall, and iffy on the resolution of her moving to his era permanently, but that last panel of him greeting her as she came out of the well gave me a Feel.

(Actually, on that note, it... would have been legit kind of hella if the series had ended with Inuyasha himself permanently moving to the modern era? Aside from their friends he had far fewer attachments in his world than she did hers, and there's so much more potential with him having to adapt to the modern era, lol. ALTERNATIVELY, kikyo lives and she switches places with kagome and makes a new life for herself in the modern era. thus letting her truly live as a normal girl. But I'll Get To Kikyo Later. smh)

The premise of the series is actually pretty strong, though of course you can poke holes in it. To my knowledge it was the first isekai anime that really took off, and the driving plot of collecting the Shikon fragments is excellent monster of the week material (though I'm not really a monster of the week fan myself). Also, youkai are awesome. Focusing the series on real-world mythology makes my Shin Megami Tensei heart very excited.

I know the series runs on emotion rather than logic, but I REALLY have some questions here. The fact that the well is explicitly stated to take Kagome back in time rather than to another world makes no sense at all. First of all, where are all the youkai in the present day? Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru are at least a couple hundred years old, right? What happened to them in that 500 year timespan? Surely some creature or another from the series would have naturally survived that long. So what happened? Was there a mass-youkai extinction somewhere along the line? Shouldn't this be cause for concern? Also, do Kagome's time-traveling actions create a stable time loop or a branching timeline? If Naraku won in the past, how would that affect the present? The two eras are just completely isolated from each other and I really don't get it. That kind of stuff. Yeah yeah I know MST3K mantra and all but MAN this bothers me.

Which brings me to Exhibit A of stuff I think should have gone differently: Kagome should have stayed the protagonist, and the modern era should have gotten more focus. Not as in her day-to-day school shenanigans, but stuff touching on the questions listed above. There's just a lot of untapped potential regarding How This Shit Works, rather than confining the story pretty much entirely to the Sengoku Jidai With Youkai. Also there could be plenty of shenanigans with characters OTHER than Kagome and Inuyasha hanging out in the present. LIKE KIKYO. okay yeah my kikyo bias is showing but it would be the perfect opportunity to 1. hide her from naraku (unless he found a way into the present, but that just ties into my previous point), 2. develop her friendship with Kagome. Which would have done both of them wonders. BUT I'LL GET TO KIKYO LATER. (I'm dying imagining Kagome introducing Kikyo to her schoolmates as her cousin and taking her shopping though..... teaching her how to ordinary human... like..... HHH.)

Anyway, Kagome as the protagonist. She was very much the protagonist at the start of the series--she took a more active role in a lot of the monster of the week conflicts, and just had a lot more focus and screentime in general. Then Inuyasha got his sword upgrades and her role in conflicts became reduced to sensing Shikon fragments and occasional use of arrows. It took until the last hundred chapters for her to get ANY sort of substantial power-up, and it felt... unearned? I had been looking forward to her developing her miko powers alongside Inuyasha's youkai powers, and getting bow upgrades to match his Tessaiga upgrades, but it just... didn't happen. Her miko powers having been sealed all along felt like an ass pull, and I wasn't really a fan of the test of character she had to go through in order to get the fancy bow upgrade being solely focused on overcoming her feelings of jealousy towards Kikyo... again... like it's valid for her to feel that way but we've been here already! Surely there's more to her character than this! I think it would've been awesome if she actually got some fights of her own too, and maybe Kaede and eventually Kikyo mentoring her growth as a miko? But as far as canon went, it just felt like she got shallower and less interesting over time as Inuyasha slowly took over the protagonist role and that was a damn shame. Let Kagome be the plucky isekai protagonist she was always meant to be! This, of course, ties in with my assertion that the modern era should have gotten more focus too.

okay, so. it's time. kikyo. Kikyo. I fucking LOVE kikyo, absolutely my fave chara, I was not expecting to love Kikyo this much lmao. All that ship war propaganda was a big fat lie. She has an ASTONISHINGLY mature narrative about the effect of tragedy and trauma on people and relationships, but it was SO under-utilized and shafted in favor of the Love Triangle and Inuyasha's Manpain and I'm FUCKING UPSET. Kikyo was (or at least had the makings to be) the best character in Inuyasha but she was not done justice at all, in this essay I

Like, sit down and think about it. Here we have a woman who lost her parents at a young age, taking on the responsibilities of her household, and training to be a miko on top of it--which in the world of Inuyasha is a very emotionally demanding position that requires her to basically devote her entire life to her duties, ESPECIALLY once she's entrusted with the Shikon Jewel. All while being required to live a life of asceticism and suppressing worldly desires. In short, she basically never had a chance to actually, like. Live. Keep in mind that she was a child/teenager throughout all this (she was 17/18 when she died). That's a LOT of pressure on someone that young.

At this point, she's understandably lonely and depressed, and then along comes Inuyasha. She falls in love with him, gets a taste of a life that would truly make her happy, and has it ripped away. Like, there's some really fucking dark subtext to the whole Onigumo plot. She shows kindness to a random stranger, who proceeds to make a deal with the devil to LITERALLY RAPE HER, and her life is ruined as a result. No, Kikyo wasn't literally raped in canon, because even though Onigumo wanted to rape her Naraku's intentions towards her were... more complicated if still incredibly fucked up, but good lord the subtext is THERE. And as a result of the ensuing incident, believing Inuyasha betrayed her, she straight up KILLS HERSELF. Yes, it was partly to protect the Shikon Jewel, but she did not want to come back to life. Let that sink in. Kikyo was driven to suicide by an incident incited by a man who took advantage of her kindness in order to rape her. (nostalgia critic voice) FAMILY PICTURE!

I'm not gonna pretend Kikyo was the only victim here, though. Inuyasha has pretty clear PTSD from the event too, even after learning Kikyo is innocent. But through his relationship with Kagome, he begins to heal and move on. Then Kikyo gets brought back as a clay zombie, fucks up his whole grieving process, kickstarts the love triangle, you know the story. Kikyo's perspective is actually really interesting to dig into though. She didn't want to be brought back. She's PISSED. Even when the dust settles and she learns that Inuyasha is innocent, the anger and trauma have changed her. She's got a good ol' dose of PTSD herself. She's colder, harsher, engages in risky/self-destructive behavior, and distances herself from her loved ones. Like, think about it. Was there any logical reason she had to separate from Inuyasha and his group to fight Naraku on her own? To keep them in the dark about why she surrendered the Shikon Jewel to Naraku? No. That's a character flaw on HER part. And all this puts real strain on her relationship with Inuyasha. They still love each other, but their mutual trauma has completely changed their dynamic. Their love is based on their past relationship rather than their present chemistry. They don't make each other happy anymore. Neither of them are at fault for that. That's REAL AS FUCK. That's what trauma DOES to people and relationships.

So, yes, I'm a hardcore Kikyo stan who supports InuKag over InuKik. We exist. InuKik does not work as a relationship in the present because they've both changed due to trauma and that's the GODDAMN POINT. It's not a story about true love, it's a story about moving on from first love. The problem is that Kikyo's character is largely confined to her role as a love rival to Kagome. Inuyasha's side of the InuKik narrative, of letting go of the past and healing, is resolved. Kikyo's is not. And boy, I was ABSOLUTELY FUCKING LIVID that the love triangle was resolved through Kikyo's death rather than Inuyasha just... fucking, PICKING KAGOME OVER KIKYO BEFOREHAND RATHER THAN HER NEEDING TO DIE. She can still die after that! I swear, I'm not just salty because my fave died. At least 70% of my favorite charas are dead. I literally don't care anymore. I'm mad that she was killed off in a way that reduced her to being Inuyasha's Woman rather than getting a chance to heal and grow apart from him, as he did from her. And this in turn cheapens the narrative around why InuKik doesn't work as a present relationship to begin with, because he never actually picks present love over past love! He just keeps committing emotional infidelity until Kikyo gets killed off to wrap things up in a neat little bow with no character growth on his part! This shit is why I hate Inuyasha (the character).

Kagome's kindness towards Kikyo also plays a part in why she softens up by the end, yes, but that kindness is entirely depicted as "I want to save her because she's important to Inuyasha and I love Inuyasha." Kagome's character growth in these moments hinges on her picking love over jealousy, NOT through actually bonding with Kikyo. On top of that, Kikyo saving Kohaku over defeating Naraku struck me as out of character (have to show she's not a bad person after all? which she isn't, but still). It definitely made her death feel even more pointless. How come Kohaku gets to live and not her!!! Seriously, the fact that Kohaku gets to live and Kikyo doesn't REALLY rubs me the wrong way. She barely even knew Kohaku! He was willing to die to defeat Naraku! NOT killing Kohaku to defeat Naraku almost cost MORE lives! It could've been a poignant resolution to her character arc, but there wasn't enough buildup for it to be a convincing decision for her to make.

And oh my god, there's SO much wasted potential here. Kikyo's resentment towards Kagome is super understandable, and it's never really explored. Kagome replaced her. Kagome is filling the role she should have filled. What's even left for her except her hatred of Naraku? She asserts that Inuyasha cannot forget her (her being lowkey possessive of him is *chef kiss* my wife is a bitch and I like her so much), and he doesn't, but she still straight up tries to kill Kagome lmao. Like I said they do reconcile, but it's kinda half-assed. Kikyo's feelings are never explored in-depth. She's never truly given a chance to heal and realize that she does have a place in the world beyond her decaying relationship with Inuyasha and hatred for Naraku. That her scarred, flawed existence is still just as fucking valid as Kohaku or Rin or Jaken being able to live after being brought back from the dead. Like lemme stress again that the girl experienced INTENSE trauma and COMMITTED SUICIDE. The notion that she's the only one who needs to die in order to restore the natural order, that her death is beautiful and tragic but necessary, is..... gross, tbh. :U

Like, she can still die, lmao. IMO it'd be legitimately more interesting if she lived, if she had an opportunity to carve a place for herself outside of Kagome like Kagome did Kikyo, but it IS possible for her to die without it making ME want to die. Just resolve the love triangle shit first, flesh out some of her relationships outside of Inuyasha himself (ESPECIALLY Kagome), show her healing and softening, and then she can die protecting everyone or some shit. That would've been fine. But No. She just gets killed off for the service of Inuyasha's character, so he can hook up with Kagome guilt-free, with NONE of this addressed. Because it's more palatable for a woman to be dead than broken up with, I guess? I Hate It Here, You Guys.

her (near) last words being "I've finally become an ordinary woman" rubbed me the wrong way too... it like, tried to wrap her character arc up in a neat little bow while ALSO entirely confining its resolution to being Inuyasha's Woman and discarding the narrative of trauma driving them apart. I love the narrative of the girl forced to be inhuman who just wants to be normal. This just felt like... a really cheap way to go about doing that, at the disservice of her character being about OLD love, for a forced (and false) sense of closure. Didn't like it. God fucking damn, typing it all out just made me even MORE pissed off.

tl;dr: kikyo had the makings of an amazing trauma survivor narrative but it got shafted. she deserved everything. thank you for coming to my TED talk.

SIGH. okay. there are other characters I wanna touch on too. Uhhh I actually thought Naraku was pretty cool, though he became way less interesting after Mt Hakurei (for the most part--he was cool again during the direct lead-up to Kikyo's death as well as the final battle). His identity crisis was pretty neat, as was the way he specifically targeted other people's emotions and relationships as a way to compensate for his own utter lack of a sense of self. Not to mention the cold, detached way he regards his own emotions ("my pp stands up whenever i look at kikyo, wish it wouldn't do that :/") and how this leads him to succumb to the influence of the Shikon Jewel, in contrast to Inuyasha and Kagome breaking the cycle. His lack of motivation is actually kind of the point, and I think it's neat as hell! Things got boring once The Baby entered the picture, and I got the sense Rumiko wasn't really sure what to do with Naraku for a while. His style of villainy got a lot more distant and "just as keikaku," when it was the way he got up in everyone's business and pushed their buttons for his own shallow amusement that made me like him in the first place. His fragments aside from Kagura and eventually Kanna were way less interesting, and I think it would've been neat to go more into his role as basically being an abusive dad, but it's fine. The Baby was a fucking boring and atrocious villain though, jfc. The /idea/ of Naraku's own heart rebelling against him was cool enough, but it means jack shit when The Baby is just a bland-ass villain who doesn't remotely represent the character traits that make up Naraku's "heart" in the first place, even aside from Kikyo.

Speaking of which, his fixation on Kikyo is a LOT of fun. Their interactions (which he was apparently secretly into), how he rejected his own humanity and destroyed both himself and the object of his desires, etc. Which is another reason he got less fun after Mt. Hakurei tbh. I fucking hate the way Kikyo's death was handled overall but I liked that he had to reclaim his human heart in order to overwhelm and kill her. That was neat. Something something toxic desire destroying both yourself and the person it's directed at. Then at the very end he realized that his entire existence was completely pointless and empty and his complicated feelings towards Kikyo were the only thing that ever made him actually, like, give a shit. Pour one out for this absolute dumbass. He's a relatable villain because I too would go to absolutely insane lengths to get over a girl I never even dated.

Uhh who else. Sango and Miroku. Sango was my favorite character in the main party. She's the most level-headed of the bunch, has a super cute design, and her story with Kohaku was responsible for a lot of the emotional moments in the series that really landed for me. Her friendship with Kagome was actually super cute and heartfelt. That scene early on where she broke down crying in Kagome's lap because she was scared of being alone again HURT. Also, Kirara is fucking precious. Miroku I've got mixed feelings about, since on the one hand he's a legitimately interesting character and some of his scenes with Sango did hit fairly hard, but DEAR GOD I hate the quirky pervert trope with a burning passion. If it were played seriously, I'd stan him to hell and back a la Adachi. But it isn't, so it's not. I've got mixed feelings about MirSan too. Their resolution was really sweet, but I was kinda like "wha" when Kagome said Sango had a thing for Miroku in the first place. Like, sure okay, but I think more time should've been spent showing her falling for him in the first place lol. Also the butt-grabbing joke got old fast. And when he proposed to her and basically refused to stop flirting with other women I facepalmed so hard. Can't have character growth when you have unfunny running gags! To his credit, he did chill out for the most part, but still kept making jokes about flirting/scoring that clearly made Sango unhappy and I'm like. Why. Then the bit with Hirai-Kotsu needing to be fixed. I liked their mutual resolve to protect each other, but I thought Sango's comment about how she couldn't live without him was..... a bit much. Like what about Kohaku??? But anyway I'm just glad Sango got a happy ending even if I'm still super *SQUINTS* at Miroku.

Sesshoumaru was pretty neat, I get why he's popular, though wasn't really My Type. Sure he's cool, but his /personality/ was a bit lacking and I think we should have gotten some more insight into his relationship with his father for how much focus his quest for the Best Sword got. His development was pretty good, but I've kind of got an issue with how Rin was more of a plot device than a character. Like, okay, one of the reasons I decided to start reading Inuyasha was because the announcement of Yashahime sparked a wave of Sessh/Rin discourse and I wanted to form my own take on it. And, yeah okay I don't like Sessh/Rin either and I say this as a certified Nasty, lmao. Less because it's problematic (though I find it kind of offputting myself, even aged-up) and more because it's bland. Rin has no character whatsoever outside of being a vehicle for his development and I'm REALLY not a fan of girls being objects for male charas' development. Still, I'm not gonna boycott Yashahime if Sessh/Rin is canon or anything. I prefer him with Kagura or even Kikyo but they're dead, so. If Rin has to be his cum dumpster to make this happen, then that's how it's gotta be.

Thats about it I think. I'd put it a rung or two above Naruto in terms of overall quality, but BOY am I still mad abt Kikyo. 6/10 probably wouldn't recommend, but it WAS fun.

[starker-stories]

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 3

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

Just because I suck and I can... @starker-stories the writer formerly known as ;) starkerstories. Here I am. 

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “Russian naming convention. Natalia Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. Or Ms. Widow, to you kid.” Bucky grinned. “She’ll die when I tell her that.” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 3:  Colonel Flappy-coat

“You shouldn’t let me make you miss so much class,” Tony said, rolling over and nuzzling the spot behind Peter’s ear.

“You’re lucky I don’t take advantage of the fact that while we’re still not completely out about our relationship, every one of my professors knows that I’m Iron Man’s boyfriend. Because Tony fucking Stark told them as he signed the checks to fund their departments.”

Tony laughed. “What’s the point of being a billionaire if you can’t embarrass your boyfriend with it? As soon as you’re legal…”

“I’m legal now, Tony.”

“…in all fifty states, I will be more than happy to sing it from the roof of my tower that you are my beautiful boyfriend who puts up with far more from me than he should ever have to.”

“Do you think Bucky’s okay up at HQ?” Peter asked.

Tony brought out his phone and checked. “Company helicopter picked him up here, he flew himself there, he’s been in with Fury for almost three hours. So, no, he’s not okay. He’s been in a room with Nick Fury for three hours.”

“We should pick him up.”

“The helicopter’s there with him. We could take mine, though. Leave the other to self-pilot home.”

“I thought yours was the only one that could…” Peter rolled his eyes when he saw the way Tony was looking at him. “Can you not tinker with anything that comes within a thousand yards of you?” he asked rhetorically, giggling.

“Nope. Impossible. Didn’t you hear the story about how I upgraded a reporter’s phone just by glaring at it one day?”

“That was awesome. There’s evidence!”

“Of course there is. Who do you think ’shopped the evidence?”

“FRIDAY,” Peter said confidently. “You are the laziest computer genius in the world.”

“FRIDAY does things she can do; I do things she can’t. A more effective use of my time. Which leaves me more time to do this…”

“Not if we’re going to pick Bucky up from HQ,” Peter said, putting his hand up between them.

“Why am I doing that instead of fucking my beautiful boyfriend?”

“Because we’re rescuing him from Nick Fury.”

Tony sighed. “You had to go invoke that name and kill the mood. All right.”

~~~~~

“Do I have your attention, Sergeant Barnes?” Nick Fury asked, noticing Bucky staring out the window.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. The helicopter I flew here in just lifted off. Without a pilot.”

“You get used to that sort of thing when Stark’s around.”

“He’s not around though.”

“If his helicopter just took off, he will be. Now, about Korea… Would you mind not gawping at every technological wonder Stark pulls out of his ass? His ego doesn’t need the polish,” Fury said.

Bucky gawped at the larger helicopter landing, also pilotless. That time he saw Peter and Tony get out of the passenger area though. He smiled.

“I can see that we’re done for the day.”

“Sorry sir.”

“Go on,” Fury said disgusted at Bucky’s distraction.

“They think they’re fooling people,” he muttered under his breath as he stood, watching Tony and Peter head toward the main door.

“No,” Bucky said, smiling. “They just don’t give a fuck.”

~~~~~

“I’ll be back in a minute, baby,” Tony said, putting a kiss on Peter’s head when they met Bucky in the entrance.

“You look like you needed rescuing,” Peter said smiling. He took Bucky’s hand and held it briefly. “How are you holding up?”

“It’s fine. What I expected. More pleasant, actually.”

“With Nick Fury?” Peter said disbelieving.

“He’s professional. Calm. There’s an obvious agenda, but it’s obvious. He has a less obvious agenda naturally, but it’s obvious as well. I see why Tony insisted he handle my debrief.”

“Tony says Fury scares the shit out of him.”

Bucky chuckled. “You believe him?”

“Of course not,” Peter said. “But I let him think I do.” He paused. “I know the things that scare him.”

“I’m one of those things,” Bucky said.

Peter nodded. “He doesn’t want you to be though. I believe him on that.”

“Everyone here knows you’re together,” Bucky said, changing the subject.

“We’re not exactly subtle,” Peter giggled.

“I thought you were trying to keep your relationship quiet.”

“From the press. I’m still not legal age in a lot of states. If it got out of the small circle of people — Avengers, Tony’s personal staff, our friends and family — it… wouldn’t be great,” Peter said understating it. “When I turn eighteen, we’ll come completely out then. People will still talk and everyone will know that we started before. But there’ll be nothing that can be done about it.” He looked at Bucky sideways. “It doesn’t bother you? It bothers everyone. Even people who are our friends.”

“Peter, with my past… Is he hurting you? No. All right. Then he’s already a million miles above things that I have done to people younger than you.”

“Not you.”

Bucky sighed. “Maybe not, but my body did them.”

“Do you want to talk to someone about it?” Peter asked gently.

“Like a head shrinker?” Bucky scoffed. “What shrink is going to understand me?”

“Yeah. I get it. Hi. I can lift seventy tons and not break a sweat. I can literally feel my broken bones knitting back together. And I have trouble sleeping.”

Bucky laughed. “We’re not exactly couch material, any of us in this building, I don’t think.”

“This is true. There are some in the medical department here that try, but… even if they’re in on the whole secret identity thing, they just don’t know. And that’s just dealing with the superhero part. Not the whole… I was a secret assassin whose brain got regularly put into a blender for seventy years. Oh! I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” Bucky said, trying to keep from laughing so hard. “You should’ve. You definitely should’ve. You have no idea what it’s like when everyone around you is tiptoeing around…” He caught Peter grinning. “Of course you know. All three of us know.”

He paused for a long time. “You know, Tony’s right. You do got some wisdom about you, kid.”

“What this time?” Peter said smiling softly. It was something he and Tony knew, but no one else understood. Age didn’t have anything to do with it. They understood each other. There were things Tony understood and Peter didn’t. There were things Peter understood and Tony didn’t. And there were things they both understood. Age was experiences and maturity. Age had nothing to do with understanding.

“What you told me last night. Comparing… pain. The number of pains doesn’t matter, really. Because when you’re in the middle of one… it’s just as bad as the other guy’s is. No matter what the count. Counting just makes you hate yourself. Either you don’t think you have the right to feel that way because others have it worse…” Peter sighed and nodded. “…Or the weight of it is…” Bucky closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked at the ceiling before looking at Peter again. “…It’s incomprehensible. When you start comparing, the spiral of hating yourself never ends.”

Peter reached across on the bench they were sharing and touched his fingertips to Bucky’s metal ones. Bucky started to pull away. Peter put his whole hand over the back of Bucky’s.

“People don’t touch me there,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

“It frightens them.”

“Huh. Really?”

“I suppose.”

“Can you feel it?”

Bucky tilted his head to the side and looked at Peter.

“Can you?” Peter asked again.

“No one’s ever asked. Not even Steve.”

“Really?” Peter’s eyes went wide. “Well, can you?”

Bucky nodded. “It’s not the same though.”

“I wouldn’t think so. The neural net would have to be totally different. Even this one that you got in Wakanda, it can’t interface with what isn’t there. It has to interface through the nerves of your shoulder… It does interface there, right?” Peter asked.

Bucky nodded. “Through my shoulder.”

“Tony’s latest suit that he's working on will interface directly to his mind. He'll think ‘do something’ and it will. Nerves don’t have to be there.”

Bucky paused. “How do you know how my arm works?”

“Data mining. Tony backdoored into Fury’s system, like, ages ago. JARVIS ran the program.”

“JARVIS is Vision now.”

“Uh… yeah mostly. Anyway, Tony got everything. What he didn’t was in the files Ms. Widow released…”

Bucky laughed quietly. “Ms. Widow? Does Romanova know you call her that?”

“No. I haven’t seen her since Berlin. It just didn’t seem right for me to call her…” Peter smiled. “She’s amazing and so… Wait. Romanova? I thought it was Romanoff.”

“Russian naming convention. Natalia Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. Or Ms. Widow, to you kid.” Bucky grinned. “She’ll die when I tell her that.”

“You know her? I mean… Yeah, of course… It just sounded…”

“I was her weapons trainer in Russia,” Bucky explained. “We went on missions together. Another me, another her.”

“Anyway,” Peter changed the subject, “whatever Fury knows, Tony knows, which means FRIDAY knows, which means Tony thinks I don’t know, except I think he really does know that I know…”

“Planning on coming round to your point anytime soon, Pete?”

“Fuck. How long has he been there?” Peter asked Bucky.

“Long enough to know that FRIDAY and I need to have a talk about you,” Tony said.

“Yeah, but what are you going to do about JARVIS’ air-gapped source matrix who tells me how to break into FRIDAY?”

“Will you shut the hell up, kid?” Tony said in a warning whisper. “Did you not just see Mr. Flappy-coat walk by here a few moments ago?”

“Wouldn’t that be Colonel Flappy-coat?” Bucky asked.

“Hush. Say his name three times and he appears,” Peter warned.

“That would be Beetlejuice, Parker,” Fury said. “Barnes? Ten a.m. tomorrow morning. I have business elsewhere, Hill will handle your next debrief.”

“Yes sir,” Bucky said, standing.

“Jesus fucking Christ, pretty, if you salute him…”

Fury raised his eyebrow at Tony’s nickname for Barnes.

“You don’t salute a retired officer in civilian clothes, Tony.”

“But standing’s a nice touch,” Fury said as he and his flappy-coat left the building.

~~~~~

Bucky started to climb into the cockpit of the helicopter.

“Flies itself,” Tony said. “Unless you’re particularly in the mood,” he added with a shrug.

“Habit,” Bucky said sheepishly and climbed into the passenger compartment with Tony and Peter.

They sat in awkward silence until Bucky finally broke it. “Will you be reviewing everything I say to Fury?”

“Directly? No. FRIDAY will be. I don’t really care if you killed JFK or if that’s a rumor.”

“Not a rumor,” Bucky said, staring out the window.

“So?” Tony said dismissively. “There are things she knows I’m interested in. Anything to do with Stark. Anything to do with the Avengers or enhanced individuals. A bit of financial data here and there.” Peter looked at him sideways. Tony shrugged. “All that,” he said, nodding towards the Avengers compound shrinking in the distance, “doesn’t pay for itself. It’s only insider trading if you get caught. I don’t.”

“About Steve?”

“I could lie, but I don’t. Yes, about Rogers. Past and present. Do I care about his current location? I care more about what happened on the Grassy Knoll. But I will not be blindsided by him again. I stopped giving a damn about him when he left me for dead in Siberia.”

“We left you. You were alive.”

“Only one of you was walking under his own steam. You went where he brought you. Away from me, which was sensible at the time. But this?” Tony tapped his arc reactor. “Not a fuckin’ night light. The shield cracked through the suit’s RT, through the sapphire-glass, and left the coils damaged. FRIDAY was busy trying to decide which was more important, keeping my heart functioning or keeping me from dying of hypothermia.” Tony’s anger and voice rose as he spoke.

“I didn’t know,” Peter gasped. “You were fine when you brought me home from Berlin.”

“I called a new suit with a replacement arc reactor. Which drained the shattered one in me more. But even at Mach 7, it takes over an hour to get from New York to Siberia. Long time to be lying there at sub-zero while your heart is deciding whether or not it wants to keep going for a little while longer. Not that Rogers gave a damn.”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky said, repeating Peter. “Steve said you had it removed.”

“I did. Steve also knew that I had to have it put back when smaller pieces of shrapnel started moving, broken off when Doctor Wu removed the larger ones. He was very aware of what an attack here,” Tony touched the arc again, “would do.”

“I was trying to power down your suit,” Bucky said quietly. “Not kill you.”

“From my perspective, it looked like you were. Rogers could’ve told you. He could’ve told us both a lot of things. He didn’t. So yeah… I’m going to be picking your debrief over for things about him.” Tony took several steadying breaths and tried to hide the fact that his hand dropped to the seat, seeking Peter’s. Which it found.

“I’m not going after him, Bucky. He can stay gone. If he walks through those doors?” He nodded again in the direction of the compound, which had faded from sight. “I’m not sure I can operate under his command. That’s disingenuous. I’m sure I can’t operate under his command. I’ll go back to being a consultant to the Avengers and to being Iron Man. Two very separate things.

“Things are complicated. I don’t want them to be, but they are. I have issues over who you are and… who you’re not. You’ve got issues over me and Rogers about this. It’s not going to resolve in a day or two. I know that. But the fact that you’re sitting here, of all places?” Tony nodded. “It’s a hell of a lot more responsibility for… things… than he’s taken. I can respect that.”

“That you opened the elevator door given everything… I can respect that as well.”

“That’s something to start from,” Tony said.

“And it always ends with what are you going to feed me?” Peter said. “Spider metabolism, remember? We slept in. No breakfast. We flew upstate. No lunch. Are you trying to starve me?”

“I’ll cook. You have an entire grocery store in your cupboards, Tony,” Bucky said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“The Depression was almost a century ago.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“For some people in this helicopter it was about fifteen years ago. I’ll cook.”

“Billionaire, remember? I’ll order in.”

“What do you do with the food in your house?”

“He mostly burns it,” Peter cheerfully offered.

[all1e23]

Heart & Soul [Pt. 2]

Character: As Black as Night

Pairings: Bucky & Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Violence. 

Summary: Bucky has to find a way to his mate, and Y/n wants to stay as far away from Alphas as she can, but it turns out she may need one after all.

A/N: Did I mention this was going to be a slow burn? Whelp, it is.  ***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Thanks!***

A week had passed and no progress had been made. Seven brutally painful days since Bucky had caught her scent and it was all he could think about. At work, in his studio apartment that now seemed cold and empty. He went out for drinks with Steve and nothing quenched his thirst. Early mornings at the gym with Sam were a wasted effort. No matter what he had going on, he couldn’t get her off his mind. Every day that passed without her drove him closer to snapping. His inner Alpha was itching to see the Omega that was haunting his every moment. By the end of the week, he has begun to go a little crazy whenever he caught anything that had a hint of cinnamon in it.

Two days prior, Sam started sprinkling cinnamon in his coffee simply to be a jerk -- that was until Bucky had knocked the cup out of his hand in their squad car, right down the front of his pants as they rolled up to a crime scene.

Sam hasn’t done it since.

Steve never brought her up even though they knew he plenty about her, but it also meant that for once he stopped talking about Bucky’s need to settle down with an Omega. Only this was the one time Bucky wanted to talk about it. He wanted to talk about her. Bucky wanted to talk about a future with her because all Bucky saw when he envisioned his future, was her. He had to get to know her. He knew it was crazy. 

Bucky knew how it sounded, and he didn’t care.

Everyone has heard the stories when true mates meet. He saw it when Tony joined the force. Steve couldn’t form a single sentence, and they just stared at each other like a pair of idiots. Nat had wrapped her arm around Tony to show him around the station, and Steve growled at her so loud the entire station took notice. The pair were mated within a week of meeting, and they both said the same thing, I knew it the second I caught his scent. Bucky didn’t need to see her face to know the truth. He knew she was meant to be his, and he hated how much he sounded like a stereotypical Alpha right now.

He can’t help it.

She’s meant to be his. 

Bucky pressed Steve all week, begging Steve to tell him where he could find her, but Steve wouldn’t break her trust like that. He hated seeing his best friend so defeated but if Bucky wanted a chance with her showing up at her place of work wasn’t going to make that happen. She was still scared of almost every Alpha she met and would only deal with Alphas on a necessary basis. Bucky needed to take a different approach, and Steve would do everything he could to keep her from feeling unsafe.

After everything she had been through she deserved that from him, at the very least. Not to mention the harm it would bring to Steve's bond with his Omega. Tony would never forgive him for breaking her trust, and he wouldn’t damage his relationship with his Omega for anyone.

Not even for Bucky.

Bucky was sitting at his desk slumped down as much as his big body could, legs spread wide pushing himself back and forth in his chair with a full-on pout on his face. He had been unsuccessful in finding her without help from his so-called friends, and she had not come back into the station -- at least not while Bucky had been on shift. He was losing hope he would ever be able to find her again and even if Bucky did find her, how the hell would he convince her that he was different?

How would ever convince her that she was his and he was hers, only hers?

Sam looked over at his partner and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Man, sit up. You’re a grown-ass Alpha, and you’re pouting like a pup.” He leaned over and kicked the back of his chair, rolling Bucky into the side of his desk making the Alpha groan in pain. Bucky cursed under his breath as his knees hit his desk drawer. He spun his chair around to face the culprit and narrowed his eyes at his partner’s snickering. 

“Hey, I got an idea,” Bucky said with a snide smirk. “Why don’t you kiss my ass?”

The bickering carried through the station and into the Captain’s office. They always got a little stir crazy without an active case, and it was starting to drive Steve nuts. He groaned from his office and threw his head back against his chair as their loud mouths continued on. 

He has had just about enough. 

“Barnes! Wilson! Get your asses on patrol before I put you back on traffic,” Steve snapped.

The grumbling Alpha stood slowly, and Sam leaned forward, punching Bucky as hard as he could in the shoulder. “See what you did? Your pouty ass gettin’ us in trouble.”

Bucky grabbed his badge from atop his desk and slipped it over his neck. “I’m not the one running my mouth, and you better watch it, or I’m gonna lay you out at Cap’s barbeque this weekend.”

“Oh, you writin’ checks you can’t cash, Barnes?”

Bucky scoffed at the thought as if he couldn’t handle an Alpha like Sam Wilson? Please! He could lay him out and barely lift a finger!

“Oh, you bet your ass I can cash that--" Bucky didn’t need to catch her scent this time. He could feel her long before her scent started to surround him. He turned around and his lungs deflated, heart stalled just from the sight of her. 

She was finally back.

Damn, she was beautiful. Way more beautiful than anything Bucky could have pictured.

Y/n smiled nervously at the young Beta officer at the front desk and he nearly hit his knees from the sound of her honeyed voice whispering, “Hi, um, I am here to see Detective Stark? Or, I guess Stark-Rogers?” 

She was still fairly shocked Steve hadn’t made Tony change his name completely, but the Stark name was very prestigious, and any Alpha would be stupid not to use that to their advantage. Although, she doubted Steve would take advantage of Tony like that. Steve only cared that Tony was safe and Happy, she doubted he even realized what being bonded to a Stark meant to everyone outside their bond.

Tony was lucky to have an Alpha that only cared for his happiness. Not everyone was that lucky. Of course, she was happy for her friend, but there was a part of her that longed for someone to love her like that. 

It wasn’t something she would be granted in this lifetime.

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off her as she spoke with the officer. She had the sweetest voice Bucky has ever heard, and he could have sworn his heart stopped every time she spoke. He took a step towards her, and a large hand landed on his shoulder pulling him back, keeping him in place and holding him back from getting to her. The tiniest hint of red burns into his eyes as he turned to face who was holding him back.

Steve.

Of course, it was fucking Steve.

“No. Buck, she is scared of Alphas. I’m talking terrified, chasing after her isn’t the way to make it happen. If she’s yours, everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Our job is to make her feel safe.” 

Bucky yanked his shoulder free from the taller Alpha’s grasp, but nodded his understanding -- not his agreement because he did not agree with Steve this time. He took a deep and closed his eyes, willing his eyes to return to their soft blue hue. Somewhere deep down, he knew Steve was trying to help, but damn if it didn’t kill him to be kept from her -- it was deep, deep down. 

He watched as Tony strolled up and hauled her into a dramatic hug, jiggling back and forth before releasing her. He placed his hand on her lower back and guided her through the station into a private office, no doubt to meet with the Pepper Potts about her case. Tony leaned in close and whispered something in her ear and Bucky hated it.

Gods, did he hate it more than he’s ever hated anything. 

He has never been a possessive Alpha, but with her and after everything, she has been through he wanted to be. Bucky wanted to give her everything she could ever want and take whatever measures he needed to so she felt secure.  

Bucky wanted to be the one to make her feel safe, happy, and loved.

Y/n giggled at something Tony said, and her sweet giggle filled the silence of the station, making Bucky’s heart flip in his chest. Bucky would give anything to be the one making her giggle like that. Hell, he would give his left arm to be the cause of her beautiful smile just once.

Without a doubt, she was going to be the death of him.

Tony closed the door behind them, shutting Bucky and the rest of the station out of their meeting and guided her to a chair with her back to the far wall as she liked. No one could come up behind her. No surprises, she could see everyone in the station through the glass walls and the door that was to her right. She could take off running if she needed to, those small things made her relax enough to stand to be in a place like this. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew Tony and Steve would keep her safe, but after everything, she needed the extra safety net. 

Maybe one day she wouldn’t need that anymore. She hoped one day she wouldn’t need that anymore.

“Want a coffee or anything?” Tony asked as he took the empty seat next to her. “Pepper is running a little late from a deposition this morning. She should be here any minute.”

“No, no coffee…” 

Y/n shook her head as if she was in a daze, and there was a deep frown on her face, causing a bit of worry to run through Tony. He was about to ask what going on in her head, but she spoke up first. 

“I just-- this is going to sound weird...”

“I love weird. Go on.” He smirked and leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to continue. 

“I just--“ She brought her hand up and bit the nail of her left ring finger, a nervous tic Tony had picked up on over the last month. “You know-- since you brought up coffee, did you – is the coffee here--” 

Y/n could feel her cheeks heating up, and it was rapidly spreading to her ears. She looked down at her hand in her lap, trying to find the words to describe the scent that was making her brain go all foggy and her heart pound against her rib cage like it was trying to bust out an find the owner of the scent all on its own.

The moment she stepped into the station today she couldn’t focus on anything, but the sweet smell chocolate mixed with a bit of heat. 

“I--I could have sworn all the coffee in police stations was disgusting cheap crap as a general rule, but it smelled like – It was --“ The best thing I have ever smelled. Made my knees weak and my hands tremble. I can’t get enough of it. ”-- it was mixed with dark chocolate and a hint of something spicy. Cayenne or chili, maybe?” 

Tony glanced into the bullpen, his eyes seeking out the source of the scent she was craving. 

Bucky.

His lips turned up into a lopsided smirk as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Tony has never been a fan of the whole sweet and spicy combination, but hey, who was he to judge? The Gods know what they are doing after all and hiss Alpha smells like charcoal and red wine so what does he know? 

“Our coffee here is shit. You’re right about that.” Tony looked back at her and squeezed her hand, bringing her attention back on him. “You know, I could introduce you to some of the other detectives. In case I am ever not here, and you need something.”

He could smell her fear rising, clogging the room and wrapping itself around her throat as soon as he said it, turning her sweet scent sour. He sat up quickly and pulled her hand from her mouth, squeezing softly and firmly. Letting himself be a source of comfort, he hoped. 

“They are all good Alphas. I promise you. You trust me. Good. So, you know I would never introduce you to someone I thought would hurt you.  You can trust all of them.  Each one of them would lay down their lives for you without a second thought.”

Tony’s grip on her hands tightened and he used them as leverage to pull her closer to him by way of her rolling chair. He started with the least threatening looking of the bunch and pointed at a little red-haired Alpha. 

“Natasha. Don’t let her size fool you. I’ve watched her takedown Alphas double her size without breaking a sweat. Her Omega, Clint, is an EMT. They are disgustingly cute.” 

She smiled sadly at the thought of another happy pairing, something she would never know. Tony could see it written on her face and it only pushed him forward with his plan. 

“The big knucklehead next to her is Sam. Good Alpha. Bickers with his partner constantly but would give his life for his. They have a little love-hate thing going on. No mate just yet, but I think he’s got someone in mind.”

“Lastly…” He pointed to the dark-haired Alpha standing next to Steve, looking pained or worried. 

“James Buchanan Barnes.” 

Y/n’s heart fluttered whenTony said his name, but she kept her face neutral.

“Second only to my Steve, Bucky is the best Alpha I know. Without a doubt. Steve’s best friend since they were kids and he is Sam’s partner. He’s an Omega Rights activist.” 

Tony smirked at the look of shock on her face and continued.

 “It’s not just his words behind the cause either. He puts a large chunk of every paycheck towards the movement and not to mention his time. He volunteers and even helps Omegas who need protection from their abusive Alphas, walking them home at night. That kind of thing. He has his reasons, but I’ll let him tell you what those are. He’s kind, gentle, and can be funny when he wants to be. A bit overprotective but it comes from a good place.”

She nodded, unsure why Tony was telling her all of this about one specific Alpha. 

“And, he’s the Alpha with the yummy scent you’re tripping over,” Tony said with that dumb cocky, know it all smirk she was starting to hate.

Y/n’s eyes widen, and her head snapped back towards the bullpen, gawking back at Bucky. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. She couldn’t fall for another Alpha. Not again. Not after everything. She was simply meant to be alone, no matter what her biology said. She doesn’t need an Alpha for anything, not for her heats and certainly not for her heart.

She could handle everyone all on her own.

Yet, for some reason, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to look away from Bucky. There was a pull between the two of them, like a magnet that was keeping her tethered to him and she couldn’t break the hold it had on her. It kept trying to pull them closer and closer together and she didn’t like that one bit. 

“Why are you telling me this Tony?” she whispered on the edge of a shaky breath. 

“I think it would be good for you to know the other detectives. I won’t always be here. I have other cases and when my heat hits both Steve and I could be gone for up to a week. It would be good for you to have another Alpha here you can trust, and you can trust Bucky.”

Y/n needed to build up her trust for the blue-eyed Alpha on her own and Tony knew that but planting the seed wouldn’t hurt, would it? He glanced at Steve, catching a disapproving look from his Alpha. How did the man always know when he was scheming?

Stupid bond.

Tony sent the blond Alpha a tooth-filled grin and gave a small shoulder shrug. Steve grinned fondly at his Omega but shook his head in answer. 

Bucky followed Steve’s goofy looking grin towards Tony only to catch Y/n looking his way. His eyes immediately softened the moment they lock eyes. He wanted to smile or wave, but he was utterly paralyzed. He wasn’t even sure how she would take it if he made any move to acknowledge her. Steve made it clear how terrified she was, and the thought of her being that scared of him made him sick to his stomach.

Even knowing all of that, he couldn’t bring himself to look away from her.

Tony observed the two of them, staring at each other. The expression on Bucky’s face was one he knew well. He has seen it on his own Alpha’s face many times. Soft adoration. Quiet peace. The calm of knowing their Omega was close by and safe. He peeped back at Y/n only to find the same look of calm replacing lines and darkness that were usually tense and worrisome. He had never seen her like that, so calm and at ease. It looked good on her. 

Tony leaned forward, he shouldn’t say anything, but maybe if he just simply casually mentioned what he saw, maybe just maybe something would spark. 

“Y/n…”

The door swung open to reveal a tall strawberry blonde Alpha with a bright smile, stopping Tony from saying whatever he had intended and breaking Y/n’s gaze from Bucky. She walked around the back side of the small office, behind Tony leaving space between her and Y/n. She knew the young Omega was frightened, after talking with Tony and reading her case Pepper couldn’t blame her for being scared to be near any Alpha.

“Hi, Y/n. I am so sorry I am late. I am sure Tony kept you… entertained.” 

She set Tony with a fond smile as she gracefully sat down in the chair next to him. It left Y/n with a table between her and the Alpha and gave Y/n easy access to the door. Pepper never made a move unless it was thoroughly thought through and this was no different. Pepper wanted Y/n to feel safe. She needed Y/n to be open and honest with her, and more importantly, she needed Y/n to trust her if they were going to win this case.

Tony grinned at Pepper and slowly spun in his chair to keep the attention on him and off of Y/n for at least a few more moments. “I don’t know what you’re referring to Pep. I am always on my best behavior.” He winked at Y/n earning a small chuckle from the Omega.

“Sure, dear. Steve has the patience of a saint, but this isn’t about you Tony. Believe it or not.” She flipped her file open and gave Y/n a warm, friendly smile. “I know you’re nervous and you have every right to be but trust me when I say having Tony Stark-Rogers on your side means you are completely and utterly safe.”

Y/n smiled a little and shifted nervously in her chair, her body instinctively shifting towards the bullpen where Bucky was currently leaning on his desk, pretending not to be interested in whatever they were discussing

Pepper shot Tony a worried look, and his eyes drifted towards the dark-haired Alpha. Her gaze flicked to Bucky, and back to Tony, she nodded her head in understanding. The closer Y/n moved to Bucky the more comfortable she felt, but Y/n had yet to realize what she was doing.

Biology made you do crazy things, even things you don’t realize. 

“Well, the case is very straight forward,” Pepper went on to explain. “We have a witness who saw everything that happened. Not to mention, thanks to Tony we have the pictures of your injuries from the hospital as well as the physical evidence we collected from your clothing that night. Even with all that, it does not guarantee a win. I want to prepare you for that.”

Y/n looked between the two of them, fear and panic building up in her enough to alert any Alpha nearby-- including Bucky. A distressed Omega scent could be picked up miles away if an Alpha was paying attention, and it was pouring off of her in that moment. 

“What? I--I don’t understand,” She stuttered, helplessly letting fear take over. “I thought it would be easy with-with Peter and--and you said it would be a slam dunk, Tony. I can’t do this if he is going to get out. He will come after me. I won’t make it, Tony! I won’t!”

Bucky knew she was upset without ever seeing her face or hearing what he was sure was panic in her voice, and he wasn’t the only Alpha that noticed. Steve and Natasha were now watching the room with interest. Bucky stood up from his desk and took a step towards the conference room without even thinking twice. Tony rolled his chair over to her and held his hand up behind her back, stopping Bucky in his tracks.

There was no doubt everyone knew she was scared and hurting, but Bucky barging into the room because his dumb Alpha brain was telling him to would only make the situation worse.

“Listen to me,” Tony grabbed both her hands in his and pushed her back towards Bucky -- in hopes the stronger his scent, the quicker she would calm down and the more his warmth would squash her fear. 

“Pep is the best. She will fight tooth and nail, and you know, Steve and I are with you, but these cases are still hard to win. Alphas are given all kinds of bullshit rights-- No offense, Pep. Regardless, he won’t ever come near you again. I’ll hide you away if I have to. The biggest thing that we have to overcome is you taking the stand.”

Pepper nodded in agreement and added to Tony’s reassurances, “Tony is right. The one thing that can throw the case out is you losing control on the stand. They can dismiss the case stating a ‘hysterical and mentally unstable Omega’ defense. They can put you in a hospital for seventy-two hours to monitor your state of mind and then release you to your guardian. I can promise you that, if anything like that were to happen, you will not be released back into his charge though.” 

They still need to discuss who she wanted to put as a guardian if the worst should happen, but Pepper didn’t think bringing that up would be the best way to win her trust at the current moment.

Y/n felt like she was going to be sick.

It was too much, and she just wanted to go home and curl into her nest. Or, wrap herself in anything that smells of her-- that Alpha. He wasn’t even hers, and she wanted to steal his jacket and bury it within her nest. She hated how pathetic and weak that sounded. She took a risk and glanced at the Alpha out of the corner of her eye but, quickly looked away when she saw Bucky watching them.

“I-- I'm sorry.” She muttered weakly. “It’s too much. Can-- can I go? Can we try this again another day? I can’t do this.” She slowly blinked away the tears that were caught in her lashes and prayed none would fall. 

Tony looked back at Pepper still holding onto Y/n’s hands, giving her a look that only she would understand. Pepper nodded at the young Omega and smiled. “Of course, I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. I know how scary this is. I think next time we can do this at your place? Where you can feel safe and nest even?”

She nodded and gave Tony’s hand a quick squeeze. “Yes, please. If Tony can come...”

“Uh, like she could tell me I can’t? Steve couldn’t even keep me from being with you. I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t like to follow the rules. I do my own thing.” Tony stated proudly as he stood, pulling her to her feet with him. “Come on. I’ll walk you out, and we can work out a day later this week for us to come by when Wanda is home.”

Y/n relaxed at the mention of having Wanda by her side during their next try and smiled gratefully at Tony.

“Yes, thank you. That would be perfect. Thank you, Tony.”

Tony walked her out of the office and toward a group of worried-looking Alphas. He caught Steve’s eye and grinned as he quickly turned to Bucky.

“Ah, Bucky. This is Y/n. I was telling her about you. You know, in case she ever needs something, and I am not available. He’s not as dapper or charming as I am. Beard isn’t as well kept, and his hair is always in that messy bun thing, but still a good second choice.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at Tony’s playful words and turned to face Y/n with an affectionate smile. 

“Nice to meet you. If-- if you need anything just let me know.” 

To anyone that didn’t know Bucky well, he would seem utterly unaffected by her presence, but Steve knew all of his tells. Bucky has always found it easy to charm any Omega into purring for him, but she wasn’t just any Omega, was she?

“T-thank you. I…” Y/n nodded and looked down shyly. She took a chance and looked up to meet his gaze, smiling nervously. 

“I should get going. I-- I have to get home.” She waved to the group and bolted towards the entrance before anyone had a chance to stop her.

Bucky watched her rush down the front steps, and he collapsed into his desk chair. He finally got the chance to talk to her, and he managed to run her off within seconds. Worst part? She didn’t seem affected by him at all. He nearly fell over himself the first time he caught her scent, but she only wanted to get away from him.

Maybe he was wrong.

Steve could tell Tony was just as upset as Bucky that his little plan didn’t work. His Omega didn’t like to lose and more than that he hated being wrong. He wrapped his arm around his Omega and kissed Tony’s temple softly. 

“Come on. I’ll take you to lunch to cheer you up.”

Tony perked up at his mate’s idea and smiled up at Steve, “The Italian place I like?” 

Steve laughed-- that big, rueful Alpha type of laugh and nodded in agreement, mumbling something that sounded like, As if I would take you someplace you didn’t like my little matchmaker. Bucky was so caught up in his head, he didn’t even notice the couple, let alone paid attention to what they were saying.

“Hey, Bucky?”

Bucky glanced up at Tony, brow raised in question.

“Don’t count yourself out just yet. Who knew she had a thing for chocolate and cayenne?” He winked on his way outside with Steve following close behind, his arm around Tony’s waist.

It took Bucky a full second before he got what Tony meant and a blindly bright grin formed on his face. He knew he was right! She was his mate. Now, he had to get her to fall for him when she wouldn’t come near him or talk to him.

No problem.

He could do this.

If he could get Steve through childhood and keep him from getting himself killed, he could handle this.

-------

The entire walk back to her apartment; the only thing she was thinking about was the sound of his voice and the way he had smiled at her. No one has ever looked at her like that before, and Gods did it scare her.  Now that she was home and Bucky’s scent no longer surrounded her, she felt like a piece of her was missing. She couldn’t wait to get out of the station and get back to her nest, and the funny thing was, now, she just wanted to be back in that station wrapped in his warm scent -- the only place she has felt safe since her parents died. 

Right next to the handsome Alpha.

Y/n tossed her purse on the couch as she closed the door behind her. She needed a glass of wine to help rid her thoughts of the stupidly handsome Alpha that smelt like heaven. The apartment seemed empty which wasn’t uncommon for this time of day, so it would be her and her bottle of wine, which she was more than okay with. 

A few things looked out of place and the biggest being the gift on top of their dining room table.

“Wanda? You home?” she called into their small apartment, she eyed the big white box with a huge red bow stuck to the top. Of course, that was just the thing Wanda’s boyfriend would do. Sending her flowers for absolutely no reason at all.

“I should have been born a Beta,” she muttered to herself.

Part of her did like being an Omega, she liked the idea of having one perfect mate — one person who knew her inside and out. Someone who was quite literally made to be hers, but in the world they live in, it was not as glamorous as the movies made it out to be. She walked over to the box and ran her fingers over the pretty red bow, groaning, “Ugh, they are so gross with their cute love.” 

She slipped the card out and flipped it open to see what adorably disgustingly cute thing Vis wrote to her to best friend, but what she found instead made her blood run cold.

Don’t forget how much you mean to me, Omega. And, remember I don’t share what’s MINE.

Her hands trembled as she slowly flipped the lid of the box open and immediately started to gag at the smell that filled her apartment. She rushed back to her purse and scrambled to find her phone. Her shaky fingers scroll through her contacts to Tony’s private number. It took him less than one ring to answer; if she was calling this line, it was an emergency.

“Tony?! I need you and Steve. Please. He-- he came here. No, he left me…” She took a deep breath and used the arm of her sweater to cover her nose from the smell. “He left me a box of dead rose petals, filled with bugs and-and someone’s hand... I don’t know who the hand belongs to. Please, please come," She begged through the tears that had fallen. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Steve and I are on our way. He’s paying the bill now, but we are forty minutes away on the other side of town. Steve is calling the station and telling Bucky,” Tony stated calmly. “You remember what I said about Bucky? Detective James Barnes? He wouldn’t hurt you, and I would bet my ass... On second thought I would bet Steve’s sweet ass, that’s how sure I am that he will protect you with his life. You are safe with him.”

She nodded slowly, as if Tony could see her through the phone and backed herself up against the wall, eyes stuck to the hand in the box on her dining room table. 

“I’m safe with him,” she repeated. “I’m safe with James.”

Previous // Next

[owlespresso]

Rejuvenation

Warning: this is full on smut.  My tip jar is open! I write headcanons in exchange for donations! If you’re interested, check it out HERE. I am also open for commissions, information HERE. A big thanks to @darthsuki, who helped SO MUCH with this piece!

“Are you sure this’ll work?”

The canopy of the forest is a rotted, purple and brown sky. Vivid greens are now dull reminders of what Savalierwood used to be. Its trees are gnarled, bark twisted and greyed and splintered. It’s eerily quiet. 

No small creatures scuttle in the brush, no birds chirp and sing. You wish you could see what this place looked like before the life began to bleed from it. Maybe you’ll find out.

“We’ll find out,” Caduceus rumbles. He echoes your thoughts and the sight of him, so very close, reassures you. He’s a vivid strike of color among your decepit surroundings, a welcoming sight, nestled with you in the browned, dead grass. There’s no one else here but the two of you, and you find solace in it, even with this weird sex ritual you’ve decided to help him with.

When he’d come to ask you about it, he’d been understandably sheepish. His knuckles rapped gently against the wood of the door and he leaned against the frame. His gaze glued on the wood plank floor, his smile the shyest you’d ever seen him wear. The flutter of his eyelashes when he finally looked up at you made your heart stutters.

There’d been no chance of saying “no”, especially not now. Not when his large, warm hands are resting on your hips, the size making you swallow in pure awe, maybe trepidation. The texture of his soft fur against your skin is a stark contrast to the chilled air. You brace your hands against his shoulders and he shifts with a little “hold on” to warn you. He brings you further into the spell circle of sticks and twigs and flowers he’s artfully arranged around you both.

“Okay,” You murmur, jolting when his still-clothed cock bumps against your clothed cunt. God, he’s huge. You wonder if you’re going to be able to take all of that—and the thought makes want throb deep inside.  “I… I guess we should start,” One of your hands cups his cheek, thumb brushing against the fur. He looks at you with an innocent, eager kind of curiosity.

“Okay,” He echoes and his forehead presses against yours. The gesture is surprisingly intimate, and soothing.

You can make out each, individual eyelash, a mere piece of the gorgeous, grand ensemble that makes up his entire being. His head tilts forward and his lips press against yours. The contact is curious, explorative, while his hands roam up your sides, sending goosebumps over your skin at the juxtaposition between temperatures.

The tickle of the cool grass against your bare knees adds to the pile of sensations and the stretch of the darkened trunks feels like a safety net more than anything. The moment is private, yet wide open.

The kiss is slow and lasting, and it takes him a moment to tilt his head to get a better angle. The broad of his tongue rasps against your lips and his audacity makes you gasp. His tongue hovers hesitantly between your mouths and only moves when you caress his tongue with your own.

An appreciative hum rumbles in the back of her throat. His roaming left hand ceases its investigative path to wrap around your back, tugging you into his body. Your chests press tight together, the tufts of his pink hair teasing your perked nipples.

You suck in a deep breath and arch your back just as a need for air forces him to part from your lips. You gasp and pant, as exhilaration throbs like a heartbeat in your cunt and shit—you’re already wet.

He trails kisses along your jawline,, his affection sluggish and experimental.

“You smell really nice,” He sighs, voice dripping low with want, warm breath pressing into your skin. His teeth experimentally scrape over your neck and you let a whine slip out. Let him know how good you feel. This is his first time. He’s probably nervous.

The noise makes him still, before he continues a gentle path down to your chest.

—And then you start to see it. Brilliant, gold sparks of energy that pulse from your skin where his lips had been and vanish into the air. Your eyes widen and your grip on him tightens. “Is it supposed to do that?” You ask, voice an urgent whisper.

“Mhm, I think so,” He says, tongue rasping over your collarbone. The wetness left behind immediately chills against the air and makes goosebumps rise, “The magic is jump-started by touch, or when one of us feels good.”

“O-Okay,” You stutter when his unoccupied hand reaches up, entirely cupping your breast.

“The chrysanthemum is for life, the corianders are for virility and the oil has a bunch of things in it to make it feel nice.” He moves away from your chest when he speaks, meeting your eyes and you can tell he’s genuinely trying to relieve any worries you may be having. His unoccupied hand reaches over to one of the small clay pots he’d brought with him and nudges the top off it. Two of his long fingers dip in and pull out, now coated with something wet and slippery.

He reaches forward, slowly and rubs it against your thigh. It immediately cools—and then grows hot, causing a small dose of something hot and heavy to seep into your system. You inhale sharply and shift your hips to try and relieve the feeling, but it does nothing.

A lazy smile breaks out across his face.

“Good, right?” You don’t trust your voice to not wobble and whine, so you settle for a nod.  “Good.” He again reaches into the pot and covers three fingers in it, before his hand returns to your breast.

God, his hands are fucking huge. His palm presses over your nipple. The oil slicks against your skin and makes your nub suddenly ache for attention. You arch your back as a needy cry rumbles high from your throat.

Your breath hitches and the subtle sound encourages him to rub it over the pointed nub, making you arch your back, grind your pussy into his dick and you feel it twitch— “Does that feel nice?” He asks, looking up at you. It genuinity of it lets you know that he wants to make you feel good, wants to press you against the dirt and fuck you senseless—okay, maybe not that far.

All you can manage is a nod and he continues to play with and tease your body, adjusting his touch when he finds spots you like, spots you don’t like. It overwhelms your nerves and synapses and you just melt into him, already a puddle of goo. The hand not on your breast strokes down your spine and cups your ass, before sliding down, beginning to sneak his fingers in between your legs.

Your insides churn molten with pleasure as he lays you down among long dried up weeds and lavender weaved by his expert fingers. He doesn’t complain when you scratch your nails over his shoulders and then his back. He makes you squirm and grips your thighs tight, lapping at your slicked sweetness like it’s coveted honey lavender.

And he looks, he never stops looking, never stops watching your reactions, evaluating at every step to make sure that you’re good, you’re good, you’re good—

You fall over the cusp of your pleasure like caramel drizzled on tres leches, a sob wretched from your throat. Only the silent trees bare witness as your body writhes among the dirt, pulses of gold falling off your skin and onto the grass where it slicks and pools.

He pulls his tongue away and immediately crawls over you. He brushes any hair out of your face. The gesture, as small as it is, is touching.

His eyes are wide awake as they look you over.

“Are you good to go again?” He inquires. The hand he hadn’t finger-fucked you with strokes down your abdomen and to your hip, leaving more of what is likely that oil in his wake. You nod and after a moment, the substance settles into your skin and snaps you out of post-orgasm weariness.

“Alright. Let’s try something different this time.” He hums as he settles on his back. His shock of hair flops against his face with the motion and he has to blow it away from his face. You almost don’t move to mount him like you’ve wanted for the past twenty minutes, too caught up in the stretch of his body, the lowering of his eyelids as he gives you another one of those stupid, loopy smiles. The kind that makes your heart tighten and skip, the kind that makes you want to cover yourself with him and be infatuated with him for the rest of eternity—

The next thing you know, his hands are on your hips, guiding you down the thickness of his cock. He’s big. Your toes curl and your eyes shut tight as you clench around him.

“You’re doing great,” He praises, coaching you through the process as though he’s done it a million times before. “Just a little more, okay?”

The stretch burns and you have to pause every once in awhile, but the pleasure is mind-numbing and you want, want, want and keep wanting.

A single breath rattles from your lungs and into the open air as he finally hilts. You’re trembling.

“I can’t believe I took all of that.” You gasp, and then notice that traces of gold are rising and dissolving into the air like trails of smoke from where you’re gripping his shoulders.

His hands reach for your hips and grabs them, before lifting you up off his cock and letting you slide back down—the lewd noise of his flesh against your own coupled with knowing he has the strength to do something like that nearly makes you cum on the spot.

Your knees press against the ground to help, thighs twitching and trembling with each pass and enter of that huge cock stretching you to your limits. You’re really not sure how much time passes, but the gold smoke rising from his ashen fur only increases in amount, only at this point, you’re too blissed out to care.

“You make the nicest faces.” He praises through his panting as his pace starts to jitter and fumble. He groans deep in his chest and you know he’s almost there. Your walls tighten around him in an effort to push him over the edge and it works.

His hips jolt and stutter as hot cum fills you, leaking out onto the ground. Your voice raises in a noise caught between a sob and a cry as he keeps thrusting through it, propelling you to your second orgasm.

You feel your body begin to cry out for rest, spent after two, consecutive releases. Your thighs tremble and you give out against his body. Your face rests against his shoulder, eyes shutting—

And then there’s the searing slick of oil against your back.

Without pretense, grabs you by the shoulders and rolls with you. The forest whooshes by in a blur of browns and purples until you’re staring up at the canopy. He doesn’t even pull out of you.

More, your body cries, whittled down to mere instinct and desire. You want more, and by the gods, does he give it to you. Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him as tight as possible to you.

You don’t care about whatever your relationship was before this. You don’t care how it’ll change. All you care about is the pleasure that’s seeping over you and the runes rising in the air, divine shapes of gold that rise around in a circle and stick to your skin like clothes during rain.

Each slam of his cock inside of your feeble body spirals you further and further into insensitivity. Fat, hot tears bead in your eyes and roll down your cheeks and your hands fly to his shoulders. You don’t know if you’re trying to push him away or bring him closer. His velvety praise gives way to low groans and snarls as he fucks into you with renewed vigor, eyes glowing with something faintly not him.

Your clit bumps up against his pulvis with every thrust and your eyes clench tight. He’s too fucking big to not hit every little place inside you that makes you a feeble mess.

Your body feels overheated and is pushed to the brink with each passing moment.

The runes and the dimness of the forest and the molasses sweet sound of his voice fold around you like a cocoon until you cum in unison. Your cries bounce of the stumps and trunks and barren branches, your mixed essences leaking out onto the still-dry dirt. You force yourself to keep your eyes open so you can watch the shut of his eyes and the curl of his lips as he growls deep and dark.

He lays you down and time stops passing. It’s only an obscene smattering of pleasure, of cum and “Caduceus, Caduceus, Caduceus~” until reality reforms. Your body is effectively jelly, limbs splayed out where he left them.

He’d shifted between gentle and violent, a turbulence that definitely surprised you and knocked the breath out of you more than once. But it was good.

...And you’ll probably pay for it tomorrow. Your eyes flutter shut, breath finally beginning to even.

In between all the fucking, you know plumes of gold rolled off your skin and into the air, and only now are you curious as to what that does.

One of Caduceus’s arms, warm and furry is thrown over your torso. The soft sound of his breathing nearly lulls you to sleep—but he shifts. The grass crinkles and crunches under him as he pulls himself into a sitting position, pink eyes wide as he leans over you. His movements are frantic and hurried, lips curled and eyebrows furrowed into a concerned expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” A small smile crawls across your lips and you reach a hand up. The muscles in your arms protest and wobble as you reach your fingers on his cheek, thumb brushing underneath his eye. “It was really good, Caduceus.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper, fatigue already pulling at your body, urging you to sleep.

“Okay,” He replies, “You can go to sleep. I’ll carry you back to the house.”

His permission is all you really need to rest your head and shut your eyes. You hear the shift of the grass underneath his feet before his arms come to wrap around you. Instinctively, your eyes fly open and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. Your face presses into the crook of his shoulder and take a deep inhale. Your body unwinds and relaxes within mere moments, guided by the exhaustion that weighs you down.

When you fall asleep, you miss the way the golden runes twirl off your bodies and into the air.

You miss the circle pulses with vibrant energy. You miss the way patches of grass begin to turn emerald green, and the small flowers that start poking out from the brush.

[badstoriesaboutgoodpeople]

The List

Summary: So basically my friend came up with this thing and basically it's a reward list, so every time a player on a team we like scores they get added to the list, which will be explained in the fic. This is basically all smut with a teeny bit of plot. Apologies for not posting this on the weekend, I’m drowning in school work right now. 

Warnings: Just a little heads up Tyler does use demeaning language when dirty talking to the reader (slut and whore) but they are in no way said in a negative context. Just wanted to give y'all a warning in case that bothers anyone. LOTS of dirty talk in one part, semi-public blowjob (is an empty parking lot considered public? Idk), some swearing, mentions of a gangbang with the rest of the team. If I missed anything else let me know.

  You sat in the stands of the American Airlines Centre watching your boyfriend, Tyler Seguin, play against the Washington Capitals. Jamie Benn was out because of an upper body injury, so many people had turned to Tyler to carry his team to victory. It didn't take long for him to score, making the score 1-0 at the end of the first period. At the end of the second it was 1-1, leaving the Dallas fans in the arena holding their breath as the third period ticked away with no goals, meaning the game went to overtime. The atmosphere was tense as OT started, with the puck going back and forth for a few minutes, before Tyler put it in the Capital's net, meaning another win on home ice. You made a mental note that Tyler was on "the list" three times. You and your friend had come up with this list a while ago, before you began dating Tyler. Basically every time a player from your team scores they get added to the list. Whoever is on the list by the end of the night has earned a blowjob. Players who score multiple times have multiple spots, and married men are excused for obvious reasons. Now, this list was usually just fun and games, but now that you were dating Seguin you had an opportunity take it seriously. He had rightfully earned two spots, but because he won the game for his team you felt the third spot was well deserved. You made your way to the locker room to congratulate the rest of the team. You walked up to Tyler and told him in a hushed tone,

"You made it on the list three times tonight, you better be ready when we get home."

"Three? I only scored twice," he whispered back, while beginning to get dressed.

"I feel like scoring the winning goal in OT is worthy of an extra spot, and I doubt you'll disagree," you said as he began to gather his things up and get ready to leave.

"You do have a point. However, I do disagree with something else you said: who says we need to wait until we get home?" asked Tyler, weaving his fingers through yours as he began to leave the dressing room. You were inevitably stopped by the media asking for interviews with Tyler. He obliged, but you could tell this was the last thing he wanted to be doing at the moment. After he was done he hurried out to his car, which was parked in a mostly deserted area behind the AAC. He put his bags in the trunk before turning to you with an expectant look on his face.

"Uh Tyler, aren't we gonna get in the car??" you asked as he folded his arms over his chest before glancing at his watch unamused.

"There's not enough room in there."

"Tyler you drove the G-Wagon today, surely we could make it work," you pled, secretly hoping he'd say no and expect you to get on your knees for him outside of the arena, where anybody could get lost looking for their car and walk by and see you.

"I said no and that's final. Now, you don't want to keep me waiting, do you? This was your idea after all."

You slowly sank down to your knees, feeling the gravel and pebbles dig into your skin through the denim of your jeans. You quickly glanced around and made sure nobody was around before unbuttoning his dress pants. You could see he was already half hard when you exited the arena, so it was no surprise that his cock sprang out when you pulled his pants down slightly. You wasted no time taking him into your mouth, wanting this entire experience to be over as quick as possible in order to minimize the risk of being caught. The possibility of someone walking by and catching you with one of the best players on the team's dick in your mouth was thrilling to say the least, but you didn't want to deal with what would happen if the story got into the media. You relaxed your jaw and allowed Tyler to do what he pleased with your mouth. You felt him hit the back of your throat but he didn't let that stop him, continuing to force your head down until you were choking on him. He pulled you off slightly and you brought a hand up to stroke whatever wasn't in your mouth. You heard him growl slightly when you pulled off far enough to focus on his tip, swirling your tongue around before running it gently through his slit, tasting the bead of precum that had formed there. You took him further into your mouth again before bringing your other hand up to gently cup his balls. That's what did it for him, and he was barely able to choke out a warning before he was coming in your mouth. You tried to swallow as much as you could, but some managed to drip down your chin. You hurriedly tucked him back into his dress pants and ran a finger along your chin, licking it off seductively. Tyler watched you before helping you stand up and get into the car. It wasn't until you went to buckle up your seatbelt that you noticed you had managed to get cum on your jersey.

"TYLER!! You got my jersey all dirty!" you pouted as he got into the car.

"A) I don't think that was my fault sweetheart, you're the one that made the mess. B) I can easily get you a new one, and C) keep that one, you can wear it while I fuck you," he said casually, turning out of the parking lot. You said nothing but blushed at the thought of riding Tyler and having him proudly look up at the logo on your chest, or him fucking you from behind and seeing his name and number, just more proof that you were his and only his. You gently ran your fingers up and down Tyler's thigh, at first out of boredom, but as you watched Tyler clench has jaw you realized the affect you were having on him. You started to move your hand up higher, until it hovered over his dick. You started to lower your hand but before you could touch him Tyler grabbed your wrist and placed your hand back in your lap. You met his eyes and behind the look of annoyance you could tell he was enjoying this. You decided you weren't quite done teasing him though. You carefully removed your shoes before placing one foot on his dashboard. You turned your body slightly and spread your legs as much as you could while sitting in the passenger seat of a car. You ran your fingers up the inside of your thigh before ghosting them over where you wanted them. You saw Tyler's eyes dart over to watch what you were doing occasionally, before returning to watch the freeway. You slowly reached up to unbutton your jeans and pulled them off as quickly as possible before moving back to your original position. Tyler did a double take as he watched you toss your discarded jeans into the back seat.

"Y/N, what the hell do you think you're doing?" asked Tyler as he exited the freeway and began driving back to his house.

"Just getting comfortable," you said smugly, eyeing the traffic in front of you. You sat quietly for a minute, scrolling through Instagram and checking Snapchat. This quickly became boring, and you decided to torture Tyler a bit more. You pulled your lacy thong down your legs and dropped it in Tyler's lap. He picked it up and threw a cheeky glance your way before tucking it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. You felt the car come to a stop and looked at the cars lined up bumper to bumper in front of you and decided to have fun. You let your hand wander down to start slowly rubbing your clit. A smirk grew on Tyler's face but he made no moves to stop you, he merely kept his eyes on the road. You took it up a notch and gently slipped two fingers inside of yourself, letting out a breathy moan. You started slowly, but you quickly decided to pick up the pace. As traffic began to move quicker so did your wrist, and by the time you turned into Tyler's neighbourhood you were on the brink of an orgasm.

"Ty please I-"

"Go ahead baby, make a mess all over my car seat," said Tyler in a husky voice. That was all it took, you came with a shudder and a low moan, feeling your wetness drip onto the leather of the seat beneath you. You pulled into Tyler's driveway and you gently removed your fingers from your wet heat before you watched in amazement as Tyler grabbed your wrist and gently guided your hand toward his mouth, before taking your fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. He pulled into the garage and you moved to reach into the back seat to grab your jeans but Tyler shook his head.

"I closed the garage door, no one is going to see you. Besides, there's no use in putting them on when they'll end up on the floor in a while anyway. You can grab them later when you come out to clean my passenger seat," he instructed as you unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car. You quickly ran into the house, your jersey barely covering your bare ass. You quickly moved to sit on the couch and covered your exposed lower half, knowing Tyler would likely continue the tradition of filming his dogs greeting him. Your prediction was correct, Tyler came in with his phone recording, capturing the dogs jumping up and knocking him over, before licking his face and climbing all over him. You watched the videos as soon as he'd posted them on his Instagram story, and let out a choked gasp as you notice the blue lace of your thong was still peaking out of his pocket.

"Tyler? Forget about something?" you asked as he sat down, gesturing to his pocket.

"Oh this? You don't approve of my new pocket square?" he asked with a smug grin on his face.

"What are you gonna say when somebody asks what's in your pocket, huh?"

"I'm sure I can come up with some excuse. Now, I believe you still owe me two more blowjobs, you might wanna get working on that," said Tyler as he walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it quickly, some of in dripping down his chin.

"There, now we're even," he said with a smirk as you got off the couch and let the dogs into the backyard before making your way over to Ty. You came up behind him and gently pulled his suit jacket off of his shoulders before draping it over the back of a chair. He turned to face you and gently pressed his lips to yours. You stayed like this for a minute, kissing him gently until he bit your bottom lip and you gasped. Tyler slipped his tongue into your mouth and the kiss quickly became very heated. You reached down and grabbed him through his dress pants, squeezing gently before you started to run your hand along his growing excitement. He groaned into the kiss, clearly still worked up after your antics on the ride home. You knelt down for the second time that night, the tile flooring of the kitchen cool against your skin. You took your time with him this time, unbuttoning his pants before slowly dragging the zipper down with your teeth. You stood back up and helped Tyler with his dress shirt, before putting it with his jacket. He took the liberty of pulling down his pants and removing his socks and his boxers, leaving him naked in the middle of his kitchen. You raked your eyes over his chiseled abs and toned legs before glancing at his dick, which was now fully hard and beginning to leak precum. You walked back over to him and he placed a hand on your shoulder to gently push you to the ground, his patience wearing thin. You placed a gentle kiss to his tip before licking it gently and taking it into your mouth. You gently swirled your tongue around it and you heard Tyler groan above you, and felt his fingers tangle themselves in your hair. You heard the dogs whining outside and you looked up at him while you started to bob your head rhythmically but he merely shook his head, muttering something about them being patient. You decided to try something, and you took him farther and farther into your mouth until your nose touched his skin. Tyler gasped when you gagged lightly, your throat tightening around him. You felt him wipe away a tear that had begun to drip down your cheek, and you moved to focus on his tip once again. You heard one of the dogs bark and you pulled off of Tyler, your mouth making an obscene pop as his tip left your lips.

"Should I go let them in and put them in the bedroom?" you asked as you looked up at Ty through your lashes, still gently stroking him.

"Nah they can wait. Plus after that little stunt you pulled earlier I'm not going to last much longer," said Tyler, his voice strained. You continued your earlier actions, moving your head skillfully, running your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside of his dick, knowing it drives him wild. A few minutes later Tyler managed to choke out that he was close. You let him fall from your mouth as you brought a hand up to stroke him quickly. He looked confused at first but seemed to get the message when you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. A minute later you felt him come all over your face, his hips twitching and bucking into your hand as he rode out his high. Once he caught his breath you looked him in the eye as you collected some of the cum off of your cheek and licked it off your finger seductively.

"God Y/N, you're such a little slut, aren't you? Look at you, mascara running down your cheeks, my cum all over your face, wearing nothing but my jersey. You're so wet you're practically dripping on my kitchen floor. You love being a little whore, don't you? Love getting on your knees for me and giving me what I deserve. Your mouth feels so good, almost like you were made for this. I wish the rest of the guys could see you like this. I bet you would love letting each and every one of them use you, showing them just how well you can use that pretty little mouth. I'd be the only one allowed to fuck you though, I don't want anyone else trying to claim what's already mine. I'd fill you up with my cum, a reminder that I'm the only one who's allowed to please you. You'd enjoy that wouldn't you, my dirty little girl," Tyler said in a husky voice, tilting your chin up so you were forced to look him in the eye as he spoke. "Next time you walk into our locker room maybe I'll let them. Make sure everyone gets their turn. Maybe I'll even let them touch you, let them feel how wet you can get. They won't be allowed to make you cum though, no, that's my job. I'll make them watch as I eat you out, show them how to please a woman. Maybe I'll let Jamie have a turn, there's no way he'll be able to resist a chance to taste you once he sees how pretty you look when you come and how good you suck his cock. You'd love that wouldn't you?" You nod, unable to form words. Tyler smirks, and grabs his boxers from the pile they had ended up in before putting them on and letting in the dogs. You went upstairs to wash your face and get ready for bed. It wasn't often you saw this side of Tyler; he usually chose to behave like a pillow princess, ordering you around and making you do all the work. You made a mental note to wear this jersey to the next game, hoping he'd been serious about letting his teammates have their way with you. You also made a mental note to discuss it with him later, and to make sure you took your thong out of his pocket before the suit got dropped off to be dry cleaned. You laid in bed and Tyler soon joined you, closing the door behind him so the dogs wouldn't bother you. You both decided the third blowjob you owed him could wait until tomorrow, but that didn't stop him from running his hands along your thighs and over your butt before moving them up to massage your boobs. He flipped you over so that you laid beneath him. He said something about wanting to thank you for making him feel good today and before you knew it his face was buried between your legs and you were moaning loudly for him. He ate you out for what felt like hours until you begged him to stop, the oversensitivity no longer enjoyable. He moved to kiss you, and you tasted yourself on his lips and felt how damp his beard was. He laid down on his side and pulled you into his chest where you soon fell asleep as you listened to his heart beat steadily in his chest.

You woke up the next morning still pressed into Tyler's chest, and you listened to him snore softly. You got up and carefully removed his arm from around your waist before stealing one of his hoodies from the closet and a pair of sweats. You padded down the stairs quietly, before joining the dogs on the couch. You decided to watch The Office for a while, patting Gerry on the head and giving Cash a belly rub. You heard Tyler wander downstairs a little while after 9 AM wearing nothing but his boxers, his hair wild and curly and a tired look on his face.

"Morning, I'm gonna shower, wanna join?"

You simply nodded, giving each of the dogs a kiss before getting up and following Ty up the stairs. You heard the shower turn on, and you began removing your hoodie as you walked towards the bathroom. You slipped off your sweats and left them in a pile in the hallway. You were naked by the time you turned into the bathroom, and Tyler was already in the shower. You stepped into the hot shower with him, and things began as innocently as showering with somebody else could be. You washed Tyler's hair for him, styling it into a mohawk before he rinsed the suds out. He did the same for you, massaging your scalp with his fingers. You put conditioner in your hair, and reached for the body wash but Tyler had beat you to it. He squeezed some out into his palms and rubbed it into a lather. He motioned for you to turn around and he began gently washing your back. His hands slowly wandered further down your body, moving to grab your ass. He squeezed gently before smacking one side. You gasped, not expecting it. He turned you around to face him again so he could wash your front. He scrubbed your arms and legs before washing your stomach and boobs. He began gently at first, ghosting his fingers over your nipples lightly before becoming more aggressive, squeezing tightly. He finally pulled you in to kiss him, and you allowed your hands to run over his biceps and his chest, before drifting over his abs and down to his dick, which was now half hard. You knelt down for him, trying your best not to get water in your face. It was quick and sloppy, the shower not large enough for an NHL player and another average sized person. Tyler enjoyed it nonetheless, coming down your throat with a growl after a few minutes. You both finished showering, and stepped out. You quickly grabbed the discarded clothing the hallway and put it back on, wrapping your hair up in a towel. You walked back into the bathroom and Tyler wrapped you in a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, mumbling words of praise and thanking you for being so good to him.

'If it means you'll treat me like this, I have to play that well more often," said Ty with a small smile, placing a kiss on your lips before gong to get dressed for the day.