#what life have I been living that open displays of affection feel scandalous

[eternally--mortal]

Just me over here reading Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction by writers like emilieee and missnoodles and realizing that I read emotional closeness / physical displays of friendly affection in the same way that other people read steamy romance novels . . .

‘Oh my gosh they’re holding hands’ and ‘she’s showing him open affection’ and ‘his eyes are so soft when he looks at her’ — ‘so scandalous. Oh my goodness.’

‘They’re flirting with each other. Openly. How naughty of them. How intimate. How unusual.’

‘Mutual banter? In public? How daring. Emotionally, I can’t take this. I’m euphoric. Over the moon at their bravery. The audacity.’

[vrishchikawrites]

Hey, It's hundreds of years later, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are immortals. Immortals are known but they dont photograph well and aren't really in the media's eye. In 2010s some one discovers the documents detailing the shamelessness of the ancient Wangxian and Lan Yuan tells his parents what the mordern world has discovered.

This is the first time I'm ever giving a prompt. Sorry if I did it wrong. Let me know if I did it wrong and I'll try again.

'A recent archeological discovery declared a win for gays everywhere.'

Sizhui chuckles and clicks on the link, curious. It is always amusing to see modern people become so excited about such things. 'Gays' have existed for as long as 'hets' have existed, after all.

'As we have reported before, archeologists working at the Gusu Library site recently discovered a hidden chamber full of sacred, forbidden texts. Among these texts was the infamous Collection of Turmoil, which may have been used to kill Nie Mingjue, a Sect Leader from the Five Great Sects era.'

Sizhui frowns, wondering why his A'die let that happen. Hadn't they removed all harmful books from the library centuries ago?

'But archeologists also discovered something that probably didn't belong in the forbidden section, a record of correspondence between sects, all meticulously archived.

"We have letters with precise dates and summaries." Wang Chuhua, the leader of the GusuLan archeological team and a Cultivation History professor at Gusu University explains to us, "They give us fascinating insight into the period just after the Five Great Sects era. We tend to gloss over this time because nothing eventful happens. It is a period of gradual decline of bloodline-based Sects and the rise of Culvation Schools. But day-to-day events are interesting in their own way."

They're indeed interesting, as the team discovered very quickly.

"Our first reaction to those letters was shock. You see, people don't really understand the historical significance of the two people mentioned here. Hanguang-jun-"

Sizhui pauses, his eyes wide. He stares at the words for a moment before shaking his head sharply.

"Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch were both great Cultivators. They were admired and studied by the first Independent Cultivators. In fact, many used the fall of Yiling Patriarch as an example of why being independent from the Sects was a good idea."

For those who don't know, the Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian defected from his Sect to protect a small group of war prisoners. He was betrayed by his martial brother and thought to be killed. It is likely that he was forced to flee for his life and hid for thirteen years before being discovered again.

"It was common knowledge, even two hundred years later, that Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch were unfailingly loyal to each other. There are some romanticized tales of Lan Wangji being punished so severely for helping Wei Wuxian that he needed years to recover." Wang Chuhua elaborates, "But while we could speculate on the nature of their relationship, we didn't have any proof until we found the letters."

These letters are complaints from various Sect leaders and cultivators. Apparently, the two great cultivators weren't just friends, they were married. And by all accounts, they enjoyed their marriage very much.

"Oh yes, they were quite... shameless in their displays of affection." Wang Chuhua adds with a chuckle, "People often stumbled across them 'embracing' on open fields or in woodlands. There's one particularly interesting letter from an inn owner requesting compensation for loss of business. Apparently, the couple were so loud in during their lovemaking, they chased all other guests away."

Sizhui chokes and feels his face burn in embarrassment.

'These letters cover over sixty years, which means Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch continued to scandalize the Cultivation World for six decades. "They were scandalous but also highly respected. Lan Wangji, in particular, was well-known for his honesty and forthrightness. Wei Wuxian is still considered one of the most brilliant cultivators of all time. We still study some of his theories today, particularly pertaining to Ying Energy Cultivation. Back then, this branch of cultivation was considered unorthodox and highly controversial."

So, it is indeed a win for the gays everywhere. Two well-known, historically significant cultivators were clearly in a loving, passionate gay relationship. And their society accepted it wholeheartedly, even if there were a few complaints about their scandalous behavior.'

"Wholeheartedly is a strong word," Sizhui mutters faintly but he can feel a rush of amusement as his embarrassment fades away.

He quickly forwards the article to his Baba and Jingyi, knowing both of them would die laughing while reading it.

It takes Baba barely five minutes to respond. The text has about a million cry laughing emojis, his Baba's favorite. Needless to say, he is amused.

"thanks for the laugh, Sizhui!" His Baba replies, "Even Lan Zhan is laughing and you know how rare it is!"

'Not rare at all,' He thinks fondly, shaking his head in amusement. He can barely remember that time before Baba's resurrection, when A'die wore a bitter, brittle expression of grief even as he lived his life fully.

That expression is a distant memory. There's always a laugh or smile in his A'die's eyes these days.

Baba won't have it any other way.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Kickstart My Heart Pt.1 (Racer! Yeosang)

Next>>

Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, 80s AU.

Summary: During an era known for its vibrant colors, eccentric fashion styles and rise of new yet unconventional genres of music, the young generation of that time was infamously known for their need to rebel and live their lives rather scandalously and Y/N is no exception. So when a new and attractive man moves into her town, she has her eyes set on making him her next boy toy.

Word Count: 4K+

Warnings: Dumb attempts at crackhead humor, reader is a cold hearted bitch, guy gets dumped in public, reader's friend is lowkey creepy.

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Throwing on the last article of clothing that had been discarded the night before, the young woman shook out her hair, still damp from the quick shower she just took. Picking up her bag, she looked over at the figure still sleeping soundly, the subtle hint of a smile on his face. With a pitied pout on her lips, she walked over to the edge where his face was. Taking out the lipstick tube from her bag, she applied it all over her lips, painting them in the dark burgundy color that she fancied so much and had practically become her signature hue. Bending over, she pressed her lips against the corners of his mouth, giving him the faintest whisper of a kiss before pulling away. A satisfied smirk was plastered on her pretty features as she stared at the lipstick mark on his face, the only memoir she'd leave him with as she had done with countless others.

Closing the front door behind her, she pulled her denim jacket tighter on her body, shivering slightly from the early dawn's breeze that blew across. It was always like that even though summer had just begun, the early morning hours still feeling obnoxiously cool and then transpiring into slightly uncomfortably warm afternoons that had more than one soul in that quaint town grumbling and fussing about the weather. But oh did the evenings feel absolutely refreshing, and that's when everything would start bustling to life.

Having finally made it out of that small residential area and finding one of the main roads that helped her locate where to go, she started heading south towards the all too familiar diner where she had been working in ever since her school days, first starting part time and eventually transpiring to full time when it came time for her to spread her wings and fly out on her own, a feat she had been most anxious to do to get away from the overly controlling nature of her parents. She knew they cared about her, but she herself cared very little about the morals and principles they had raised her with, a common trait all the young people in that town shared: their rebellious and headstrong nature to not conform and go against everything they had been taught thus far. Live their own lives as freely as they chose to do.

And she definitely lived as she wanted to, even if it ended up with a rather bad reputation and ugly labels that rather than infuriate her, she openly embraced, as others had come to as well.

The light twinkle of the bells above the glass door let the person at the register know someone came in and they immediately plastered on their business smile, which quickly faded when they saw who it was.

"You're late Y/N." The minuscule raven haired waitress informed her, eyes never leaving her coworker's figure that came behind the counter and started punching in her number.

"Only by like 7 minutes." She waved her slip at the nonchalant looking girl before placing it back in its respective slot.

"One day it wouldn't surprise me if you just didn't show up because you got too caught up in.... something else."

Chuckling softly, Y/N walked up behind her coworker, hands coming up to ruffle the cheekbone level bob cut hair framing her unusually small face.

"Awww come on Lynn, you know I'd never leave you hanging here to attend customers by yourself. You're my bestie." Y/N assured her, playfully poking her lips out as she tried to place a kiss on her friend, the poor girl craning her neck away as she tended to dislike physical affection.

"I will squirt ketchup on you." Lynn threatened as she picked up the cherry red bottle as a last resort to get her attacker to back away. A rather noisy struggle ensued between both girls, catching the attention of the owner and cook behind the two doors, prompting her to come out and see what was the cause of such ruckus.

"Well I'll be darned. I don't remember paying you youngsters to simply slack off and behave like the hooligans you are." The middle aged woman spoke up, her thick accent becoming more prominent. Although she had a stern look and hands placed at her hips, the girls knew she was not in reality angry at them.

Looking over at the recently arrived girl, the owner closed her eyes and sighed deeply when she took in the attire she was wearing: low cut white tank, ripped denim shorts that left little to the imagination if she bent down, fishnet tights with a few holes in them, and her beloved denim jacket that was almost always on Y/N's body.

"I swear to god, Y/N , everytime I see you wear them rags you call clothes, I feel like my body is about to collapse. Why must you insist on dressing like a common street worker?"

Y/N wasn't at all offended by her words, having grown used to and becoming fond of her boss's abrupt, direct and honest manner of speaking.

"Gotta start looking the part if I'm going to dedicate my life to the occupation." She giggled at her own joke, resulting in the older woman taking the rag off her apron and smacking her with it.

"This little runt, talking nonsense like that- get your ass back in there and change into your uniform. Can't have you prancing around here in those skimpy clothes and have all these men that come here say disrespectful things about you. Nuh uh, not to my girls." She shook her head.

"Yes Miss Audrey." Complying with the woman's wishes, she pushed open the swing doors leading to the back and quickly made her way to the corner where all the employee's cubicles were located. Grabbing the necessary items, she turned and went inside the bathroom to change into her uniform, consisting of a knee length crimson red dress, which she had actually altered so it would be shorter and display her thighs more, the cap sleeves slightly puffed up and the torso part had a trail of white buttons going all the way up to the modest v-neckline, usually most buttons were left undone so her cleavage would shamelessly peak out. Exchanging her black Doc Martens in favor of her white Nike sneakers, Y/N tied her apron around her waist, making sure it was as tight as possible so it would accentuate her curves and give her body a more flattering appearance. As she made her way out, she quickly piled her hair up before securing it with one of the many elastics she kept around her wrists, leaving out a few tendrils to fall on her temples.

Coming back out to start her daily work, she stood in front of Lynn, who merely spared her an unamused glance.

"How do I look?" Y/N asked.

"Like a total slut." Her friend answered in her usually rude way.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed a spray bottle and a rag. Making her way over to the table that had just finished being used, she quickly picked up the plates and glass, bringing them back over to where Lynn was, who took them so she could wash them in the sink. Spraying the top of the marble piece, she had began her task of wiping down the table when the ringing of the bell signaled new customers had arrived, and rowdy ones at that too.

"Damn! Is today's special fluffy sponge cake? Cause I would sure love a piece of that ass."

Y/N recognized that annoying voice even from miles away, belonging to none other than one of her old classmates, Jung Wooyoung, whom she considered a friend, if he didn't manage to irk her too much. Turning around, she of course wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by his crew of equally idiotic and adrenaline junkie friends, whom she had to admit were pleasant and fun to hang out with.

"Sit your asses down already, I'll be over in a minute to take your order." She told them before resuming her previous task, earning a scoff from the most dramatic of the group.

"Fine customer service! Don't think you'll be getting a tip from me." His words made her nearly burst into a fit of giggles.

"Wooyoung please, you never ever tip whenever you come. None of you, except Yunho." It kinda saddened her that said male unfortunately wasn't there with them at the moment.

"He doesn't tip you, he tips short stack over there." His friend with cat like eyes pointed towards Lynn, who upon overhearing him held up a rather explicit finger in his direction.

"I'll poison your food San." She threatened with a sing song tone.

"Like I wouldn't know that you already spit on it." San spat back, sticking his tongue out in his immature and infantile fashion.

"Can you guys hurry up and order already? I'm starving and we gotta head to the tracks as early as possible." The fiery red haired male known as Song Mingi blurted out, fingers tapping impatiently against the top of the table.

"If little miss g-string would care to hop her luscious ass over here, maybe we could."

Strutting over to where they sat, Y/N harshly threw the dirty rag on Wooyoung's face, causing a faint grunt to come out of his mouth.

"No matter how many times you mention my ass, I'm still not letting you tap it." She firmly stated, making Wooyoung slightly purse his lips outwards in a disappointed grimace.

"So anygays-" Mingi began.

"Umm I think you mean anyways." San corrected him.

Leaning in towards him, Mingi locked eyes on the shorter male and stared him down with an intimidating glare.

"Did I stutter Choi?"

San immediately shook his head rapidly. With a victory smile, Mingi reclined back in his seat.

"I'm just going to get the breakfast platter with some orange juice."

Y/N couldn't stifle her snort when he said his choice of drink, the other two men looking away in embarrassment.

"You've been drinking orange juice since you were in grade school Mingles, don't you think you outta start taking something more grown up? Like coffee?" San suggested and Mingi did not appreciate it.

"Coming from the one who still brings a plushie to sleep with him, your suggestion holds no value or power." He retorted.

"OK SHIBER IS NOT A PLUSHIE, HE'S FAMILY YOU JACKASS!" San sprinted up from his seat, nearly leaning across to grab Mingi by the color, but he was held back by Wooyoung.

Lynn, who had thus far stayed quiet, promptly came up with a spray bottle and consequently doused the untamed boy on his face.

"Bad kitty, bad kitty." She reprimanded him, unable to resist the opportunity to attack her long time frenemy.

"Lynn!" Y/N looked at her with surprise.

"You're welcome." Lynn replied rather monotone before going back to her place behind the counter like she didn't just spray San with disinfecting water.

"There's too many germs going around anyways..." She muttered under her breath.

Without any further interruptions, aside from the rumbling coming out of the boys' stomachs, they finished ordering what they wanted and Y/N sent it over so they could be prepared. Not wanting to be near their loud asses, Y/N went back over to where Lynn was, peeking over to see what she was currently reading in the magazine she held.

"What you reading?" She casually inquired.

"Horoscope section." Y/N wasn't surprised, her friend tended to be into more mystical, eccentric and rather.....extreme with her taste in fashion and music. If Y/N was the one who turned heads for her scandalous attire, Lynn was the one people turned away from in fear when they saw how she dressed. It was a sight that truly made both of them laugh at people's foolishness, well at least made Y/N laugh. Her friend rarely had any other expression plastered on that wasn't utter disdain for society and life.

Unexpectedly, another customer came in. Both girls looked at each other in confusion when neither of them recognized him. Their town was rather small with few people living there, so they deduced that he must be a traveler who probably got lost on his route. He himself looked around nervously, eyes barely lifting up. Y/N couldn't help herself as she took in his perfect face. Big, round eyes with crystal clear orbs, small face with a V-line jaw, perfectly sculpted nose with no sign of defects, skin smooth and blemish free, he looked like a prince out of a fairytale. He was incredibly pretty, yet stood there so awkwardly that it was almost comical.

"Hey Yeosang! You made it! Sit down! I ordered for you in advanced!" Wooyoung surprised both girls when it seemed he knew the stranger and even waved him over to where they sat. The other two boys also seem familiarized with him and welcomed him to sit with them, chatting up a storm already with him.

"Who's that?" Lynn was the one to finally ask out loud.

"Beats me.....but he sure is adorable."

Noticing the way her lips curled upwards, Lynn could already see the wheels inside Y/N's head turning.

"And I bet you're going to go over there and find out- aaand there you go." She ended up answering her own deduction as she watched Y/N happily walked over with a more bright expression on her face, that soon soured when her boss came out of the kitchen and beat her over to the table, laying down several plates of food.

"I knew as soon as I saw the orders that it had to be the lot of you." She scoffed softly as she looked at the boys' grinning faces.

"You know us Miss Audrey, we wouldn't ever think of eating anywhere else but here. You're the best cook in all of town." Wooyoung praised her with a sparkling charm that could have fooled anyone else but not the robust woman in front of him.

"Boy stop trying to tickle my ears, I've known you since you were in your soiled diapers being carried around by your mama, running around and creating chaos anywhere you went. Flattery may work on them poor girls you play with but me? I can see right through ruffians like you."

Turning her head to finally notice the new addition to the group, she looked him up and down.

"Boy who might you be?" She questioned him, earning the ears of the girls nearby to listen in for any valuable information.

"I'm..... Yeosang Kang, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, tilting his head slightly down when he said that.

"He just moved into town this week! He's the new guy who is going to work with us down at the car shop and help on the race track!" San enthusiastically shouted, making the older woman cringe.

"I may be old, but I still haven't gone deaf for you to yell in such a way boy. So...." She crossed her arms and looked at Yeosang again.

"You a racer too?"

Now the girls, particularly Y/N, were more interested in what his response would be.

"I- yes. So it seems." The poor boy looked so flustered, obviously being more of a soft spoken individual, contrasting starkly to the other 3 boys.

Miss Audrey let out a seemingly displeased hum at his answer.

"As if we needed anymore hooligans running wild. We already got enough with the 3 Stooges over here."

The girls couldn't help but snicker at their boss's words, always having a blast whenever she put the boys back in their place. They however looked displeased, glaring at them intensely.

"Shouldn't you both be off somewhere cleaning dishes or making sandwiches?"

Snatching one of the knifes, Lynn held it up and was about to jump over, but Y/N came up in front of her.

"Lynn, no. Just calm down ok? You know they're just being idiots." Y/N reminded her.

Grumbling something in a foreign language no one knew for sure if it was real or not, Lynn put the knife back, squinting her eyes at them before turning around to not look at them again. Y/N giggled softly, finding it absolutely cute whenever her friend lost her cool and collected form cause it reminded her of a chihuahua, barking and yelping at anything larger than itself trying to establish dominance.

Noticing that in her display of aggression, Lynn had inadvertently knocked over a few of the brochures that were on display for people to take, Y/N stooped down and proceeded to pick them up in a casual manner. Standing up, she neatly arranged them properly, making sure they all faced the same direction and the sides weren't poking out anywhere. Feeling as though someone had been watching her all along, she looked at the table of boys, half expecting Wooyoung's smug grin to greet her, but she was completely wrong as it was none other than the new guy who seemed unable to keep his eyes off her figure, staring intently at the length of her skirt. When he realized she noticed, his eyes went wide, cheeks burning up with utter embarrassment. Y/N however seemed unbothered by this. Wanting to test something, she pretended to accidentally drop one of the pamphlets. Bending over, she made sure he could get a perfect glimpse of her cleavage, if he payed enough attention, he'd be able to see that she was in fact, not wearing any bra. Coming back up, Y/N looked over to see the results, smirking when the agape mouth of Yeosang confirmed to her that he had indeed noticed everything.

"Oh sweetheart, you're gonna be too easy..." She had already made up in her mind that Yeosang would be her next target, and she had to put her plan in action. Placing the brochures down, she was about to go over and start flirting with him, until a familiar voice called for her.

"Y/N! There you are!"

She internally groaned when she heard him, wondering why on earth did he not get the hint of ditching him like that, especially when he very well knew about the reputation she had. She tried ignoring him, but of course, he had had to be the persistent type, no doubt thinking he was going to have a different ending than the rest before him.

"I thought you'd be here. You could have told me you were going to be gone early. I would have made you breakfast."

Knowing she had to say something, Y/N grabbed her pad and gave him the fakest smile she was capable of donning.

"Hi, what can we get started for you today? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Coffee to start off with?"

The trio of friends, having no choice but to witness the interaction due to it happening right in front of them, snickered amongst themselves.

"Oh shit. He's in for it." San whispered lowly.

The boy obviously looked extremely confused, his smile lightly falling off, but then returning to its hopeful state.

"Why are you acting like this candy bear? Pretending like you don't know me?" When he tried to reach a hand to pull her close, the girl simply pushed him away with one of her fingers.

"Look, clearly you're too stupid to understand so let me spell it out in a language you can understand." Letting out a tired sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sour look displaying on her pretty face.

"We had a nice time together, and last night was... average to put it nicely."

"Oh man. That was a total burn." Mingi couldn't help but snort, some of the orange juice being spit back into his glass.

"But that was all it was and all it's ever going to be. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just go back home to your Star Trek figurines and watch the latest episode of Thunder Cats?"

The not so discreet snickering coming from the table behind them only made the humiliation for the man multiply significantly. Turning red with utter despair and rage, he quickly brushed past Y/N rather brusquely.

"Fucking bitch." She heard him mutter under his breath, a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing among many others.

"Oh god. Homegirl struck again." Wooyoung laughed, swirling his milkshake in his hand.

"Ayo why you gotta do Thunder Cats like that? It's actually pretty entertaining." San commented.

Looking over at the time, the guys quickly stood up, dropping their share of bills onto the table.

"You guys get paid today too right? Come meet up with us at the track." Wooyoung suggested.

"Why on earth would we want to go see your greasy, oil smelling ass after dealing for nearly an hour with you already?" Lynn questioned him, eyes never peering up from her magazine.

"Because Yunho would be there?"

Still she didn't respond, the only movement made was her finger turning the page.

"Bro we been knew she don't give two shits about him." Mingi reminded them.

"Because we're going to the drive in theater after work, they're playing a horror movie."

Lifting her gaze, Lynn closed the magazine, although still stone faced, her eyes seemed to brighten up.

"My interest has been greatly piqued." Her lips showed the faintest whisper of a smile that gave a rather eerie and chilling feel down the people's spines.

"Maybe we should rethink inviting Satan's offspring." San leaned in towards Mingi, shivering significantly.

"Great! So we'll catch you gals later."

The boys quickly dispersed themselves, save Yeosang who still sat quietly, keeping mostly to himself. His fingers fidgeted with the half drunk cup he was holding, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Looking up, he was attempting to work up the courage to talk to Y/N, but before he could even get the chance to gather strength, the owner came out from the back, whispering a few orders to her and gesturing for her to go tend to a situation in the kitchen. With a defeated sigh, he got up to go join the rest of the gang outside who were waiting for him. Slumping his hands in the pockets of his pants, he moved out of the booth with a solemn gaze.

"Hey."

His steps came to a screeching halt when he heard Y/N call out to him. Looking over, she smiled sweetly in his direction.

"Hope I see you later." With a flirtatious wink, she bid him goodbye as she disappeared into the back.

Yeosang stood there stunned momentarily, replaying her words over and over again in his mind, pondering endlessly at their meaning.

"Little pussy cat sure got you brain dead, didn't she?"

Startled by the unexpected voice next to him, he jumped when the face of the kind yet stern old lady studied him carefully. With a disapproving shake of her head, she decided it'd be best to warn him before he started getting ideas in his head.

"Listen, you seem like a sweet and sensible young man, so it's best for you to listen to me and stay away from that darn girl. Don't let them sugar coated lips of hers sweet talk themselves into your heart. You'll just end up heart broken like all the lovers she's had."

Picking up some of the plates, she gave him one last look, pointing an accusatory finger at him to get her point across.

"She's dangerous." Finally saying what she needed to say, Miss Audrey headed back with plates in her arms, slapping away Lynn's hands when they attempted to pry them off her, barking instructions at her to watch the counter and leave her be.

"Dangerous....." Yeosang thought to himself, the warning the good intended woman gave him sinking deep in his mind. Although he took her words to heart, something about the way she glanced at him pulled at the strings in his chest, taking his breath away when he remembered the risque position she was in that purposely allowed him to view more than he should have. That memory tinted his cheeks pink, lips unable to suppress a small smile. He knew that he should heed the old woman's advice.

But he had to admit that he loved danger and the thrill it came with.........

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @brie02 @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @hanatiny @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @mingismoon @rainteez02

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Heyy can I request a 3rd part for Zhong x mage reader where they hopefully realize their feelings for each other? Feel free to end it off & add as much fluff & smut if you wish (*^ω^*)

Thanks for waiting anon, lol I just realize that this was almost the same as the previous ask so I decided to do a reader's POV continuing from where we left off last time.

So please enjoy the fourth part in the In Pursuit of Series: 1,2,3

In Pursuit of Love

Summary: You fell in love slowly, unknowingly, and when you had realized it, your love for him had already sunk into the marrow of your bones.

--

1.

Falling back together was easier than the time the two of you spent weeks apart from each other. You found it easier to fall back to your morning routine with Zhongli around than it was to relearn how you lived before. And somehow the two of you had grown closer, more attuned to each other’s thoughts that sometimes there was no need to talk further. It was the intimacy of being known, and by the archons you were drunk on it.

You lived freely and happily, as if all the burdens you had were gone. With Zhongli by your side, it felt like the world had become brighter. Spending time with him, starting and ending the days with him became so natural that you didn’t notice what was already there from the start.

It stood to reason that you didn’t put much thought when Zhongli woke you up with his tongue down your throat or his hands groping your now exposed chest. It meant that when Zhongli took off your clothes in the morning, placing kisses on your neck and leaving visible marks on your skin, you merely thought he was just getting things started to transfer his energy for your continued survival.

It meant that you didn’t think much when you found yourself returning the favor, opening your legs for him, riding his cock early in the morning and not bothering to stifle your moans because Zhongli told you he liked hearing how much you wanted his cock, how slutty you acted when he thrusted his cock in your pussy until it was raw.

You had thought all of his words as dirty talk, not actually carrying any meaning beyond making the sex pleasurable for both of you. And today was no exception, you woke up with Zhongli’s mouth sucking on your nipples, leaving new bruises on top of last night’s marks.

Your pussy was filled with fresh cum and you could taste his cum on the back of your throat. You idly wondered how long had Zhongli been fucking you before you woke up, but such thoughts were thrown in the back burner when you felt his fingers tease your clit and toy with your cum-filled pussy.

“Nnnn!”

With a pop, Zhongli stops sucking your nipples and kisses you on your mouth, tongue entangling with yours.

--

“Good morning” He greeted you with a soft and gentle smile that was at odds with his lewd acts.

“Good morning” You greeted him shyly as you spread your legs wide, and silently asked for his cock. You wanted to be awake this time when he filled you up.

For someone who was fucking you for an indeterminate length of time, Zhongli had a lot of stamina. His cock easily penetrated you again, geo cuffs forming like an absent thought on your wrists as he went in and out of you. His cum acted as a lubricant to ease his cock as it filled you to the brim, stretching your walls and giving you a pleasant burn.

Your ample breasts jiggled from the force of being fucked over and over. Your pussy felt raw but even so you couldn’t help but want more, Zhongli’s dick had ruined you for everyone else. You were quite sure that no one would be able to bring you over the edge the way Zhongli did.

Your entire body felt warm from the lust and the odd feeling that came from Zhongli’s archon energy. Before you could even ask him about it, your thoughts were interrupted by the hard thrust of his cock that had your body arching and feeling the warmth of his thick cum.

Zhongli pulled out and let the rest of his cum shoot on your body, some landing on your face and open mouth.

“Good girl.”

You smiled at him sweetly.

2.

For some reason, it became a common occurrence for you to head to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor with a homemade lunch for Zhongli, on days when you had no case to solve or you had reached a dead end. Today was a latter kind of day, there were no breakthroughs on the Chasm case which Qixing was gracious enough to not hasten you.

Especially since they were aware that you had landed a life threatening curse on yourself.

So now that you had gotten used to spending your lunch time with him, it made you realize that everyone in the Parlor was already familiar with you. You no longer limited yourself to chatting with Hu Tao or the Ferry Lady when Zhongli was busy with his job. Which was odd, now that you’ve thought about it. For all of the claims of your genius and the surprising amount of time you spent with children, you were never good at people.

Or to be more precise, good at keeping people. Your relationships with everyone you’ve met had always been so-so, you could rely on them for information you need, or calling in for a favor but if you could never truly trust yourself with them. You don't know when to call people friends or how to keep the ones you make, you suck at maintaining relationships and the only ones you’ve been able to maintain are from people who are surprisingly stubborn or sticky.

Ones who didn’t mind that you never wrote regularly or you came and went through their life like a breeze of wind. They were people who didn’t mind rebuilding friendship again and again, assuring you in their own silent way that you were wanted and welcome.

Which meant that the present relationship you had with the employees of Wangsheng was an odd change, a welcome one, but odd nonetheless. This was how Zhongli found you, contemplating in silence, in his office.

“Are you alright, dear?” He asked, worry marring his beautiful features.

“Hmmm...yeah, just thinking” You answered with an awkward smile and a heavy feeling in your heart that you can’t quite explain.

“You don’t have to, you know” Zhongli said, reassuring you.

“I really don’t know” You joked with him.

“Talk to the others if you aren’t up to it” He explained and to anyone else it would felt like a slight, a terrible jab at your inadequacy that you never quite got the hang of.

But it was Zhongli.

Zhongli who willingly shoulders the gossip about your relationship with him, who cares for you so deeply that he can give you himself for an indefinite period of time, Zhongli who simply wants to stay by your side and thinks the world of you, who believes that you are good.

And that’s enough to take off the sting from the reminder of your flawed humanity, makes your body relax and you find yourself leaning into his hand that somehow made its way to your face.

You nuzzle into it, a show of affection that makes you feel embarrassed but the weight of Zhongli’s affection, this intimacy from whole acceptance and being known, was an addictive warmth that you feared losing.

“Thank you.”

You hope that Zhongli can hear everything those two words encompass.

3.

The changes stemming from your relationship with Zhongli, mainly this odd but welcome change of being connected to people, and staying in a place for a long while meant that inevitably you end up having a permanent address people can find you.

It was novel to you, the idea of a place being stuck to your name. You said as much to Zhongli, during one of those rare times he had no work and decided to be with you for an entire day.

“How do your friends write to you then?”

“They don’t or well they post a commission to the guild and I pay for the reward” You told him truthfully before recounting the first time one of your friends had done so and it had involved a high ranking adventurer, the guild master of the adventurer’s guild and ending with an entire map of Mare Jivari.

“What were you doing there?!” Zhongli had asked scandalized.

“I was curious and there was no known map of it, so I thought ‘huh? Guess this would give me a whole lot of mora if I did this!’ how was I supposed to know one of my friends would end up pregnant during that time and wanted me to be a godmother?” You replied, slightly offended and amused at the look on his face.

Which naturally resulted in Zhongli extracting a promise from you to never go to dangerous places without him, ever again. And he was so earnest and so seriously worried about it that your grin slid off your face and you gave him your word.

Which then resulted in you feeling slightly off kilter about it. The thing is you never thought that Zhongli would care for you this much, for all of the fucking and the tender moments between you two, you’ve always believed that there was a line somewhere.

A line that dictated the end of his care for you and the beginning of his indifference. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe he wanted to stay by your side, it was just that you’ve always thought he meant it figuratively like he wanted to be kept up-to-date with you when your curse is finally lifted.

Because the thought of Zhongli, coming along with your adventures, travelling with you leaves you just slightly, very slightly, perplexingly happy. It makes you grab his hand and intertwine it together, and Zhongli doesn’t mind, doesn’t care for this display of affection and instead encourages it.

He squeezes your hand twice, and gives you a smile that assures you that you are wanted. A part of you dares to hope that you’d find your home in this place, here with Zhongli and if not, you’re content with him being a place you can return to, a place of reprieve from the life of a traveler.

And this leads to your few friends addressing letters to Zhongli’s place, adventurers from around the world used as glorified messengers for your equally eccentric friends, sending packages or cases in your way. Sometimes, asking for advice or a consultation but more often than not, a mere teasing letter inquiring about your daily life and the new found changes they’ve seen.

“It’s nice,” You told Zhongli, in the middle of reading one of your letters, “having this regular contact with them.”

You don’t notice the way Zhongli pauses in his cooking, just to look at you and your soft fragile smile.

“You can tell them to send their letters here, and I can always go deliver them to you” He offered.

You laughed, thinking that he didn’t mean it but nonetheless happy with his kindness, “If you keep doing stuff like that, you might just make an honest woman out of me!”

And Zhongli says nothing beyond a smile, and you let the moment pass. Willing your heart to calm down and not letting yourself hope for too much, you continued to read your letters even though your mind often drifts off to Zhongli’s “offer”.

Later that night, as you laid in his arms, you began to wonder if the two of you had blurred the lines of friendship and something more.

4.

Sex with Zhongli was always fun and just as exciting as the first time you did it with him. As you haven’t found a cure to your curse yet nor an alternative that didn’t involve an adepti, you felt indebted to Zhongli’s generosity on being your life support for an indefinite period of time.

It meant that sometimes when Zhongli did something that only lovers would, you were content to let it pass. Considering how much of his essence you needed, you were willing to let him enjoy you however he wanted.

It meant that on certain occasions where Zhongli’s libido was unbelievably high, you’d let yourself be led to a secluded to corner of a mountain, a road, or even Liyue’s backstreets to have your panties pushed to the side and be fucked by his thick cock.

You’ve learned how to muffle your moans as his cock relentlessly thrusted into your pussy, hands deftly freeing your breasts from its confines and playing with it. Squeezing and pulling and pushing it until it felt overly stimulated from the attention. Your body learned how to arch itself in the right way, ensuring that his cock repeatedly slammed its head into your g-spot.

The only change between then and now was that Zhongli had gained a preference on muffling your moans with his mouth, kissing you fervently as you milked his cock with your pussy. His kisses was intense, it made your knees weak and felt too intimate between two people fucking for necessity. Which often led to the two of you kissing for a long period of time, even when Zhongli rubs your pussy through the fabric of your panties or simply because he felt like it.

Zhongli was an excellent kisser, that much you could tell from the steadily growing frequency of him simply kissing you, without it leading to sex or having your pussy eaten out. And maybe you were biased with your opinion considering you’ve never kissed anyone other than Zhongli but you were quite sure that he gave the best kisses.

This thought only became more prevalent with each lingering kiss he gave you, the warmth that left your lips tingling. It made you want for something you don’t quite understand or dare to understand. Zhongli made your knees weak, he made you want things you’ve previously given up on, he made you want for a home you could return to.

Zhongli was changing you into someone you weren’t quite sure you truly welcomed and yet you couldn’t help but want and want. Selfishly wanting to tie him to you, to tie yourself to him.

“Zhongli?” Your voice trembled, soft and scared.

Even so in your eyes, he remained smiling, calm and patient as he gently took strands of your hair and kissed its tip.

“It’s fine, I can wait.”

You closed your eyes and bowed your head. The sound of his footsteps gently fading away as he walked away made you feel relieved and aching at the same time.

5.

Despite sleeping separately for the first time since you were cursed, Zhongli’s affection for you didn’t change. Except that he no longer gave you kisses outside of foreplay or sex even still his affectionate looks and smile remained.

It left you disappointed and yet a clarity of mind and heart.

Ultimately, you understood that Zhongli was doing this to give you space, a breather to allow you to make your decision without any bias or undue influence. This allowed you to realize that you had been deceiving yourself for a while now.

Even so you still didn’t want to voice it. You couldn’t even dare to speak of it in the privacy of your mind. So you did what you always did when everything felt constricting. You ran away.

The benefits from being a mage was that you could use the teleportation devices scattered throughout Teyvat. Which meant that it was quite easy for you to slip in and out of 7 nations without anyone knowing. So it was really quite easy for you to get out of Liyue Harbor, use the device in Mt. Tianheng and go to Snezhnaya.

The surprise and alarmed look of Tartaglia was enough to quell your nerves.

--

You raise a bottle of your finest fire water and said, “Let’s drink!”

2 bottles later and you’ve unloaded everything between you and Zhongli to Tartaglia. You sat across from him, legs spread and stretched out while his fireplace blazes on the side and engulfing both of you in warm orange light.

“So you’re in love” He smirks, amused and equally drunk, comfortably leaning in the plush seat of his tufted back armchair.

“I am not” You denied, sinking further into your seat and ignoring Tartaglia’s loud and uninhibited laughter.

“I just like the no strings attached sex and affection” You clarified, “You’ve known about me for a long time, I don’t do well in long relationships.”

Tartaglia takes a swig of his own bottle of firewater, “You do, we’ve been friends for a long time” He smiles at you “you’re just afraid of commitment.”

You look at him, face blank but eyes showing your reluctant agreement and Tartaglia leans towards you, “You’re afraid aren’t you, of what Zhongli would do in the future, about you, me, the Abyss and everything it entails, and Celestia.”

“Maybe.”

“You were never one to let your fears rule you” His voice becomes soft, the unspoken affection bleeding through his words, “so what exactly are you afraid of losing once you acknowledge it?”

“I hate it when you aren’t sticking to your ‘only cares about a good fight’ persona” You groaned out, sitting up straight “you’re lucky I see you as family or I’d curse you right now.”

Tartaglia laughs and ruffles your hair, “Go to sleep and then return to him tomorrow.”

He gets up and makes his way to his bedroom, before he could leave the room you spoke, “Thank you.”

From behind you, Tartaglia smiled and said nothing as he continued on his way. There were some things that no longer needed to be said between two friends.

--

You sat on the edge of the cliff in Mt. Tianheng, watching the sunrise as Liyue Harbor slowly comes to life. You weren’t quite ready to face Zhongli yet.

You wanted to steel your nerves, calm your heart and properly arrange your words. Despite the carefree nature you showed, when it came to the matters of the heart, you always treaded carefully. Gone were the days you fell in love recklessly, accidentally and unknowingly hurting others and being hurt in return.

You wanted to face Zhongli, sincerely, to give him the utmost consideration for all that he had done for your sake. You wanted to make sure, to truly ascertain that what you felt was real and not a mere byproduct of the curse you had been saddled with. Zhongli deserved to be loved for who he was, as he is, and not what he gave up for you. To love him out of gratitude was to trample upon his sincerity, and you didn’t want that.

So you stalled, you waited, you didn’t rush. You simply and slowly worked out what you truly thought, what you felt. By the time the sun was high up in the sky, you stood up and patted your clothes. You slowly made your way down, entering Liyue Harbor, greeting the merchants and the townsfolk that knew you.

Each step that you took made you nervous, despite that you continued to make preparations, you pre-ordered a take out from Wanmin Restaurant, buying Zhongli’s favorite dish, Crystal Shrimp, and Universal Peace.

“I guess, Mr. Zhongli isn’t going to be Liyue’s most desired bachelor anymore?” Chef Mao joked.

You blinked and then laugh softly, “Was it that obvious?”

Chef Mao smiled, fatherly and nostalgic, and then he spoke to you with a wiseness that only came from suffering the vicissitudes of life, “There are things that can’t be concealed easily, one is indifference and the other love.”

Surprised, you stared at Chef Mao who only laughed boisterously, and with his fatherly tone added, “I’m not blind, and I was young once! I can tell if a man is interested or not.”

With a wink, Chef Mao waved you away and you shook your head in amusement as you walked away after paying in full. You slowly made your way to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, taking in the sight of Liyue Harbor in its busiest time of the day.

And as you neared the bridge in front of the parlor, you saw him. Walking slowly over the bridge, a rain of red maple leaves fell as he passed, you slowly halted and stared at him.

Thump thump

Your eyes met his and your heart that was moved by him, began to beat just a little bit faster. You smiled, gentle and soft, filled with unabashed adoration for him and slightly ran towards him. Zhongli smiled at you, eyes reflecting the deep emotions that he had for you.

Time slowed down and ran fast.

“I’m home” You told him as you hugged him and buried your face to his chest.

His arms gently and tightly wrapped around you, “Welcome back”.

There were still things that needed to be said, confessions to be made but for now the two of you didn’t need to do that yet. Not when both of you had finally reached the same place, hearts beating in sync.

+1

“Hey,” You called out to Zhongli “Do you remember the temple that got me cursed?”

“Of course” Zhongli replied, face stern and serious as he remembered that disastrous day.

“Well, I finally found out the story behind it” You revealed as you comforted him, hand gently patting his.

Zhongli relaxed, tense frame slumping a bit in the privacy of his shared home with you. He pulled you into his lap, embracing you and softly asked, “tell me?”

You hummed and began your tale,

“There used to be an immortal, a scrap collector, who was Heaven’s beloved official, and” You paused dramatically “there was a ghost king, a great calamity that the heavenly officials feared. The scrap immortal had the world’s terrible luck, he would experience all sorts of misfortune and tragedy while the ghost king had the world’s best luck, he would never lose a gamble nor a bet.”

You looked at Zhongli, teasing and eyes twinkling, “And these two unlikely beings were each other’s dao partner.”

Zhongli choked, “My dear…”

You laughed and laughed, “surprised? I was too! Ah~ Zhongli that temple was the one the ghost king, Hua Cheng, the Xuè Yǔ Tàn Huā built for his beloved, his highness Xiè Lián. It was the only surviving relic of the place where the infamous Ghost City was located.”

Zhongli blinked, “Then we entered the Ghost Realm?”

You nodded, “Yeah, we ended up triggering an old protection array. I ended up being the receiver of the curse since I was careless when I was fighting, I damaged the statue of his highness and the ghost king punished me for it.”

Seeing Zhongli frowning, you hurriedly appeased him, “Don’t worry! Those two have been gone for a long time now! What was left in there was just a particularly powerful emotion powered curse! So don’t go fighting with them!”

Zhongli sighed, but the frown on his face didn’t go away, “Then your curse?”

“With or without your cum, The curse would have eventually faded away.”

You laughed at his blushing face and decided to reveal one more thing, “Zhongli~ Did you know that when gambling with the ghost king, the only way to get what you want was to pass a test?”

Forehead to forehead, you stared into his eyes, through his heart and to his soul, voice filled with wonder and love, “If you can move his highness, Xiè Lián’s heart with pity, the Ghost King would give you what you want even if you had lost the debt.”

“I-”

You cut Zhongli off with a gentle kiss, and then said, “That day, I heard your prayers, and begged them to let you go. To let me suffer the curse alone, to let me suffer the unbearable pain. Because I couldn’t bear to have you suffer the consequences of my actions.”

“I can suffer any humiliation but my heart can’t bear the thought of you being humiliated” You told him, this secret of yours, the one you kept close to your heart.

--

You didn’t know when you began to fall for him, maybe it was when you had brazenly teased him, “Osmanthus wine, I’ll give this to you so don’t be a stick in the mud!”

Or maybe it was when he had asked, visibly worried, “Are you not afraid of being struck down like the sinners of Khaenri’ah?”

Or maybe it was when he had lowered himself to the ground and cried, “I just want to save her alone.”

There were so many moments that could have started it all but you knew when he had completely taken grasp of your heart.

“Please, let me walk by your side, protecting you and your belief.”

His words that day, fell into your heart like a rock that fell into a pond, creating ripples as it sank down on the bottom and stayed. He had, without you noticing, walked step by step into your heart, and made himself at home in there.

You would forever answer the calls of adventure, the never ending stories the world was waiting to tell you, but you also knew that you would always, without fail, return to Zhongli. To your home and one day you would settle your old bones with him, weathered hands holding each other, and greet each day side by side.

[forcefullyawake]

This is for @cupcake-rogue’s like a virgin collab!

Denki x F! Reader

Warnings: None, tooth rotting fluff, and a suggestive ending. 

Summary: Sometimes the right person runs into you. Literally. Other times it’s a hero who’s not watching where he’s going.

WC: 1.9k

Denki Kaminari doesn’t do being nervous. 

He’s a hero, a pro, top ten. He worked his ass off during UA, his internships, did everything right, shed his jokester ways, and in the first hero rankings he was in? He placed higher thank even Bakugo. He’s impressive, he thinks, tall and blonde, having grown into himself after those first few awkward years. The point is he’s not nervous around women anymore, doesn’t stutter over his words or make inappropriate comments. He’s cool, mature, a catch for any woman. 

Until, that is, he quite literally runs into you.

“I’m fucking late,” Denki announces to nobody- it’s not like anybody stayed over the night before. It’s a true testament to who he is now that his morning routine can be essentially cut in half and almost nothing goes wrong during it. His hero costume is not only easy to get on, but something that works well with his usual wardrobe, so that he can be out the door in under twenty minutes for times like these. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” He mutters to himself, finally getting all the buttons into place right when the elevator opens up to the ground floor. It’s impressive, actually, that he manages to run into you. With a quirk like his, he’s learned to be constantly aware of his surroundings so nobody gets shocked accidentally. Today, however, he’s not thinking straight and runs directly into you, knocking you (and your paperwork) to the ground. 

He stops dead in his tracks, wanting more than anything to start apologizing, helping you pick things up. You know, things any normal person or hero would do but he finds himself stuck in place. You’re… hot, for lack of a better word. He’ll think of some later. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something about you that has him immediately bewitched- mind, body, and soul, just like that. You’re standing now, a scowl on your face and- hey you’re snapping your fingers for some reason, maybe he should listen in.

“Hello? Is anybody any there?” Your voice is understandably irritated, looking him up and down quickly before huffing. “Whatever. Watch where you’re going next time, jerk.” You spin away from him, taking his hopes and dreams right with you. But you walk into his apartment building, and through the glass doors that stand between you he sees you walk to the manager- so you’re either gonna live there or work there. Either way he has a second chance. 

His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and a quick glance tells him it’s Mineta, demanding to know where he is- is he okay? Was there a villain attack? Denki shoots off a quick text saying he’s just overslept before hurrying on his way. 

It’s not until later, when he’s finally in his office, that Denki realizes how he was feeling. 

For the first time, in a very long time, Denki Kaminari was nervous. All because of you.

“Stupid hero, not watching where he was stupidly going,” You mutter under your breathe before plastering on a smile when your new apartment manager steps into view. God, this place is so nice. You can’t wait to move in. You have to dropped off the signed leasing forms and then give the place one last look around before the moving trucks start coming in. 

The meeting goes smoothly, which helps ease whatever leftover tension you have from the morning. The keys are in your hands, the boxes are piling up, and your neighbor is out for the day it looks like so you can play music as loudly as you dare. Your day goes just about as well as a moving day can. You get the important things set up first- bed, tv, coffee maker. The creature comforts for when you’re inevitably exhausted tomorrow. You hear movement in the other apartment, frowning at the shared wall with how clearly you can. Hm, that might be annoying. Still, you don’t plan on turning down the music unless asked. 

Almost like clockwork you hear a knock on your door. You pause to lower the volume to a more acceptable level before opening the door, ready to introduce yourself and apologize, make a good first impression and all that only to see-

“You!” You raise an accusatory finger- at the hero who knocked you over and did nothing this morning. “You can’t be my neighbor!”

“I-” He starts, having the good sense to at least look a little sheepish now. “I’m sorry?” His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his head, making him look even more nervous but you can see his eyes looking over your shoulder to peer into your apartment. 

“Yeah, you should have said that this morning,” It holds less venom than you want, especially when you get distract by the muscles his actions put on display. Huh. Your new neighbor is incredibly built. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “Again, whatever. I turned the music down. Goodnight.” You go to close the door but his voice stops you. 

“Hold on, I wasn’t going to ask you to turn it down,” He starts, finally looking away from your apartment, “I liked it. And maybe you can play it for me now? I could help you put stuff away? Make up for this morning?”

You should say no. You’re already getting tired, you have stuff beyond packing to do tomorrow, and it’s stupid to let a complete stranger into your house. Even if he’s a pro hero. And even if he’s cute. You should tell him to get lost. Instead, you open your mouth to hear yourself say,

“Sure, come on in.”

Denki can’t believe his luck when you open your door a little wider to let him in. 

He was so sure you were going to say no- hell, even you looked a little confused when yes came out of your mouth, but he wasn’t going to question it too much. Your place already looked a lot cozier than his, with decorations half in the boxes, even. You have photos up on the walls already, pictures of people who look like you too and people who look like your friends. His own apartment is pretty sparse, just a place he can sleep and eat in. 

“Could you help me in the kitchen?” Your voice carries through the space, having left him behind. “I have some stuff that need to go onto the top shelf.” He follows blindly, biting down so hard on his lower lip it almost bleed when he sees you. You’re not doing anything scandalous, just putting dishes away but the way your arms are raised over your head have given him a glimpse at your skin where your shirt has ridden up. He can feel the blood rush south in his body, embarrassingly. 

“Stop ogling and start helping,” You snap over your shoulder, frowning at him. That snaps him out of his daze, not wanting to leave too soon despite having another early morning shift. He grabs the box you point at, and starts to place the mugs on the top shelf. They look like gifts, he thinks, all of them printed with far too many places for one person to have visited. 

“Your friends get you these?” He asks, trying to sound casually interested, not too desperate, “Or a boyfriend?” You snort at him.

“Friends, mostly, and some family,” You wait a long moment before continuing, “No boyfriends, though.” Denki internally heaves a sigh of relief. 

“I don’t get out much, with my job. But I like to pretend I do,” You say, eyeing the mugs wistfully. “How about you? You travel a lot?”

“That requires taking time off,” Denki says, frowning a little as he tries to remember his last actually relaxing day off. “But you know what they say- if you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life!”

“Oh, bullshit,” You snort out, abandoning the box you’ve been unpacking all together. “I love my job, a lot, but I have worked some days.” The tension is broken after that, with Denki asking you to elaborate and you trying to play coy until the rants just burst out of you. It’s not until your stomach gives a loud grumble that you realize neither of you have been unpacking but just talking for the past hour and a half. 

It’s just late enough that a normal dinner is out of the question, but maybe you could order something in?

“I know a good ramen place that delivers here,” Denki volunteers, grinning sheepishly. 

“Are you sure your quirk isn’t mind reading?” You tease him, just to watch him laugh. He’s pretty hot when he laughs, you think, then immediately try to squash the thought. Dinner first, crushing on a hero later.

Dinner is ordered.

Denki’s right, the ramen is good and it comes quick. The two of you slurp your soup in silence, the awkwardness returning from before. Denki seems almost unable to look at you now, for some reason. He focuses in so hard on his bowl you’re surprised it doesn’t go up in smoke. You want to ask him about it but you can’t figure out how to phrase the question. 

For his part, Denki is having an internal meltdown. When you lean forward to take a sip of the broth your shirt pulls forward just enough that he can see the swell of your breasts. It shouldn’t affect him this much, he’s been around enough, but there’s something about the white of your bra that makes his head spin, makes him feel like a virgin all over again. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him the same moment he blurts out-

“I can see your bra, I’m sorry, don’t kick me out,” All in one breath. You’re silent for a moment, and then another, and another, and Denki regrets every choice he’s made in his life until now that brought him here. You keep not saying anything and a million and one scenarios run through his head, each one worse than the next. Oh my god, what if you tell people? He’ll be known as the pervert hero, he won’t be able to work in Japan anymore, he’ll have to someplace like America or-

“Would you like to see more of it?” Your voice is soft, shy as your hands twist in the bottom of your shirt, looking at him with wide eyes. He’s sure he’s misheard you because there’s no way you’re offering what he thinks you are. 

“More?” He manages to croak out. You don’t reply, but your shirt keeps going upwards. Your shirt continues upwards until it’s off of you and Denki’s brain has finally, truly short circuited. 

You’re not sure what’s possessing you to be so bold- maybe the conversation, maybe the way the food has made you comfortably warm and a little drowsy, maybe you just wanna see what he’ll do next. It’s cute, endearing even, how his eyes can’t figure out where to look. He can’t decide if he wants to throw himself at you or away from you. 

“More,” You agree, moving closer to him on the couch, taking the bowl from his hands to set on the table in front of you. Denki stops breathing as you move even closer to him, your face swimming in front of his eyes. “Tell me if I should stop?”

“Never,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours, tasting like a promise, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s so easy to fall into him, like you’ve known him forever, like this is as easy as breathing. 

It’s sunrise, somehow. Denki is still there, blissfully unaware as you watch him sleep. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t watch where he was going the previous morning. 

Now, though, you wouldn’t mind running into him again. 

[darkpoisonouslove]

Hi, can you please do Bloom and Icy 1,3,7,9,12,13,14,19,20,25,28,29,30?

1. Who is the most affectionate?

Bloom. Icy likes it but initiating it will take a little longer. Especially since she is still trying to pretend affection disgusts her to keep her reputation of a heartless witch intact. It is totally not working because she is weak for Bloom but it will take her some time to admit it out loud even though she is totally aware of it.

3. Most common argument?

Who is hotter. Totally initiated by their friends (aka Stella and Darcy), totally not serious... until it becomes serious. The fun thing is that they’ve argued it different ways - sometimes insisting that the other is hotter, sometimes insisting that they are the hotter one. It totally depends on how the others will set it up for them. They haven’t seriously fought over it, though. Bloom can make Icy melt at any moment and Icy has all the icebreakers to fix any potential drama situation. (I am not sorry for any of this XD)

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Icy starts looking for ways to end the confrontations between them without having to kill Bloom. It majorly pisses her off because a) it’s getting in the way of her plans and b) she has to make herself look progressively dumber and more incompetent because Winx seem to lose brain cells as time goes on and pull increasingly dumb stunts. She is sure anyone with half a brain would have figured out that she is doing it on purpose but Winx are too busy fighting them to figure it out and Bloom is super dense about it (probably because she’s in denial).

Bloom finds herself no longer on Diaspro whenever she shows up. Instead of being jealous, Bloom finds herself drifting into musings about what would have happened if it had actually been Icy in disguise instead of Diaspro. Somehow all those scenarios end up with her and Icy experiencing some major sexual tension (in that fight and any other) and they end up kissing and more aggressively. She doesn’t even feel guilty because Sky was lying to her anyway. She just can’t comprehend why Icy of all people and that is why she denies having feelings for her even though she knows it deep down.

9. Who worries the most?

Icy worries more actually. Both about being “good” enough for Bloom and also for Bloom’s safety. Basically, she may love her and respect her as the keeper of the Dragon Fire and a powerful magical user but she still views Bloom and Winx as a bunch of dumbasses who totally get mixed up in the biggest trouble you can find in the universe. Bloom also thinks that Icy gets mixed up into a lot of shit but she is confident that Icy can handle it. She is also a bit scandalized to learn that Icy does not fully return that confidence when it comes to Bloom’s ability to get out of sticky situations (mostly because half the time the only reason Winx survived against the Trix was because Icy didn’t want to actually kill Bloom).

12. Who initiates kisses?

Icy. She likes kissing Bloom and she looks for no excuses to do it. She just goes for it. She doesn’t need a reason to kiss the life out of her girlfriend. She doesn’t care that she is contradicting her proclamations of disliking affection.

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Bloom. She likes just holding on to Icy, maybe cuddling into her and smooching her, too, or running her free hand through Icy’s hair. Icy claims it is counterproductive. Somehow you’ll never see her letting go of Bloom’s hand, though. She actually starts reaching for Bloom herself as she gets more comfortable with PDAs (and any displays of affection at all).

14. Who kisses the hardest?

Icy. Bloom was not prepared. She is a puddle for Icy the moment she gets devoured with a kiss and Icy loves every moment of it. They both do.

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Definitely Icy. Although it is more of a they already knew kind of situation. Stormy and Darcy had noticed the change in her and they figured out what was going on.

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Darcy and Stormy are okay with it. They don’t exactly have that big reactions. They might be kinda salty because Winx were the reason why they ended up in jail several times but they’re happy if Icy is. Winx aren’t all that sold on it, though, considering all the times the Trix almost killed them. They come around eventually, some faster than others (surprisingly, it took Flora a big time because the Trix nearly killed Miele) but they do believe in people being able to change and be better so they are happy once they are sure that Bloom is having a good relationship that makes her happy. Mike and Vanessa need some time to get used to it as well because the Trix also nearly killed them. And Marion and Oritel aren’t thrilled about the Trix being descendants of the Ancestral Witches and having attempted to murder Bloom and her friends more than once. But they actually come around faster (well, Marion does, and she has to stop Oritel from meddling) because they don’t feel like they have that much authority in Bloom’s life. So really, it is Mike and Vanessa that Icy has to win over. She does understand why they’re wary of her and is even surprised that they’re giving her a chance at all. So she does her best to be the best for Bloom and they slowly warm up to the idea of her being Bloom’s one and only.

25. Who needs more assurance?

Bloom. She has many insecurities about never fitting in and she actually feels more uncertain about why Icy likes her. Icy is pretty certain in Bloom’s feelings about her because given what they’ve been through and what she’s caused Bloom and her friends, Bloom must really like her in order to even consider being with her. She is actually glad that she can provide reassurance for Bloom, though, and be there for her now to make up for what she’s done in the past.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Icy will totally get into more trouble than she would if Bloom were around. It’s not that she can’t control herself but she sometimes misses her more villainous moments. Bloom knows about that and pretends she doesn’t see when Icy is being more of a bitch than she needs to be. So Icy isn’t lying to Bloom about anything. She just knows it will be better for both of them if Bloom can pretend to be completely clueless about Icy’s misdeeds. She also chills with Darcy and Stormy, though. Or... well, they’re chilling like villains but you know. She’s chilled with Winx a couple times as well and that went better than she thought it would. Stella was a little annoying but they actually had a good time shopping together? Who would’ve thought. She’s also sparred with Musa and Layla and it was fun. She’ll deny it, though.

Bloom draws a lot. She likes making surprise drawings for Icy and of Icy. She also hangs out with Stella a lot. The other Winx as well but mostly with Stella. She’s had several outings with Darcy and Stormy and that went... decently. They found some things in common but there was also some awkwardness. Darcy and Stormy had a hard time opening up to her to which she totally related. So that kind of acted like a bridge. They were mostly learning to get along without Icy being there and it got better with time. They can have a pleasant meeting just the three of them now.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

Icy has a hard time around Daphne because she feels bad for what Daphne (and therefore Bloom) had to go through because of the Ancestral Witches but she can’t help but be salty about Daphne being resurrected and getting to live while Sapphire is still cursed (if we take a better version of canon where the fact that she had a sister did not come out of the blue). Same for Domino vs Dyamond. She finds it hardest to interact with Daphne, however, because of Daphne’s character. The calmness and sort of wisdom that Daphne has kinda grates on her nerves. It breaks Bloom’s heart a little that her sister and her wife (oh, yeah) can’t get along (Daphne is not all that thrilled about Icy either).

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

Bloom makes a necklace herself (with a little help from Hagen) that contains a spark of the Dragon Fire (like Oritel’s sword) and give it to Icy to both show her that she trusts her and share with her everything that is hers - not just her love, but her magic and life as well. It might have been a proposal without actually being one. Icy has to work very hard on learning to contain the tears every time she looks at the necklace in order to actually be able to wear it. It boosts her powers and makes her and Bloom a formidable team and arguably the strongest partnership in the whole universe.

[saphirered]

How about poly Essek and Caleb first times? Thank you!

I hope this one’s to your liking. Thank you for requesting! 😘

Warning! Hinted spoilers for recent episodes. 

You grew up in the Dynasty being born into one of the more respectable Dens. You knew Essek by reputation and he you by yours. When the two of you grew closer and eventually started a formal courtship those around you couldn’t be more pleased. The two of you were more hesitant at first considering the other party might be in it for the political gains but once you learned you both felt the same you continued your relationship according to the customs of high society. When it came to time spent in private the two of you learned to be much less restricted and ease up when you didn’t have to be mindful of the eyes on you. Both of you had a reputation to uphold and couldn’t afford a scandal so you would follow the norms for the public eye while ditching them the moment you knew no one was looking. 

Your first kiss revealed to you Essek was a hopelessly unexperienced in the ways of romance. You had found him reading romance novels weeks before he made his move and it was every bit the cheesy event you expected to originate from it. A nice evening walk ending at a lovely fountain, him telling you of his affections for you, complementing you, describing how he felt a pull towards you from the first time he met you all the while getting flustered and you could see him trying to remember the ‘speech’ he had attempted to cram into his head. You had to tell him to shut up and were the one to kiss him first. He may have taken the fireworks part a bit too literally as actual fireworks did go off when you kissed him. 

Essek and you formally announced the end of your courtship and beginning of your relationship to both your families who couldn’t be more overjoyed, more so over the political benefits for both sides than either of your happiness though you didn’t really care. Essek was more afraid of his family’s response and was glad for their approval while you may have just told your family to shove it if they disagreed. Luckily you didn’t have to and you were able to spare him the heart attack. 

From the moment you announced your relationship you no longer needed to hide or be worried about sticking to rules of engagement. You were free to kiss, hug and hold each other whenever you pleased. Essek is a bit more held back when it comes to public displays of affection but caves quickly when you hold his hand or give him a quick kiss on the cheek but you best keep the terms of endearment limited in official company or when others can easily overhear. 

Spending so much time at Essek’s home already he asked you to move in as you preferred his place over your own anyway. He offered you your own rooms even though you had shared a bed before but you were quick to decline and instead turned to permanently share chambers with him. He was not in any way opposed and very much preferred the comfort of your embrace at any time of day and night. 

You were more used to speaking your mind and had grown accustomed to saying ‘I love you’ in minor or trivial occasions whether it be upon Essek leaving for the Bastion without you, him handing you something you asked for, ether of you leaving on official business for a few days or weeks or something else but the first time you really said it intended was when he helped you when you were at your wits end dealing a particularly difficult Taskhand and getting them off your back on some official matter you had to handle. He was quick to return the words with a kiss. 

Then one day a group of curious individuals found their way into the throne room of the Lucid Bastion carrying an artefact thought long lost. Among them stood a scruffy looking redheaded wizard who caught the attention of the both of you. Curiosity peaked by a particularly ballsy move on the man’s end from you and intrigue for a different reason for Essek. Upon the groups decision to work with the Dynasty to prove themselves trustworthy Essek is appointed their steward for the duration of their stay and by default so were you. This gave the both of you the opportunity to get to know the Mighty Nein better. 

When the Nein had somewhat gained a more stable favour of the Dynasty you were tasked to provide them with a more suitable abode than a dingy tavern no longer suitable for the heroes of the Dynasty. Essek put in a good word for you but you visited together. It did not go unnoticed the scruffy redhead was more than just curious about Essek’s particular field of expertise and your seemingly endless knowledge of the workings of the Dynasty and expertises. While you could justify Essek’s willingness to teach the wizard the basics of Dunamancy as a calculated move that was not the only reason why it took Caleb so little to persuade him.

The first time you got to spend some time alone with Caleb you had dropped by the Xhorhaus to deliver some books for his still relatively empty study. The wizard’s love for literature of nearly any kind reached your ears. You had some good conversations mainly answering his questions as you did not think it was your place to ask him about his life much in depth. You didn’t want this to turn into an interrogation after all. Enjoying your company it became a habit for you to come over and spent time with Caleb, be that with or without Essek more regularly, the bond between the three of you developed further into something more than just friends but Caleb was more hesitant as he was aware of your relationship with the Shadowhand, something you did not hide. He feared he was intruding but you assured him he was certainly not. 

Caleb, while still very much reserved, compared to Essek was much more open and much less restricted than him. You and Essek had admitted your attraction to Caleb before but Essek was much more hesitant to express them to the man himself than you were. Still you figured it out, together. The involvement of Caleb in both of your lives brought you a lot of good and happiness and while you were all still figuring out how to make this work when your lives got in the way you really were ready to fight for it. 

Late nights spend at the Xhorhaus required some kind of secrecy if you didn’t want the rest of the Nein to gush about ‘you and your wizards’ making kissy faces or be bombarded with what one might consider awkward questions, or even mocking proclamations of love. When Essek got more comfortable with having outsiders in his private space Caleb would be over at your home more often than not when the Nein returned to Rosohna, most usually to spend more time with the two of you or to study. Falling asleep at a desk, table or sitting room was much less comfortable than a nice bed, one luckily large enough to comfortably hold the three of you. The first time this happened you had a particularly late night and opting for the comfort of a bed you all just plopped down in whichever space you could reach first. Waking up in a tangle of limbs and blankets became a bit of a habit after these study nights but you found more comfortable positions when you actually had the energy to do so.

Your first kiss together was much less cheesy in set up than the one you had shared with Essek. After a near death encounter for Caleb showed him the value of what you had he was the one to take initiative. Kisses peppered all over and words of kindness eventually resulted in a proclamation of love, one you were quick to return while it took Essek a hot second to process. You all wanted this. He actually felt a little stupid for his mind fighting back against his feelings. While in the public eye of the Dynasty you had to be a bit more careful, in private you were able to express your affections as you pleased and you cherished every moment you got. 

When Caleb left for longer durations he had resorted to allowing Jester to send either Essek or yourself messages when she could spare the spell slot. The first time you received a message from the blue tiefling it was quite the disaster but never ceased to bring a smile to your faces. Jester at times did ‘spice up’ the message according to Caleb but you were happy regardless. 

Your first real argument came from a betrayal you had hoped you didn’t see coming. You may have wished it wasn’t true and while you very much doubted if you hadn’t heard from Caleb, Essek would never have told you if he could avoid it. It broke your heart that the man you loved so much, who had been your support through all of this had lied to your face, hidden the truth when you would have had his back no matter what, could do this to the both of you. You weren’t mad. You may have been angry for just a moment but that faded quickly. All that was left was heartache and disappointment. You faced Essek telling him how you felt and tried to stay with him as you did before but you couldn’t get over it. 

Things couldn’t just return to normal after everything so you decided to join the Nein for a bit and stay with Caleb for a while to set yourself straight and work this out. In this time Caleb was your rock. Grounded you when you needed it and comforted you. While he too felt the weight of Essek’s betrayal Caleb remained the rational one. 

When you met again your distance from Essek may have been off-putting to some, those who were aware of your fall out understood. The rest of the Nein left the three of you to talk on your own and you came to the conclusion that while you still very much loved each other, wounds like these take time to heal and time you needed. It was a rocky road and while neither you or Caleb could forgive him for his actions you were ready to slowly open up your heart once more. Baby steps but steps no less. 

Your first time traveling together for an extended period of time while amidst the chaos of forces larger than any of you brought you back together in a way seeking comfort in each other and confiding in each other. You value every second you get with your wizards and would continue to do so no matter what you faced next. 

Essek, Caleb and you spend one evening planning what you would do when all of this is over and it was the first time you truly discussed your future. You all came to the conclusion you’d like nothing more than to spend it together much rather than apart. Brought up the prospects of one day even getting married for the hell of it. Living somewhere nice with a library beyond any of yours’ imagination and perhaps even passing on your knowledge to the next generation. That’s a future you could get behind, the first time any of you had the feeling of your own lives within arms’ reach, a feeling you could get used to.

[eldritchamy]

I watched “Happiest Season” and no it fucking wasn’t.

Here’s a review so you don’t have to suffer like I did: if I wasn’t watching it as the host of a movie night, I would not have made it past 20-30 minutes in.

It was very uncomfortable to watch.  I feel like I just spent two hours on a plane with a crying baby.  Except the baby was a homophobic rich white Republican that I was forced to campaign for.  All of the people I watched it with, including myself, found it stressful, anxiety inducing, and deeply unpleasant.  The first thing I did when it was over was warn my best friend not to watch it.

90% of the movie is rich white straight people drama forcing lesbians into the closet.  It’s not fun.  It’s not happy.  It wasn’t enjoyable.  At all.  Watching this was an uncompromisingly depressing and miserable experience.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it was neither of those things.   I feel repressed for having seen it.  

Every relationship in this movie is toxic and hard to watch, with the sole exception of two other characters who aren’t part of the family both having much better chemistry with Kristen Stewart’s character than her girlfriend.

Aubrey Plaza playing Gay Aubrey Plaza one of two redeeming things in the movie and she’s in it for about ten minutes, and even one of her scenes was hard for me to sit through (the awkward and dubiously written drag bar scene)  The other 90 minutes are agonizingly drawn out and unbearable.

If you are determined to support this movie because god knows we need more (and MUCH better) representation and we live in a hellscape where money is the only way to ask for such things, press play on it and then take out your headphones and go read a book instead until it’s over.

For your own sake please do not watch this.  

I genuinely can’t tell who it’s even FOR.  If anything about this movie resonates with you, I am SORRY to hear that, because you are probably the lesbian daughter of a very rich white man running for office as a Republican, and watching any of the rich housewife reality shows probably gives you PTSD because those are the kind of people you grew up with.  

And even IF that is the case, spare yourself the trauma of watching your own life and watch something else instead.  This movie will only hurt you.

Nothing about the experience of seeing this was worth it.

Plot spoilers ahead.

The plot is as follows:

Abby (Kristen Stewart) loves her girlfriend Harper (Mackenzie Davis).  But she does not love Christmas.  After a night out together, Harper asks her to join her when she visits her family for the holidays.  Abby says yes, and gets her gay male friend John (that guy from Schitt’s Creek) to cover pet sitting for her. While running a few errands with him, she goes to pick up an engagement ring which looks completely unattainable for a woman who makes a living as a pet sitter.

When they are almost to Harper’s family’s home, she awkwardly brings up that she lied about coming out to them earlier in the year.  They still don’t know she’s gay and they have to make sure the family is perfect and scandal free because her dad is running for mayor or something and one of his donors? campaign manager? is going to be there.  So they have to pretend Abby is her straight roommmate.  They fight about it before Abby very reluctantly agrees.  This is a pattern that repeats until Abby can’t take any more.

The family is like upper-class-Republican terrible.  They are AWFUL people.  The parents treat their children like trophies in a display case, and the children all feel forced into brutal competition with each other to see who the parents will actually be proud of.  One of Harper’s sisters (Jane) is actually an okay person who does nothing wrong, but she’s an aspiring writer who has spent 10 years not finishing her book and she’s played like she belongs in a different movie, and it feels like she’s meant to be seen as the useless layabout sibling, in a cruelly funny way.  

The other sister is a nightmare of a woman (Sloane? I think?) played by a completely unrecognizable Allison Brie.  She’s a lawful evil cutthroat monster who is straight up VICIOUS to the other two, and is especially terrible to Harper, because neither of them even see Jane as competition.  Her own family is the thing she uses to try to be worthy of her parents’ pride and affection.  

The dad is focused entirely on his campaign and is more or less indifferent to all of them unless they aren’t “presentable” and “scandal free” enough to keep his potential donor/campaign manager satisfied, in which case he “expects better of them” until they behave.  The children are like 30.  

The mom is maybe the worst of all of them.  She’s invasive, ignorant in that forceful way where she doesn’t give a shit about anything except her own bubble of reality that she thinks she’s living in and blows past any contradiction to it like it’s not even there, nitpicky about what everyone’s doing, is willfully out of touch with everything she’s told (Abby’s parents died when she was 19, and she spends the movie acting like she thinks Abby grew up in an orphanage made of dirt and never had a Christmas before).  And she will not leave the two of them alone.  She insists it’s ridiculous for two grown women to share a bedroom and gives Abby a room without a lock in a basement that’s bigger than my whole house, while Harper’s room is upstairs.  Everyone is constantly barging into Abby’s room with less than two seconds of notice, which leads to the kind of tension and awkwardness you’d expect.  The first morning, Abby wakes up to Sloane’s children staring at her.

Abby is clearly MISERABLE.  And so are you, because you’re watching this movie.  Abby and Harper are constantly pushed apart by the family, and Harper pushes Abby away while pretending to be perfect and straight for her family.

Her family invited Harper’s ex boyfriend, who thinks they should rekindle things.  Super fun thing that I always love to see in my lesbian media.

While out at dinner, Abby and Harper have another mini fight in the bathroom.  Harper promises she had no idea Connor(?) was going to be there and that there won’t be any more surprises.  They walk out of the bathroom, right into Harper’s OTHER ex, her first girlfriend Riley (Aubrey Plaza, who literally just plays herself and is the only good thing about the movie).

This is the first 20 minutes.

There’s a party that leaves Abby feeling isolated and pushed away.  She goes outside to make a phone call.  She makes regular texts and phone calls to John for support and advice throughout the movie.  He’s terrible at taking care of fish, but he’s genuinely a good friend to her and it’s clear he cares about her a lot.  It’s probably unfair not to say his friendship is the second redeeming thing in the movie.  After Abby gets off the phone with him the first time, Riley comes out from around the corner and tries to be nice, saying she could relate to what she’s going through.  Abby kind of closes off from her and she takes the hint without any fuss and leaves her alone.

The movie slogs on with compounding stress and anxiety and a moment when Abby is LITERALLY forced to hide in a closet and pretend she was sleepwalking on her way to Harper’s bedroom at night.  It MIGHT have been an attempt at a joke?  I’m genuinely not sure because I did not come close to laughing once in the entire 100 minutes of this nightmare.  Harper instead sneaks into Abby’s room while she’s awkwardly trying to get away from Harper’s mom.  That’s where the gifs of the sneak-snuggle from behind the door come from.  Enjoy the gifs because everything that wasn’t giffed is not worth seeing.  Harper spends the night there.

Bright and early, Harper’s mom comes knocking on the door, trying to open it and barge in again but Abby blocked the door with something heavy claiming it was to “keep her from sleepwalking again” (her excuse for being in the closet) while Harper frantically gets almost-dressed and hides behind the door as BOTH parents come to bother them, and the evil sister’s children see her partially dressed through the crack in the door.

Later that day Abby has to go shopping for a present for the “White Elephant” Harper didn’t warn her about.  She bumps into Sloane at the mall, who dumps her kids off on her before quickly leaving.  The kids very intentionally frame Abby for shoplifting by putting a necklace in her bag, and there’s a really awkward and uncomfortable scene with her being interrogated by overly forceful mall cops who are yelling at her.  When she finally gets back to the house, Harper’s entire family now thinks she’s a criminal.

Abby spends the night alone during another (campaign?) party that Harper told her she’d probably be happier getting left out of, and she bumps into Riley on the street and gets to talking with her, still more frustrated by Harper and her family.  She says she needs some alcohol, Riley takes her to a drag bar which gave me really bad vibes and bonds with her there, telling her a bit about her relationship with Harper.  They dated secretly (obviously) in their first year of high school (which implies she knew she was gay before she dated Connor, and used him as a cover).  They would sneak each other romantic notes.  When someone found one in Harper’s locker, she threw Riley under the bus completely, outed her, and said she was obsessed with her so she could go on pretending to be straight.  They bond a bit and seem like they could be friends, at a minimum.  They have a few more scenes together over the next hour (yeah there’s still that much movie left, and if you’re wondering how it could be that bad, you’re welcome for the warning, because I was wondering that too) and they have better chemistry than Abby and Harper by miles.

Eventually Abby becomes so miserable she checks the movie-specific version of Uber to try to go home by herself, but it’s running at holiday rates so it would cost over $1000 for her to leave.  She’s still tempted to do it, and calls John again for advice and says she feels awful, completely alone, and with no way out of this horrible situation.  He gives her some more friendly support.

Abby still needs a White Elephant gift, but has no way to go by herself because Harper drove them there.  So she calls Riley to go with her.  They spend a day hanging out together while Harper is doing some other thing with her dad’s campaign, and Abby makes text excuses to Harper, who then immediately sees Riley and Abby walking by on the street together.  Before she gets a chance to run out and say something, she gets interrupted by something I thankfully don’t remember (I long for the moment this is true of the rest of it).

Riley and Abby bond some more but nothing romantic happens.  The plot only wants them to be good friends, even though their chemistry is really good.

At the end of the day Abby comes in and Harper immediately almost starts a fight with her but they get interrupted again somehow.

I have willed most of the next 20 minutes out of my mind, apparently.

There’s yet another party at this gigantic house because I hate the rich, Abby and Riley talk more.  This is the one with the really gay outfit.  Abby admits to Riley that she was planning on proposing to Harper, but at this point it’s like she’s a completely different person and she can’t tell who the real Harper is.  Riley says it’s probably both of them.

SURPRISE JOHN IS HERE.  He comes in the front door and calls for Abby.  After Abby’s last phone call he arranged for his therapist to do the pet sitting and he drove all the way here just so he could take her home.  Seriously, John has incredible Good Friend Energy.  Yet more awkwardness ensues, while John mixes some awkward flirting with Connor into his poor attempt to come off as straight.  Abby then walks right up to Harper, says “we’re done” and goes to grab some things to leave.  Harper follows her into the room and tries to get her to stay, Abby says she can’t take the hiding and the general misery, the whole experience has been terrible and she’s not sure if Harper is the person she thought she was.  Harper argues for her to stay and says she’s caught between being afraid of losing her family if she comes out and knowing she’ll lose Abby if she doesn’t.  She promises to come out to them as soon as the holidays are over because Abby is more important to her.  They kiss briefly and realize Sloane is in the doorway.

Sloane tries to run to tell the rest of the family because burning Harper’s reputation forever means she’ll be the one their parents love most.  They fight in the many hallways of this stupidly enormous rich people house (this is when “Stay out of it, Sappho” happens) and on the way to ruin her sister’s life Sloane finds her husband making out with another ....campaign person? in the pantry and or closet which is big enough to fit two people inside.   Now Harper has something to use against Sloane.  This family is fucking horrible.  Sloane gets to where everyone else is first, and outs Harper.

Harper tries to swear she’s not gay, and sees Abby watching her.  She silently turns and walks out the door with John.  Harper then grabs a giant painting that Jane spent 100 hours on for the white elephant and smashes it over Sloane’s head and yells at her before falling apart.

Abby and John have another heartfelt conversation where John asks how she came out to her parents, and she said they loved and supported her.  Then he said his dad kicked him out on the street and didn’t talk to him for thirteen years.  He says everyone’s story is different, and Harper was still going through hers, and it was a hard one.  I THINK he acknowledges that if Abby doesn’t feel like she belongs in that story, she shouldn’t force herself to?  But that might have been wishful hindsight.  Abby comes back into the house to grab her things and leave, Harper comes out to her family right in front of her, Abby says it was too late and leaves anyway.  Harper is crushed and the rest of the family starts to see how fucked up they all are.

And then in the span of 7 fucking minutes the parents realize they were shitty to Sloane and Harper and the only reason Jane turned out okay is because they gave up on her, they give a minimal apology to their children, who also realize they were shitty to each other, and then it’s the next day and Abby is there with them, Harper has the ring on her finger, and everyone is magically happy now because the dad turned down his campaign advisor who said she could still work with him if he kept Harper’s “problem” a secret.

Jane’s book becomes a best seller and she’s friends with John now, because he was the only person who seemed genuinely interested in her passion.  He sits next to her at her book signing.  The end.

No, I’m not kidding.

As soon as it was over, I thought, wow that felt like a rushed happy ending that got slapped onto the end with nothing building up to or deserving it.

After further consideration, that gives it too much credit.

Because honestly? after the first hour and thirty five minutes of this hell, Abby and Harper being together at the end is not even something I would consider a happy ending.  I wasn’t satisfied at all.  It DEFINITELY felt like Abby ending up with Riley would have been a better movie.

If I had been told beforehand that a lesbian romcom starring Kristen Stewart and Mackenzie Davis, and featuring Aubrey Plaza as Gay Aubrey Plaza would have been an absolutely miserable experience that was hard to sit through and nothing but unpleasant to watch, I would probably have been shocked and disappointed.  

But at least I would have not seen this movie.  That is my gift to you.  Please do NOT watch this.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it lived up to neither of those claims.  Absolutely terrible movie.  The happiest season of all is one where you don’t watch this stressful, uncomfortable disaster.

[irishseeeker]

                                             rules don’t apply - chapter three 

Having a crush on your boss is embarrassing. Inappropriate. Wrong. Especially when your boss is Anthony Bridgerton, the most insufferable man on the planet whom you actively despise.

What does Kate have to say on the matter?

…No comment.

--

read chapter 1 here or here 

read chapter 2 here or  here

-- 

chapter 3: hold onto your leash 

“Kate.”

Kate didn’t know where she was. She was sitting in a chair behind a wooden desk, which was covered with various files, a laptop and multiple picture frames. The frames were blurred and she couldn’t make out the faces. Everything looked familiar, but she felt completely out of place. Something felt..off. Everything looked fuzzy, her vision was slightly blurred and the air slightly darker, as if there was a shadow over her.

She noticed him then, he stood in front of her, glowing like an angel.

She could see him crystal clear.

What was Anthony Bridgerton doing in her office?

He wasn’t wearing his usual work attire. He was wearing the suit he wore at the gala, except his collar was untucked and loose, his tie no longer wrapped around his neck.

His lips were slightly swollen, tints of red smudged across his pink lips.

Her reflection became clear in a small compact mirror open on her desk. More importantly, she could see the bright red lipstick slightly smudged on her lips.

What was going on?

His voice sent shivers down her spine as he said her name, enunciating each letter, his voice low, rough like gravel.

“What do you want, Kate?”

She opened her mouth but she couldn’t speak, nothing would come out. All she could do was gape as he walked towards her, around her desk, slowly coming to a stop as he stood in front of her. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms.

He moved closer, she could count the splatter of freckles across his nose as he closed the inches between their lips. One, two, three, four, five-

Kate woke up with a gasp. Newton let out a whine beside her, scowling at being woken up.

“Sorry bud,” She said, her breath hot and heavy as she scratched her corgi’s ears.

She did not just dream of Anthony Bridgerton. He was her worst nightmare.

Kate grabbed her phone, flicking open her google app and tapping impatiently at the screen as she typed her search.

What does it mean when you have a dream about your boss?

She flung her phone away from her, hearing it land on the duvet. What the bloody hell was she doing?

Kate had spent the previous day in bed with her sister, staying off her phone and eating takeaway while they watched movies all day. She needed any distraction from the article published. She even let Edwina convince her to do some yoga on Youtube. When she did pick up her phone last night, she flicked through some of the comments left under the article.

I thought you had to be pretty to be a gold digger?

Her sister is much prettier than she is

who even is she?

She quickly opened another bottle of wine to distract herself from the sinking feeling in her stomach.

How could she ever show her face in work again? What would everybody think? There was absolutely no truth to that article, but the truth had never been something people were concerned about when reading gossip.

Kate was hardly a scandal, she was a nobody. Anthony Bridgerton, on the other hand, was not.

She eventually got out of bed, washing her hair and exfoliating away the anxiety and dread that clung to her skin. She ate breakfast with Newton after getting dressed, opening her balcony doors and leaning against the railing as she looked out at London on a Sunday morning.

The air was bitter but the sun was shining despite it being winter, and Kate needed to clear her head and walk Newton. She texted Edwina, who suggested they grab a coffee and walk in the park. Edwina was a morning person, she had already been up for hours and had been to a pilates class.

Kate, on the other hand, had to set five alarms to get up on time and considered her walk to work sufficient exercise.

Cameras started flashing everywhere. Her eyes stung as the flashes started to blind her, she could barely make out Newton barking at her feet or the swarms of people waving a camera in her face.

“Kate Sheffield!”

“Kate, when did you and Anthony Bridgerton start dating?”

“Is it serious?”

“Will we be hearing wedding bells soon?”

Kate momentarily froze, gaping at the blinding flashes. What the hell was going on? How did they know where she lived?

“This is private property. You need to leave right now.” Her neighbour, a middle aged woman called Agnes Danbury, had appeared at her side. The woman tended to appear out of nowhere, trapping you in a conversation that wouldn’t finish until she was done. Kate actually liked her a lot, the woman just scared her a little. “Go out the back, darling. Through the car park.”

Kate hastily turned around and ran back into the building, down the steps and to the car park. She exited through the back entrance, which led to an empty road. She sprinted down the end of her road, away from the photographers and down the steps to her tube station. She got lost in the swarm of people in the busy station and by the time she turned around, panting, she did not see a camera in sight. She put her sunglasses on, pulled her beanie down lower on her head and cuddled Newton to her chest.

She wasn’t bothered after that, the ride on the tube and arrival at Hyde Park station was uneventful. Kate was shaken and paranoid as she glanced around her, but no one actually cared about her. It was Bridgerton they cared about. Newton was happily toddling along beside her as they entered the park gates. Edwina was on the other side of the park, near the pond, waiting with their coffees.

“Kate?”

The blood in her veins turned cold. She knew that voice anywhere. It was the unfortunate voice that she had become accustomed to hearing five days a week, a voice she did not get paid enough to listen to, a voice she could not get out of her head and now dreams.

Anthony Bridgerton stood behind her, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead as he stood in front of her. He had clearly been running, his flushed cheeks and damp t-shirt clung to his skin.

He looked good.

Why did he have to look good?

This was not the time to get distracted, Kate.

“Are you following me?” Kate managed to speak, flexing her fingers that weren’t holding Newton’s lead.

“What?” She couldn’t read his face. He didn’t look displeased to see her, which he usually did-but he didn’t look happy, either. He looked pensive. If she had seen him first, she would have run in the opposite direction or hid behind a tree.

He, for some reason, had approached her.

“Are you following me?” She repeated, bending down to scratch Newton’s ears. She needed something to do other than blankly stare at him.

“Why would I be following you?”

“Oh, so this is just a coincidence then?”

“I run in this park everyday,” Anthony said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “I have lived near it for years. So, yes. This is purely a coincidence.”

“Alright.” That was slightly embarrassing, but Kate was more preoccupied with getting away from him, getting away from this conversation and getting away from the thoughts spiraling in her head.

“Kate, wait.”

“No.”

“What?” He sounded exasperated, letting out a deep sigh as he appeared at her side.

“I am not doing this,” She said, gesturing between them. “We’re in public. Someone could see. I do not have the mental capacity to deal with you right now.”

“I presume you saw the article,” He said, putting his right foot on a bench to tie his shoelace. He looked completely unbothered, as if the events in the last two days hadn’t had any affect on his life whatsoever.

Two could play that game.

She just wouldn’t play it looking directly at him because he was bent over slightly and his shorts were rather right, which gave Kate the perfect view of his rather nice-

Kate, no.

“What article?” Kate simply shrugged her shoulders, her eyes flickering around the park. She didn’t see any photographers or anything unusual, which made it slightly easier to breathe. She needed to find Edwina and get away from him.

“Don’t play stupid, it doesn’t suit you.”

Kate narrowed her eyes. “You really have a way with women, don’t you?”

“My ways have never failed me before,” He replied, smirking smugly at her.

She mimed gagging. “It’s a Sunday. We are not working. I have no obligation whatsoever to talk to you.”

Anthony simply rolled his eyes.

It was incredible how she could be so attracted and annoyed by a man at the same time.

“Could we try to have a civilized, mature conversation? For once?” His voice was almost pleading, he still had his usual stern, arrogant tone but there was a hint of desperation in it.

He might actually feel bad.

“I don’t know, can we?” Kate mimicked him, making a sour face. She may be the problem here. She swiftly changed the subject.

“There were a lot of photographers outside of my flat. How did they figure out where I live?” Kate still hadn’t figured that out and it worried her beyond belief. She might stay at Mary’s for the next few days, Edwina’s flat was too small for anything more than a night.

Anthony’s face fell and he looked as if he felt bad for her. “You would be surprised how quickly the media can work. I’m sorry that happened, I really am.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“The article doesn’t mean anything, Kate.”

“That is quite easy for you to say. Do you have any idea how this looks for me? You’re my boss. It’s inappropriate. I have to go to work tomorrow and face everyone. It’s mortifying. What everyone is probably thinking-” Kate would usually be embarrassed by such a display of emotions, how high pitched her voice was and the anguish in her face-but she wasn’t even thinking about that.

She was slowly coming to terms with the consequences of the events of this weekend.

The realization hit her and she felt quite faint.

It was that or the sprint to the tube station earlier-she was really unfit.

“I’m going to have to quit and move to Australia.”

“What?” Anthony said, his eyes bulging out his eye sockets as he stared in bewilderment at her. “You’re not quitting-what?”

If he hadn’t thought she was mad before, that ship had definitely sailed. Anthony’s voice had increased a pitch as he spoke and he looked scared.

“I don’t do well in hot climates. I grew up in Somerset, where it rains most of the year, for fuck sake. I’m also not a fan of spiders and snakes.” Kate groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. “They’re the size of Newton over there. My sister still has to remove them from my flat.”

“Would you calm down?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Kate said, shaking her head profusely. “That’s the one thing you don’t say when you want someone to calm down. I have no reason to be calm.”

“You’re not moving to Australia,” Anthony said, trying to give her a reassuring look but it just came across as him looking slightly constipated. “It doesn’t matter what anybody thinks. Our personal relationship has nothing to do with our professional relationship. If anyone in work has anything to say, they can say it directly to me. Then they’ll get fired.”

It was Kate’s turn to roll her eyes and snort. “There’s definitely a human resources issue in there. Oh, well, that makes everything better than. Problem sorted.”

He was rather calm about the whole situation, really. It was infuriating. “Those gossip articles mean nothing, Kate. It will blow over in a few days and everybody will move onto the next story. That’s how it works.”

“That’s just amazing. I’ll just be known as another notch on your bed frame. I’ll have to add that to my CV.”

“I have a lot more experience with this than you,” Anthony said, his mouth forming a flat line. “I have been subjected to this for years-I do know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, well, I haven’t. I never asked to be. It’s my worst nightmare. There were cameras outside of my flat this morning. They knew where I lived. That is terrifying. The comments online were much kinder to you than they were to me.”

“I know.” He actually sounded sincere and she felt a pang of guilt for being so rude to him. A slight pang of guilt. “I wanted to reach out and apologize. I wasn’t sure if it would make it worse to hear from me, given that we have never exactly seen eye to eye. I was going to speak with you tomorrow at work. I’ll send security to your flat tomorrow for when you go to work.”

Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes. Honestly, rich people. “I don’t need security.”

“Yes you do. They’ll harass you for a few days and then eventually stop. It’s not a discussion, Kate. This is a safety issue.”

“Okay. Fine.” Kate conceded, letting out a deep breath. If he really was concerned, that worried her. She wasn’t used to this type of attention. “Thank you. Send me the bill.”

How much was security? She’d had a shop online last night after a few glasses of wine and had bought clothes she definitely didn’t need, and her bank account had been hit hard.

It was his turn to scoff. “You are not going to pay.”

“I am going to pay-” Kate protested, but Anthony didn’t let her finish.

“Do you argue over everything? Or is this special treatment just reserved for me?”

“You do pay me to argue. Maybe work on your personality and I wouldn’t argue with you so much.” “Thank you, though-but only this time.”

Newton barked loudly. They broke eye contact with each other and stared down at Newton, whose tongue was wagging happily out of his mouth. He circled around Anthony, jumping up and down eagerly.

“He’s a bit overweight.”

Kate’s jaw dropped and she gasped. “You are so rude. He’s a corgi, his rolls keep him warm! He probably heard that!”

“He’s a dog.” Anthony glanced down at Newton, quite unimpressed.

Of course Anthony Bridgerton didn’t like dogs. He probably didn’t like anything that caused any joy.

“Newton,” She said, particularly emphasizing that he had a name and was not just ‘dog’, “-is incredibly intelligent.”

They both simultaneously glanced back at Newton, who was sprinting in a small circle, trying and failing to chase his tail.

Anthony hummed, his eyes bulging slightly that infuriated Kate further. “I’m sure.”

“Please do not project your insecurities onto my dog.”

“My insecurities? I’m quite confident in my body.” His cocky smirk infuriated her more. His tight t-shirt was not helping the situation.

Kate swore she could see the outline of his chest, the faint lines of his abdominal muscles were clinging to the west material of his t-shirt.

“Good for you.” Kate managed to conjugate.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with my body, Kate?”

“I don’t think about your body at all.” Liar, liar.

“We both know that’s not true, Miss Sheffield.”

Newton saved Kate from replying by jumping onto Anthony, his paws resting on the thin material of his shorts covering his thighs.

“Down, dog. Sit.” Anthony pointed at the ground, and to Kate’s surprise, he sat. She usually had to bribe him with some ham to do any tricks.

She needed to make a swift exit. “We have to get going. My sister is waiting for-oh!”

Newton sprinted away from them, jumping from his sitting position and charging off so ferociously he yanked the lead right out of Kate’s grip. Kate landed flat on her face.

She felt Anthony’s hands on her waist, easily pulling her off the grand. Kate spat out a mouthful of grass, ignoring the tingling feeling his fingertips left as she stood up, immediately taking off after her dog.

“Newton, no! Come back!”

“Can’t you call him back?” Anthony said, easily catching up with her as they sprinted after the dog. They had gathered a few people’s attention, it was an interesting sight-two people running after a manic dog.

“Thank god you’re here. I never would have thought of that one on my own.” Kate cast a disgruntled glare at him before squinting her eyes to make out Newton’s little figure, a good bit ahead of them.

“Newton!” She roared after him, but the runaway corgi paid them little attention.

Kate felt like she was going to vomit. She had to stop, coming to an abrupt halt to bend over. She was panting heavily, resting her hands on her knees. She may have been dressed in running gear, a jumper and leggings-but she had never actually ran in them.

“I think I’m going to get sick,” Kate said, half-panting, half heaving. Her stomach was not feeling good.

Anthony, who stopped a few meters ahead of her, glanced back at her unimpressed. He wasn’t even sweating. “We’ve ran about fifty meters.”

“I’m failing to see your point,” Kate said, biting her bottom lip hard before mustering the strength to take off again. She needed to find Newton-she wasn’t worried he would run off, he had severe attachment issues, as did Kate-but he would make it difficult for her in the meantime.

“Don’t you exercise?” He asked, easily jogging beside her. He still hadn’t broken a sweat and Kate couldn’t stop, the beads of sweat trailing down her forehead.

“I don’t have the time.” She wasn’t willing to try to find the time. She worked, she spent time with her family and Newton and she slept. An exciting life, truly.

Anthony, rather judgmentally, snorted. “We have a free gym in the building at work. It’s about making time, Kate. I exercise everyday.”

“Would you like a medal?” Kate tried to sound unimpressed, her tone flat and dull. It wasn’t news to her, he had raised a lot of money last year for the marathon and it had been advertised all around the building.

Kate had been treated to Anthony Bridgerton’s face everywhere for a whole month before the marathon. She not only had to see his smug face in person daily but she had been subjected to it on newsletters, in emails, on badges and on bloody biscuits.

“I have plenty, thanks,” He said swiftly, his usual arrogant tone alive and well. It was the voice he used in meetings at work when they were arguing over something and he was trying to irritate her-it usually worked. “I was captain of the rugby team at school and at Oxford. I also ran the London Marathon last year.”

“You’re so modest.” Kate laughed as he scowled at her sarcastic tone. His achievements were quite impressive, she had donated to his fundraiser last year-she just wasn't going to inflate his ego any further. “I pass the gym everyday and I swear I’ll go tomorrow. The thing is, I really couldn’t be arsed.”

Kate fell off a treadmill last year and still hadn’t emotionally recovered. It would be a cold day in hell before she stepped foot in a gym again.

“You should. It’s a good stress reliever. You always look so disgruntled every time I see you.”

Charming.

“That’s because I have to see you everyday.” Kate chimed back, shooting him a short smile before coming to a stop, beginning to walk towards Newton. They were getting closer and closer to Newton, who had been trotting around the same area of grass in the distance.

“Get him,” Anthony loudly whispered, interrupting their back and forth as he pointed towards Newton who was now rolling in a patch of dirt.

“I'm trying!" Kate shouted back, trying to keep her voice low as she reached out her hands. Her plan to pounce and grab Newton carefully before he could sprint away. "Stop distracting me. I need to get my dog. My dog, who now needs a bath and ran away, which are both completely your fault.” She was so close Newton, who still hadn’t noticed them.

Anthony was walking in front of Newton, trying to stay out of his eyeline by approaching from the side. It wasn't too difficult-Newton was quite oblivious.

“How is any of this my fault?” Anthony snapped, glaring at her from across the flowerbed as he creeped around it. “I am spending my Sunday helping you catch your beast-”

“Watch your mouth, Newton is an angel. I didn’t ask you to! I’m here because I came out to clear my head because of what you’ve done-” Kate argued, it seemed they could last a minute until they resumed bickering.

“What I’ve done?” He gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing. It was worrying how good it made her feel to make Anthony Bridgerton speechless.

“What have you done?” She was focusing on steadying her breath and controlling her panting, creeping closer and closer to Newton. She was seriously unfit. “Exist, specifically. I ended up in Lady Whistledown because of you! All because you enticed me into your fancy cars with snacks-”

“Enticed you?” It was more of an accusation than a question. “I was being nice. I can't help what the media write about me I was offering you a lift home. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“That’s fine by me!”

“Excellent”

“Great!”

“Fantastic.”

“Superb.”

Kate was going to run out of adjectives soon.

Anthony ran a hand through his hair, stopping in the middle of the flowerbed, glaring at her. "You...you are an absolute menace, do you know that? I have never in my life encountered such a frustrating-”

“A menace?” Kate snorted at the insult. “Do you always talk as if you’re from the 1800s?”

Newton spotted Kate and Anthony, narrowly avoiding Kate’s leap towards her. “Shit! Newton, come back here right now!”

Kate’s stomach dropped as she saw exactly what Newton had spotted and was now running towards.

The pond.

“Newton, no!”

“Isn’t he trained? Tell him to stop! Stop, dog!” Anthony shouted at her, his jaw clenched so tightly he looked like he was in pain.

“Yes,” Her voice wavered slightly, glaring right back at him. “He’s a dog. He’s having fun!” Truthfully, Newton had been asked to leave the three training courses Kate had signed them up for. Anthony was not going to know that.

“Kate!” Edwina waved her hand in the air. She was standing in front of the pond, a circle of ducks crowded in front of her. She appeared to be feeding them crumbs, a bagel waving in her hand.

She had completely forgotten about meeting her sister.

“Edwina.” Kate was roaring at her sister, waving her arms frantically. Edwina didn’t seem phased by her sister’s frazzled state at all. Kate wasn’t usually this dramatic, was she? “Move! He’s going to go for the bagel!”

Anthony had joined in on her shouting, but it was too late.

Newton launched himself at Edwina, specifically at the baked good in her hand-pushing her straight into the unbarricaded pond.

[rabid-heart]

Intertwined

For @sefikuraweek 2021 Day 5: Prompt - Gloves

The fairytale of the Princess Cloud, and her SOLDIER, the General Sephiroth.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Notes/Warnings: Genderbend/Royalty AU! Mentions of war. And, I guess, the fact that I watched too may royalty/period dramas and this is the brain-rot that resulted?

Read on Ao3 | Previous Day’s Post 

---

It is a bittersweet affair, as farewells usually are.

The hall is decorated with luminous candlelight, flames flickering beautifully against the crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. It looks almost like starlight, like the cosmos, twinkling above, contrasting with the night sky and the dark curtains shadowing the windows. Equally as dazzling are the people of the Midgar Court, the men and women all in their finest garments and jewels, rounding out the perfectly glossy picture of prestige, wealth and power. The sight might have been pleasant, had it not signified something much darker. As it is, General Sephiroth has trouble hiding his frustration and his anger at this unfettered decadence.

The ball is meant to be a celebration of the General and his fellow SOLDIERs, an elaborate sending off before what would hopefully be the final few months of the Wutai War. The last round of negotiations following the temporary ceasefire between the Shinra Empire and the Wutai Kingdom had fallen through, largely in part to King Shinra’s greed and pettiness. Thus, in spite of the costly war effort, in spite of the numerous lives lost, in spite of the suffering of his men, they are to be forced to take up arms once more. When Sephiroth had delivered the news to trusted officers, the disappointment on their faces had be more than evident. But there was nothing more they could do: in the end, the world had been crafted for kings and emperors, and soldiers, no matter how powerful, merely played pawns in the grand scheme.                  

It leaves little choice now but to try and enjoy the evening, though that proves to be a far more difficult gauntlet than Sephiroth is currently willing to endure. It is a special type of torture, watching his men, his friends, his companions, try to hide their fear over the coming months behind pleasant smiles and fake laughter, all for the benefit of the nobility. For a moment, he thinks about destroying the whole thing, tearing down the castle stone by stone, setting fire to the greed and the cowardice to purify it from the face of Gaia. But he does not and knows he cannot – for many reasons, including one that he holds so secret in his heart.

As if on cue, the court pages begin to sound their trumpets, and all heads in the room turn toward the towering doors separating the grand hall from the rest of the castle. The orchestra simmers into silence and, in the ensuing quiet, a servant calls out, “The Royal Family of Shinra, the King, the Crown Prince, and the Princess!”

The grand doors open. There is the King, dressed in robes of purple and gold, the emblem of his dominion emblazoned across his chest. He stalks his way through the doors and down the steps into the ballroom, trailed by his two children. They say the King had once been a handsome man, and there are some shadows of his lost youth in the shape of his jaw and in his height and proud stature. In fact, the clearest sign of his former vitality is embodied by his son, the heir apparent Prince Rufus, debonair and devastating in his white suit and slicked back hair.

But the true beauty of the family belongs to the fair-haired Princess Cloud. She walks behind the men, dressed in a gown of blue, with cap sleeves that just dip from underneath her shoulders to showcase an enticing decolletage. Her arms and hands are encased in gloves of the most expensive white silk, and around her neck sits the sapphire jewels of the royal family, a brilliant blue that is remarkably overshadowed by the absolute beauty of her glowing eyes.

On this night, and every other night since he had first laid eyes on the Princess, Sephiroth finds he cannot tear his gaze away.

The family walks to the center of the room, and the king lifts up his hands to further corral attention. “My citizens, my Midgar, tonight we celebrate a truly momentous occasion. Because this night marks the beginning of the end of our Wutaian enemies.” The man turns to take a chalice from a servant standing nearby and lifts the golden cup into the air with a haughty flare. “To our brave men, our unparalleled SOLDIERs, who will bring the Shinra Empire the greatest glory and the highest of victories, this night is for you.”

A roar of applause sounds through the crowd in response. But Sephiroth does not care. His eyes are fixed on the Princess, standing beside her father in the middle of the hall, her head slightly bent. To all others, the gesture would have appeared to have been out of respect – and there is some truth to that statement. But Sephiroth knows better – because for the briefest of moments, her blue eyes turn to him, and there is nothing there but sorrow and regret.

The King, however, fails to notice the exchange. Instead, he offers another toast. “For the glory of Shinra, for the power of the Empire, for the strength of our nation!”

“Huzzah!”

The festivities begin anew, and music once again flows through the air. Sephiroth watches Cloud, the way she gracefully bows to her father and brother as the two leave the floor to talk to the other nobles, the way the candlelight of the room highlights the radiance of her eyes. He had spent hours upon hours getting lost in that blue, like flying through a mountain sky, airy and free. The imagery only exacerbates the irony of just how trapped they truly are – a Princess meant to sell her happiness out of duty to her family, and a SOLDIER crafted as the perfect weapon, whose only purpose was to destroy in the name of the kingdom. The very facts that they commiserated over, that drew them together, would likely be the very reasons they would be torn apart.

And yet, in her arms and looking into those eyes, Sephiroth lets himself imagine a different life, one full of beauty and liberty and light and promise and hope. How he longs for it, longs for her, how he cherishes the secret kisses and furtive couplings. It had been a love at first sight, an attraction he hardly knew what to do with, one that haunted his evenings and consumed his waking thoughts. It took every ounce of his trained discipline to stay away. And yet, to his surprise, the affection had not been one-sided. When Cloud sought him out, forced a confrontation, kissed him with a fierceness and a fire that seemed to pull his very soul out of his breath, Sephiroth realized then that he was not dealing with a delicate sapphire jewel, but a sword of the strongest steel.

It only made him fall for her harder.

Her companionship had brought him a relief and a joy like no other, but they always had known it was forbidden, that Cloud would eventually be promised to another nobleman, that he would eventually be shipped off to some far corner of the planet, a tool bent her father’s will. But those facts did not stop them from indulging in the beautiful fantasy, even though they both knew exactly how it would end.

It is this very conflict that stirs in Sephiroth’s mind now. He knows he should look away, knows that the Midgar Court already whispers about them with scandalized delight, knows that if her father ever found out about their relationship, he could very well be executed on the spot – grand General or not. But tonight, he finds himself caring little for the gossip, the royal protocol. Because tonight, in Cloud’s wonderful and ethereal beauty, the loss of her is almost too much for Sephiroth to bear.

(And if he is destined to die for the Shinra royal family, he is at least determined to do it on his own terms.)

That strange mixture of grief and defiance is what carries him forward, striding across the ballroom with a purpose so evident, it parts the crowds around him. He only stops when he stands in front of the Princess, her expression startled at his approach, and yet yearning all the same. Around them, the people murmur, though Sephiroth pays no heed to what they have to say. The tones of the current song have begun to fade away. That is when Sephiroth makes his move.

“Your Royal Highness,” he says smoothly. “May I have this dance?”

The Princess’ eyes flicker between surprise and joy and fear. Not once out of the several balls and banquets hosted at court have they done this, knowing full well that adding any more fodder to the rumor mill could push the King into forcing a separation. But that concern is now a moot point. Tonight, all he desires – and all he knows she desires – is for one last dance.

Cloud bows to him now, but even in that deference, she still displays her formidable nature, in the sharpness of her blue eyes and in her cool disregard of the stares and whispers that the court sends their direction.

“My dear General,”’ she responds, taking his hand firmly and confidently.

The music resumes and the two begin to move, swept up in the melodies and the steps and the notes. As they progress, Sephiroth begins to feel like he always does around Cloud. It is as if the entirety of the universe melts away, collapses to its center – and for him, that center had become none other than her. With his arm around her waist and their eyes locked on each other, he cannot resist the spell that she casts to hold his attention, keep him in her thrall. And from the way her smile lights up to her eyes, to the gentle touches of her hand caressing the back of his own, he can feel her affection for him, just as strong as his own.

But like all good things between them, the song ends all too quickly, the moment fading. The time to say goodbye creeps closer. Sephiroth steps back and offers a serene bow. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he whispers, hoping all the things he wants to say aloud but can’t are conveyed in those words.

Cloud lets out a breath, her eyes glistening with unfallen tears. This is the cycle between them, the beautiful rush of the fantasy falling away, crushed under the relentless malice of their reality. For what else could they be than this – stolen kisses, brief dances, whispered words? Tomorrow, Sephiroth will begin his journey to Wutai, and they will be apart again in all ways, once more. He wishes desperately that it would not be so, but that is a choice that he cannot make.

But then, suddenly and in the quick and determined and bold manner that made Cloud so powerful and so alluring, the Princess chooses for him. She takes his hand and begins to run, pulling him along, out of the ballroom, out of the castle, into the gardens. In the rush, she ignores the startled gasps and hushed commentary of the courtiers, the guards, the servants, and even the King, with whom Sephiroth locks eyes with for a brief and revelatory moment before being swept up and away by Cloud.

He knows, he realizes. He knows.

If this is to be their last night on Gaia together, that fact hardly matters. And regardless, Sephiroth cannot pull away from Cloud, cannot help but run after her, because in his heart, he knows he would follow her to the very edges of creation itself.

Cloud finally stops in a quiet corner of the grounds, pushing him up against the wall of shrubbery and kissing him, gasping and desperate. Her sentiments spill into him, and Sephiroth finds his hands clinging to her waist, roaming over her shoulders, cradling her neck. Any modicum of distance between them feels like an aching sore, and tonight, of all nights, he would do anything to take away her pain.

His lips move, from hers, to her jaw, to her ear, her neck. She sighs, in that lovely way she does, in the way that drives Sephiroth to the very edge of his restraint. His fingers find purchase around the buttons on the back of her dress, and almost as if on instinct, they begin the process of undoing them, one by one.

Cloud’s breath hitches, and she pushes back and away slightly. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispers. “I don’t want you to die.”

“I won’t,” Sephiroth promises, reaching forward to kiss her again.

She dodges the kiss but wraps her arms around his shoulders anyway. “You are fighting a war that you do not believe in. That does not lend itself well to success.”

“Do you suggest I run, then?”

Cloud places her hand on the back of his neck, runs her fingers through his long silver hair. “Maybe we should. We could run. Find a corner of the world that is just the two of us. Where no one could ever reach us.”

For a moment, Sephiroth is tempted by the beauty of the wish – the idea of Cloud, forever his, on a house by a lake somewhere where wildflowers grow. Somewhere he could kiss her without fear of scorn, derision, discipline, or death. Somewhere he could love her, freely and truly. But it sounds too good to be true, because it is, and they both know it.

“I cannot abandon them, my friends and my men,” Sephiroth whispers back, squeezing her tightly in apology.

Cloud lets out a quiet whimper, but he knows she understands, knows that his loyalty is one of the reasons she loves him so deeply. “Then what do we do?” she asks, burying her head in his chest. “I can’t keep living like this. Knowing that I love you and I can’t be yours.”

Instead of responding outright, Sephiroth reaches down and takes her left hand, bringing it up to his lips. He slips the glove off her finger gently, tenderly, with all the love he has in his entire being, allowing the silk to slip to the ground. Then, he himself begins to fall, down to one knee.

“When I return, I’ll put a ring here,” he says, gently kissing her fingers. “And I’ll make even greater vows to you.”

Cloud watches him, eyes wide. “You…are serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“My father will not let you.”

“I don’t care about your father,” Sephiroth says, turning her hand to press more intentional kisses to her palm and her wrist. He then pulls back and gazes up at her with expectant eyes. “I’ll fight his war, because that is my only way back to you. But once I return, I have no intention of letting you go. If you let me fight for you, then I swear to you that nothing will stop me until you are freely and truly mine.”

The tears now stream freely, slipping softly from those dazzling blue eyes. But Sephiroth knows Cloud enough to recognize that they are not from sadness, not in the slightest.

She bends over to cradle his face and tug him gently upright. Once he stands in front of her, she takes his left hand, and just as he did hers, slides off his glove with equal affection, dropping the black leather atop of her own white silk.

As she kisses his knuckles, Cloud whispers with all the passion and fire in her soul, “Then as you fight, so will I. For us. So I too can make more promises to you when you return.”

Their fingers intertwine. And in the garden, underneath the real starlight and away from the prison of the palace, they seal the first of their many vows with a loving, hopeful kiss.

[sometimestxt]

Five Times Loid and Yor Almost Kiss, and One Time They Actually Do

Fandom: SPY x FAMILY Pairings / Characters: Loid x Yor / Loid, Yor, Yuri, Frankie, Anya, Henry Henderson Summary: Or, the Forgers try their best to maintain the farce.

Word Count: 4,321 Read on ao3.

-

0001

Despite his recent demotion from housemaster to simple homeroom teacher, Henry Henderson was wholly dedicated to the success of Eden Academy. As such, he made an effort to continue his customary patrols around campus grounds to ensure that everything was in proper and elegant condition.

Henderson paused during his rounds as he spotted a familiar couple standing outside of the main building, alongside housemaster Murdoch Swan.

The Forgers, he quickly realized.

Henderson moved swiftly, finding a hiding place within earshot around the corner of the building. It was not a particularly regal action, he knew, but the teacher was curious as to how the Forgers would handle Swan this time.

“What brings you here?” he heard Swan sneer.

“We’re dropping off documents for our daughter’s enrollment,” came Mr Forger’s calm response.

“Oh, your daughter. The one who cried at the littlest thing—truly, a disgrace to Eden Academy.”

Henderson glanced around the corner at those words. He saw the way Ms Forger’s hands clenched and unclenched into fists, yet she remained silent. It had become increasingly obvious to Henderson that Swan was simply trying to rile up the couple as he prattled off more rude remarks—most likely in an attempt to cause a big enough scene to justify rescinding their daughter’s acceptance into the academy.

How inelegant.

The Forgers, however, seemed to be taking his comments in stride. They evidently had enough elegance to pick up on Swan’s scheming.

“And Ms Forger, it must be so difficult knowing that your daughter will always prefer her first mother over you,” Swan continued, his voice dripping in contempt. “The way she still cries over her.”

Henderson felt the sudden urge to punch Swan in the face once more.

“Master Swan,” Mr Forger cut in, steely, “we really must be on our way.”

Swan ignored his interjection, choosing to direct his attention to his wife instead. “Does your husband prefer her as well? He won’t even hold your hand—won’t even kiss you, will he?”

Swan laughed, a harsh sound.

“It’s really none of your business,” Ms Forger gritted out.

He laughed again. “Why won’t he just kiss you then? Then I won’t make it any more of my business.”

At that, Mr Forger took a step closer to his wife. His arm moved and he cupped her cheek with his right hand, then tilted her chin up towards him. He leaned in, close.

Henderson couldn’t stop the scandalized gasp that escaped his lips. Such a public display of affection, on school grounds? How inelegant!

Surely he couldn’t be wrong about the Forgers. They had proved themselves wonderfully on the day of their application interview, after all. He was willing to watch this through to the end, to give them the benefit of the doubt yet again. Surely they wouldn’t disappoint.

When Mr Forger pulled back, he raised his hand to display something. A handkerchief, Henderson quickly deduced. On it, a streak of ruby red marked the pure white of the fabric.

“Sorry, Yor, I had noticed that your lipstick smudged,” he apologized, tone soft. He elegantly pocketed the handkerchief, then turned to face Swan once again.

Though he couldn’t see his face clearly, Henderson was almost certain Mr Forger was shooting daggers at Swan with his eyes. His voice was cold as he stated, “I have no obligation to make my wife uncomfortable to appease you.”

Swan sputtered indignantly in response.

“Now, we really must be going.” Mr Forger ended the conversation there, grabbing his wife’s hand as they swiftly walked away.

Henderson couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he watched the couple depart.

Truly, the Forgers were the embodiment of elegance.

0010

If there was one thing that Yuri was certain about his sister, it was that she deserved the world. And so much more, to be completely honest.

She had, after all, done everything for him when they were children. She had worked hard to maintain normality in their fragmented family after everything had fallen apart. She picked up the pieces when they had nothing more than each other and their broken smiles. She was, frankly, everything he had, the only person who could still allow him to feel something as simplistic as childish joy—something he had since long thrown away for her.

Loid Forger, Yuri pointedly decided, was not the world. Sure, the man seemed to be smart, well-articulated, and well put together. Sure, he was also a talented cook, and he probably made a good amount of money too based off of their living space, and perhaps he was devilishly handsome as well (in a completely objective way; Yuri was objective like that)—but he was not good enough for Yor.

Yuri couldn’t help glaring at his sister’s husband as he sat in the living room of their shared home, nursing a bottle of wine. He was here to evaluate the man’s worthiness; likely a fruitless endeavor, because he settled on his conclusion within seconds.

His sister was incredibly kind and despite her monstrous strength, a delicate woman! She deserved someone who would look after and protect her, someone who had her best interests in mind, someone who would move heaven and earth for her. Loid struck him more as the type who would move just one or the other, not both. In his completely objective opinion.

Drunkenly, he demanded to see some intimacy between the couple, to prove that it was real. To prove that she was really, truly happy. It made perfect sense in his inebriated stupor.

Yuri quietly observed as the two sat near each other, whispering soft words to one another. They leaned in, their faces moving in for a kiss. Their lips were close, almost touching. He was filled with dread as he watched his sister—his family—being taken away from him in front of his very eyes.

He wasn’t ready, he realized. He was still just a little boy in a broken home clinging so dearly to his older sister

But the fact that she had been so clearly smitten with her husband, hurtling her own brother across their living room as he darted forward to pull them apart, just so she could kiss Loid, had his own world turning upside down. It became apparent that he hadn’t properly considered the extent of Yor’s feelings.

Maybe he wasn’t ready yet, but she was.

Nobody would be good enough for his sister, he knew.

He tainted his hands in blood for her, after all; gave up a life of innocence for her to live one of normalcy and happiness following their crooked childhood.

Maybe if Loid could give her even a semblance of the happy family that they were, that she so deserved, he would allow it.

Until then, he would continue to dye himself in red to protect her everyday life.

0011

“And that was all I was able to figure out, given the timing,” Frankie stated. Twilight was quiet, a contemplative look on his face. As they stood together in silence, outside a cafe in the city’s core downtown, the everyday bustle of the lunchtime rush continued around them. Sometimes it was easiest to hide in the open, when you could see everyone yet no one at the same time.

“Man, I thought you’d be more concerned, to be honest,” Frankie eventually remarked.

“Give me a moment. I’m just thinking. They’ve been stretching me thin with all this work lately, but I couldn’t turn down this project either,” Twilight answered. “Have you considered looking into—”

“—Loid?” a familiar voice interrupted. The two men stopped and turned towards the sound of the voice.

Frankie saw the way his friend’s entire posture flipped in a second and how his mouth quirked upwards into a fake smile at the sight of his fake wife. As expected of a high-class agent like Twilight.

“Hello, Yor,” Twilight greeted. “I wasn’t expecting to see you around here.”

“I was just passing by; my boss sent me on an errand,” she explained, an amicable (genuine, Frankie noted) smile on her face. She turned to Frankie next, the smile still on her lips. “Thank you for always lending us a hand with Anya.”

He cracked a grin. “No worries. Loid’s one of my best friends; I’m more than happy to lend him a helping hand. And Anya’s a lovely little girl too, so it’s always a pleasure.”

Twilight wasn’t the only one who could pull off a fake persona at the drop of a hat, he mused to himself.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Yor beamed. “Anyway, it was good seeing you again, but I should probably get going now.”

Twilight tipped his hat at her and Frankie noticed him say something, but he didn't hear what. Then he saw her lean in close, so close it almost looked like a kiss—until she turned her face away at the last second and instead, whispered something in her fake husband’s ear. Her own ears were flushed red as she pulled away and bid them both a quick goodbye before hurrying off.

Once she was out of earshot, Frankie turned to look at Twilight, an eyebrow raised questioningly as he asked, “What was all that about?”

“She told me that she likes cheese,” he deadpanned, evidently unfazed by her impromptu declaration.

“How romantic,” he snorted. “That was a terrible attempt at a goodbye kiss.”

“I suspect she’s become more conscious about how we’re perceived as a married couple due to some recent events, but actions like these aren’t necessary. Not that we need to prove anything to you, anyway.” He frowned. “Besides, I’m not trying to bring feelings into this—”

“You never do,” Frankie interjected.

“—But she might.”

He blinked. “And why would you care if she does?”

The spy took a second longer to reply than usual, but it was still a noticeable enough second for Frankie—”I don’t.”

“Oh, that’s a cold way to treat your wife,” he said wryly, then straightened up. “Well, that’s how it should be anyway—but just a heads up, acting like shy schoolkids as a supposedly married couple doesn’t do much for you guys.”

“I’m well aware, but she’s not trained for this.” Twilight let out a sigh; Frankie knew that partnering up with outsiders had been a pain point for the agent since the very start of the mission.

“Then is it really so bad if she feels something a little real for you? Isn’t that good for the story?” he inquired. “That’s how it’s always been for your other… ‘relationships.’”

“… No, you’re right; it’s all one-sided. It normally wouldn’t be a problem.” He raised a hand to his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’d certainly be more convincing, at the very least.”

Normally, Frankie wanted to repeat, but didn't.

He let out a sigh, reaching out to place a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. The agent moved, shrugging him off almost immediately. Frankie continued, “Well, you can’t say I didn’t say anything.”

“I know what I’m doing and how to approach this,” Twilight said, voice steely, “and I’ll see this through to the very end.”

“I’m not doubting your capabilities, y’know,” Frankie replied, and left it at that.

Yet there was a part of him that still wondered.

0100

Yor entered the apartment at four in the morning as quietly as she could. She was thankful for the fact that she and Loid had separate bedrooms; it made slipping in and out of their home during the night so much easier for her job.

She tiptoed through the living room but abruptly stopped once she noticed Loid, fast asleep on their couch. She frowned.

Long hours again with his patients, she realized, belatedly remembering that he had yet to return home by the time she left for her own work—belatedly remembering how she had tucked Anya into bed earlier that evening and assured her that Loid would be back soon.

Again, it made things so much easier for her like this.

Still, she couldn’t help but admire how hard he worked for his clients—for Anya. It reminded her a bit of herself when she was younger, working herself to literal bone and blood for Yuri.

Her feet moved on their own, leading her further into the living room until she was squatted next to her sleeping partner. She watched the soft rise and fall of his chest, listened to his quiet breaths. He must have been exhausted if he couldn’t even make it to his bedroom. Their couch wasn’t nearly long enough for him to be comfortable; his feet were propped up awkwardly at the other end, and that atrocious sleeping posture would probably lead to a sore neck in the morning.

In the silence of the night, Yor found herself studying his features. It wasn’t often she had this opportunity; after all, their entire marriage wasn’t real. There was no reason to ever get so personal like this, not unless they were keeping up appearances in public.

There were bags under his eyes and his hair was unkempt, she noted, nothing like how it usually was during the day. He was fatigued, no doubt about it. Despite everything, Yor found herself smiling.

He was a good father to Anya. He worked tirelessly for his daughter, she could tell.

Yor wanted to do her best for Anya, too. She knew how hard it could be to lose a mother—to have a family of just one other. Even if it was for only a while, she wanted to give Anya a happy family. She wanted Anya to live the happy, normal life she never really had; the happy, normal life she worked so hard to give to Yuri.

A happy family with a happily in love mother and father.

She shifted slightly, her head tilting forward.

Loid stirred in his sleep then and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Suddenly, she was acutely aware of how close she had gotten to him. She felt her face warm as she swiftly pulled away, almost stumbling on her feet.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

She was tired too—tired because it was four in the morning, tired because she just expended all of her energy on her latest assignment. She evidently wasn’t thinking clearly, and she definitely hadn’t just been leaning in to leave a kiss on his lips, not while he was asleep. And if she had been, it was only because she was tired from work!

Yor straightened her back.

Right. Her mission was done. She needed to go clean up now, needed to scrub off the dried blood from her hands before the sun rose. She hurried to her bedroom, quickly discarded her bloodied clothes and washed up before crawling into bed.

She tried not to dwell too much on what had almost just happened, tried not to think about what it would have felt like.

It wasn’t long until her exhaustion took over and she drifted to sleep, dreaming of a simple happy family.

0101

“Thanks for coming again, Loid,” said Yor as the couple walked into her latest corporate party.

“Of course,” was his simple reply.

“Honestly, it’s not like Yuri is watching over us this time, so I don’t think you needed to come for this one,” she murmured, voice low.

“If I hadn’t come, people would talk,” he answered in a similarly low tone. “They’d ask questions.”

Yor pursed her lips in contemplation. “Well, it’s probably fine for you to miss out on one or two of these parties. You’ve been pulling long hours at work, after all.”

“These aren’t frequent enough that it’d be something to worry about,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, briefly recalling the first work party they had attended together as part of their original arrangement. “It’s better to just avoid any questions outright if we can. It was my slip up in the first place, after all.”

She let out a light laugh. “I guess you’re right. You’ve really thought this through, Loid.”

He blinked. “Of course I have. Besides, it’s only fair I keep up my end of our agreement. You spend more time with Anya than I do at these kinds of events.”

He didn’t want a repeat of what had occurred with Yuri. No more questions, just a perfect couple. A perfect family.

“I like spending time with Anya,” she hummed.

His lips quirked upwards into a small smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“Anyway, let’s try to enjoy ourselves!” Yor beamed. The couple made their way around the party, exchanging greetings with each of Yor’s coworkers. Simple small talk was shared, and Twilight spoke vaguely of work as a psychiatrist. When Camilla arrived, she threw around a few pointed remarks before trotting off with her boyfriend in a huff. Time passed quickly despite all of the mundane conversations; he was accustomed to attending meaningless parties for the sake of his missions.

With the party now in full swing, Twilight made note of how the dance floor was filling up. Upon inspection, it appeared to be occupied primarily by couples in romantic relationships—so the next move was clear.

“Yor, would you like to dance?” he asked, holding up his hand to her.

A light blush dusted her cheeks at the suggestion. Still, she grasped his hand in hers. “I’m not much of a dancer, though.”

Twilight politely excused themselves from the small group of partygoers they had been speaking to. He offered Yor a reassuring smile as he led her onto the dance floor, saying, “Just follow my lead.”

She nodded and gave him an unsure smile of her own in return.

She was surprisingly good on her feet, however, able to match each of his steps. He, of course, had perfected multiple types of ballroom dancing over the years—from the waltz to the foxtrot to the quickstep. A good leader was key to ballroom dancing, but it was still imperative that the partner could skillfully follow.

Yor did as much, following every move with precision throughout the entire song.

On the final beat, Twilight leaned in close, his cheek pressed next to hers. He could feel her breath on his neck, warm.

This was when he would normally sweep his date off their feet, seduce them away into the quiet of the night and whisper sweet nothings into their ear until they started whispering everything—secrets, speculations, carefully concealed truths.

But this was Yor—his partner, unlike every other woman he used as a necessary pawn—so instead, he strategically angled their faces in such a way that he knew would make it look as though they were kissing. Yor let out a squeak as he shifted their posture, but still maintained the position.

After counting to five, they separated.

Twilight flashed her his most perfect smile—people were watching, after all—and she mumbled something incoherent in response, her face still glowing a soft pink.

He thought back to Frankie, thought about feelings. What feelings? There was nothing to worry about.

He was an expert.

And Yor was—

“—Wow,” she breathed, “wow. You’re a really good dancer, Loid.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “The waltz isn’t very difficult.”

“Still! It was impressive,” she reiterated. As if to prove her point, a coworker approached the two to compliment them on their dance. Soon they were dragged into another group conversation, and the rest of the night continued without a hitch.

Another successful task accomplished, Twilight concluded as they left the venue together, arm in arm; they were the perfect couple.

0110

“Becky told me that boys have cooties,” Anya declared as she and Yor sat at the dinner table, waiting for Loid to finish plating. Loid had pointedly removed Yor from any and all duties pertaining to dinner despite her protests and sulking, citing her most recent kitchen disaster as reason enough.

Loid let out a noncommittal grunt in response as he moved all of the food onto the table.

“She said that boys are stinky, too,” Anya continued as Loid pulled up a seat next to her and across from Yor. “Mama, is that why you don’t wanna kiss Papa? Because he’s stinky? Cooties?”

He coughed.

“Eh? Oh, no. No, Papa isn’t stinky!” Yor waved her hands around animatedly as though that somehow helped her point. Loid gave her a weary look.

Anya made a face. “Well, Papa and Mama still haven’t kissed yet! Is it cooties, then?”

“No, Anya, it’s not cooties.” He sighed.

“That’s what someone with cooties would say,” she huffed.

Yor let out a soft laugh and he sighed again.

“I’m not gonna do my homework until Papa and Mama kiss!” Anya suddenly exclaimed.

At that proclamation, something seemed to switch on within Loid. His back straightened and it was almost as though he was on high alert. “Anya. Anya, you need to do your homework. If you don’t, you’ll fall behind in class. We can’t have you falling behind in class, Anya.”

She pouted in response and defiantly shook her head.

“Anya,” he started, voice stern.

Yor coughed into her fist then, drawing his attention.

Her voice was low as she asked, “Well, should we…? I mean, it’s important for Anya to do her work. And it’s just… just a kiss. It’s something we should be able to do.”

Her cheeks flushed at the very suggestion.

He frowned. “We shouldn’t spoil her by following through with these kinds of silly demands.”

Yor paused as though she wanted to say something about his remark. She didn’t.

Eventually, she spoke, “You’re right. But Anya’s really pouting there.”

She tilted her head to the little girl in question, her cheeks puffed in rebellion.

“She can pout as much as she wants, but we don’t need to do this. She’ll drop it eventually, like she always does,” he reiterated.

A pause. His brow furrowed as though he was deep in thought. “Probably.”

He looked back at Anya then and saw her reaching across the table, her hands gesturing towards him.

“It’s rude to have your arms on the table, Anya,” he instinctively reprimanded.

“But this is important, Papa,” she stated confidently. She clenched and unclenched her hands in an opening motion, trying to get Loid to do the same. He eventually complied, opening up his fist. On his palm, Anya confidently traced the shape of a circle, then pressed her index finger into his skin a couple of times over.

“There, now you’re safe! Becky taught me how to do a cootie shoot, too. So Mama doesn’t need to worry anymore.” She pulled back, looking especially proud of herself.

“Wow, Anya! That’s amazing!” Yor clapped her hands together in praise.

She beamed, “Now Mama and Papa can kiss.”

Loid let out another sigh. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was promptly interrupted by a familiar theme song blaring loudly from the television in the living room. Anya whipped her head around at the sound, her eyes wide.

“Anya, you haven’t eaten dinner yet,” Loid reminded, his tone exasperated.

“Nooo, I don’t want to miss Spy Wars,” she whined in response.

He gave her a look.

“I’ll do my homework, Papa, I promise! After Spy Wars!”

Again, something seemed to switch on within Loid. He stood up from his seat then and moved to scoop Anya up into his arms. “Only for tonight. Then you’re doing your homework after dinner. No complaints, and no more cootie shots.”

“Promise!” Anya nodded her head rapidly, all worries about cooties and stinky boys suddenly forgotten.

He exchanged a glance with Yor then; she smiled knowingly.

Loid sighed for the umpteenth time that evening as he headed into the living room with Anya.

After Spy Wars, dinner, and another valiant attempt at fractions, Anya was tucked snugly into bed.

Standing in the hallway, their home felt a lot quieter now that Anya was asleep. Sometimes she truly felt like the life of their makeshift family, loud and playful and full of energy.

But the quiet was important, too. They needed their rest—deserved it, given how hectic it had been earlier in the evening.

Loid opened his mouth then, ready to wish Yor a good night.

“I don’t think you’re stinky, Loid,” Yor suddenly declared before he could speak.

He closed his mouth. Opened it again. “I don’t think you’re stinky either?”

“Good! I mean, thank you! I mean, that’s not what I actually mean!” she exclaimed.

He cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Yor?”

“I… I don’t think you’re stinky, and I don’t think you have cooties either,” she repeated.

He nodded his head, encouraging her to continue.

“So, this is…,” she trailed off, her cheeks warming. “This is… just how it is.”

She took a step closer, then another, until they stood almost touching.

“Yor, I really don’t know what you—”

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she pulled him down towards her. Her mouth pressed against his, a gentle, brief kiss. Her lips were soft and she smelled sweet, Loid noticed with startling realization. His hand twitched, almost moving to rest on her hip until he consciously stopped himself.

Releasing her grip on his shirt, she took a step back. Her face was completely red and her eyes were directed at the floor with sudden interest.

He blinked once, twice.

Before he could say a word, Yor stuttered a high-pitched “good night!” and abruptly rushed into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her with almost enough force to rip it off its hinges.

He stood there.

Looked at her bedroom door, then his.

Stood a bit longer.

The hardwood under his feet felt different as he eventually made his way into his own room.

That night as he laid in bed, he speculated over the 28 possible explanations for her actions.

[yandere-daydreams]

A Yandere!Toshinori/OC piece for the very lovely @evaesis​, featuring her character, Kit, and a *nasty* case of Stockholm Syndrome, even if it presents itself rather sweetly. It’s just nice to write some consensual smut for once, honestly.

Word Count: 3.0k

TW: NSFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Knotting, Delusional Mindsets, Mentions of Kidnapping and Implied Stolkholm Syndrome. 

Kit liked to think it was her natural sense of curiosity.

She didn’t like Toshinori, that much should’ve been common sense. She couldn’t bring herself to hate him, not after spending so much time as his coworker, his confidant, his friend, but she refused to let herself enjoy his company, too. He’d kidnapped her, for fuck’s sake, taken her away from the life she loved, slapped quick-canceling cuffs around her wrists just strong enough to block the more problematic parts of her quirk, and locked her inside of a fortress masquerading as an idyllic, woodsy mansion, too far from the nearest neighbor to be anything but a prison, albeit a comfortable one. When pressed, his only explanation had been his fading power, the last of which was long-gone, by now. She’d pushed him for something more substantial, something logical, but the only thing Kit had to show for it was an unreasonable sense of guilt and a slew of consolation gifts, the latter only working to fuel the former.

She had to resent Toshinori. She needed to resent Toshinori.

What kind of person was she, if she couldn’t even hate her kidnapper?

That was why curiosity had to be the only reason behind her current position - laying on her stomach on the floor of Toshinor’s living room, a computer opened and poised less than an arm’s length away, her eyes never wandering from the screen. It was a modified laptop, made so she could search and browse whatever she wanted, but couldn’t put anything of her own out into it. The kind captured criminals would be given for good behavior. Still, it worked well enough for her intents, the small monitor displaying the shakey, blurry image of All Might in his prime, his brightly colored costume ripped to shreds and something she couldn’t quite make out embedded in his side. A knife, she guessed, or a piece of broken glass. Anything was possible, in the chaos of a real fight.

It was an older video, one taken only a few years after his debut, but Kit couldn’t seem to drag her attention away, not while Toshinori wasn’t home and she had so little to do. She’d seen it before, she must’ve. Everyone had. Everyone knew Toshinori was an idol, a Hero, one who took down all the big, dangerous bad guys less dedicated Pros couldn’t seem to topple. Distantly, she remembered what it’d been like to fight with him, beside Toshinori rather than against him. She’d always been one of the more nervous Heroes, seemingly the only one who could never beat that sense of terror, constant peril, dread. She did her best to be brave, but she wasn’t brave - she wasn’t supposed to be brave. She didn’t have to be. She just had to be heroic.

He was different, though.

Anyone who’d ever been in the same room as him could feel it. He was brave, and valiant and strong, strong enough to pick up the slack whenever she couldn’t dodge a piece of falling debris or reach a civilian in time. She appreciated him, she wasn’t afraid to admit that to herself. He was a good man, beneath all the paranoia and insecurity. He was a Hero.

A protector.

The title stirred something inside her, below her rational disposition and within her omega instincts, giving a voice to a part of her she’d always done her best to suppress. The desire to be protected and the engrained, hereditary guilt that came with rejecting that protection when it’s offered, especially by an alpha, an apex, at that. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to, but she couldn’t seem to fight it off, this time, not as the video feed in front of her refocused, All Might and his nameless foe coming into view. Her tails bristled, winding around each other and flicking aimlessly, and her ears flattening against her scalp, but she relaxed as the enemy was quickly subdued, their powers no challenge for Toshinori’s abilities. She wasn’t sure why she’d been worried, no threat was a challenge to him, not in his prime.

He’d retired, though, hadn’t he? She knew he had, she’d watched the fight live. That’d been the first time Kit hugged him, too relieved to do anything but wrap her arms around him and cry silently, if only because he’d come so close to failing, to not being there for her. How long had she’d been nice to him after that? A week, two? How quickly had she’d gone back to being awful, to trying to escape and fighting and hurting him, even if all Toshinori ever did was frown and kiss the top of her head and bandage the wound she’d manage to give herself while attempt to scale the seamless steel wall that surrounded the property. It was a miracle he hadn’t given up on her already, honestly. Leave her behind and chosen an omega who was grateful to have him, an omega who didn’t fight and run and snarl at every opportunity. Crime levels were rising outside, too, villains instilled with a new confidence now that All Might was no longer the one sent to deal with them.

Kit’d never fought in a world without All Might, before. Most Heroes hadn’t.

She didn’t want to fight with a world without All Might.

She pushed herself up, abruptly, gritting her teeth and slamming her laptop shut with so much force, she worried she’d cracked the screen. It took her more pacing than she’d like to admit before she could settle herself, calm her nerves and regain her composure. There was nothing to worry about - she knew what she had to do. If Toshinori would still have her, at least.

He was away, now, tending to one of UA’s scandals and smoothing over the concerns his absence had caused. He’d be back in three days. Four, if she was lucky.

Kit picked up her computer with a sigh, already forming a list in her mind. She had some shopping to do, if she really wanted to earn his forgiveness.

~

She hadn’t expected it to feel this warm.

Kit was an omega, she knew that, she wasn’t naive. This wasn’t her first heat, and she doubted it would be her last, but she’d spent so long under so much stress, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been affected by her cycle. There were vague memories of teenage hormones, talks of suppressants with doctors who were trying very hard not to blush, but she’d forgotten how hard it was to combat on her own, how sticky the air seemed to turn, how impossible it became to think.

Toshinori on his way - she knew he was. He was already home, the last press conference he was expected to attend having ended earlier that day, but despite his oncoming arrival, she couldn’t seem to sit still, to wait. Her thighs kept clenching, her legs beginning to ache where they were tucked underneath her, mussing up the bed she’d worked so hard to arrange. She’d tried keeping her hands at her sides, but they seemed to want to be anywhere else, fiddling with her hair or tugging at the fingers or crossing over her stomach, where a deep, embedded emptiness had formed, growing more unignorable with each passing second. Her skin was hot to the touch, but she wanted something even warmer to cling to, to rub against and leave her scent on. Her neck throbbed, making her aware of its blankness, how ashamed she should feel for not finding a reason to mar it. She wanted to be held, she wanted to be bitten, she wanted to be bre--

Something pulled her from her thoughts, a smell, a scent. Masculine and husky, so thick she could practically taste it in the air, the scent of an alpha who’d caught an omega in heat. The sound of the bedroom door swinging open was almost secondary, Toshinori’s entrance preceded by something much more enrapturing. Her mind went black, instinct threatening to take over, but she shook it off, focusing instead on Toshinori, or rather, the open-mouthed expression of shock slowly spreading across his features.

She knew what he saw. She hadn’t tried to be subtle, wanting her intentions to come across as blatantly as possible. A smirk pulled at the corners of her lips as she imagined how she must’ve looked, kneeling in front of him, head bowed and dressed head-to-toe in lace, the fabric sheer and thin, nearly translucent everywhere it wasn’t necessary. She’d tried to pick the most tasteful style she could, a respectful baby-doll in a shade of white bright enough to rival the tails winding around each other behind her back. Most importantly, the set was completed by a dainty, decorative collar around her neck, just big enough to draw attention to her mating mark, or lack thereof, rather.

Kit couldn’t help but laugh, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and pushing herself up. Toshinori didn’t move, didn’t speak, stuttering something unintelligible as Kit approached. He was a head taller than her, but Kit wasn’t fazed, wrapping his tie around his first and jerking him down to her height, only letting go to nuzzle against the crook of his neck, her arms soon finding their way to his shoulders. She purred, softly, the sound foreign, even to her. She’d never really tried. She’d never had a mate to purr to.

But, she had a mate, now. And like hell she was going to start resisting her instincts when she’d already come so far.

Toshinori was the first one to break the silence, coming out of his stupor and taking her by the biceps. She would’ve been surprised, if she wasn’t already so far lost in that warm, inviting haze. “This is… This is new,” He stammered, for lack of a better introduction. “Love, did something happen? This isn’t like you.”

“It isn’t,” She agreed, melting into Toshinori. “That’s the problem, right? I was so mean, and so selfish, I couldn’t think about anyone but myself. I thought you were being irrational, but I…” She trailed off, the words still awkward and stiff on her tongue. Luckily, confessions came easily when her lips were pressed against his skin. “I was wrong. I’m sorry about all those awful things I said.” She sighed, silently, moving in closer, seeking more of the warmth under his skin, only glancing towards his expression once she was settled. He made no attempt to hide his skepticism, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his lips. He didn’t quite believe her, not yet. She tried to sound more convincing, although her voice still found a way to tremble. “I’d like to make it up to you, if you’d let me.”

Toshinori opened his mouth, but he didn’t get the chance to speak. Before he could get a word out, something in Kit’s chest pounded, the reverberation running down her spine and shooting straight into her unprepared, unfilled core. She doubled over before she could stop herself, digging her nails into the jacket of his suit and letting out something between a cry and a moan, whatever discomfort she felt multiplying. Again, he moved to express his concern, but she stopped him. “Toshi-” One hand rose to the faux-collar, all-but tearing at the thin fabric. She didn’t want anything in her way, in his way. “Alpha.”

She’d barely finished when what was left of Toshinori’s resolve snapped, dissolved, disappeared. She yelped as an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her off her feet and throwing her onto the bed behind them, leaving her to squirm and writhe, each movement leaving her aware of the fresh slick staining her thighs, the white silk of her panties quickly turning translucent. Meanwhile, Toshinori pulled wildly at his suit, disregarding buttons and knots in favor of ripping at whatever wouldn’t come undone quickly enough. Kit tried to move back, to find something to steady herself with, but Toshinori was faster, standing in front of her one moment and on top of her the next, a hand around her neck, ready to squeeze at the slightest hint of resistance.

“What a daring omega, dressing up like a whore and tempting your alpha,” He muttered, his voice low, rough, almost verging on aggressive. Kit’s lips parted, but all she managed to release was a strangled whine as Toshinori’s free hand ghosted over her chest, brushing against her side before finding its target, cupping her cunt and dragging another pained sound from her throat. A finger traced the length of her covered slit teasingly, what was left of her self-control fading as the urge to be filled by something, anything replaced it. She didn’t want to think, grinding against the pitiful sensation and seeking out any friction she could get, her pride be damned. Toshinori only chuckled, pressing a thumb against her clit and reveling at how quickly her breath hitched in her throat. “How long have you been planning this? That outfit must’ve taken quite a bit of time to find… unless someone’s had this little number in mind since I brought her home.”

“N-No!” The denial was weak, only spurring Toshinori on, her panties soon around her knees, allowing Kit to kick them away. The babydoll didn’t last much longer, soon ripped down the middle and shoved away as his focus shifted, falling towards her chest. In the blink of an eye, a hickey was being sucked into the top of her breast, then its twin to match. His mouth closed around her nipple, suckling and licking until the peak was sensitive and pebbled, but Kit was impatient, her sex swollen and soaked and screaming for attention. Swiftly, she entangled her fingers in his hair, tugging just hard enough to get his attention. “It hurts,” She mumbled, voice barely loud enough for him to hear. As if on cue, something inside of her began to ache, the sensation nearly bringing tears to her eyes. “I want it, Toshi’, I want you. I can’t wait any longer.”

He paused, for a moment, going still. “Darling, I haven’t even--”

“Please.” She was whining, now, pleading with him, even if her eyes were shut as tightly as they could’ve been. “I need to be mated, alpha.

That was all it took. She heard a belt unbuckling, the rustle of fabric, and just like that, she got what she wanted, what she’d beg for. A thick cockhead dragged across her entrance, but that was all the warning she got before he was pushing inside her, Kit’s cunt providing as little resistance as it possibly could. He groaned as he sunk, proceeding slowly and letting her adjust, but his self-restraint could only last so long. By the time he was hilted, Toshinori was growling into her neck, searching for something he couldn’t quite reach. Something he wasn’t going to stop looking for until he found.

Kit hardly had time to whimper before he was pulling out, a hand latching onto the base of her tails and wrenching her over, barely giving her time to bend her knees before she was being dropped, forced to support herself as Toshinori slotted himself against her back. He’d lost his delicacy, his caring touch, opting instead to give in to his own instincts, driving his cock into the deepest parts of her and abusing any spot that made her keep and cry and bury her face in the bedsheets. Her yearning was overwhelmed, forced into submission by pleasure, fulfillment. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, something sharp and ruthless embedded itself in her neck, her scent gland, no doubt leaving a string of bruises and puncture marks in its wake.

A mating mark.

Her mating mark.

Instantly, every sensation became white-hot electricity, frying her nerves and exploiting them, turning each touch, each thurst into something euphoric. Her body wrapped around his with a religious devotion, her back arching and moans forcing themselves through her lips unabashedly. Toshinori was no better, any sounds he might’ve made muffled by how snuggly his face was pressed into her shoulder, but the way his uneven pace stuttered and sped up was unignorable, a tell-tale sign to his own reaction. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” He panted, more for himself than for her. “My beautiful omega, my perfect omega. My omega.”

“Alpha…” She mewled, her end approaching too quickly, too suddenly. Without warning, she was clenching around him, the world turning white and her mind going blank as she bucked against his hips, craving anything she could get that would prolong her state of elation. She didn’t have to worry, though. Toshinori steadied himself on the small of her back, taking in a ragged breath before shuddering, forcing something much bigger through her tight entrance. It took her a moment to comprehend what the swell testing the walls of her cunt was, but the realization wasn’t an unpleasant one, not when she figured out what exactly was filling her to the brim.

His knot.

All Might’s knot.

He called out incoherently as he came, his seed claiming her inside and out, painting her walls and seeping out around his cock, dripping over her thighs. Between attempting to catch her breath and Toshinori’s gentle, comforting ministrations, everything else seemed to fade into the background, Kit simply laying bad and letting big, careful hands position her amongst an array of pillows and blankets. She just sought his warm, her arms wrapping around his torso and refusing to let go. She felt him comb through her hair, but he was smiling when she glanced up blearily, the extent of her exhaustion suddenly dawning on her. “My mate,” He whispered, bending down to peck at her lips between words. “My wonderful, beautiful mate. Sleep, sweetheart. Don’t keep yourself awake.”

She didn’t argue, only nodding and burrowing into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as she began to fade out of consciousness.

She’d never felt more protected.

[al-pomegranate-seeds]

Warm food and warm hearts

“He wouldn’t say he was anxious. Or, yes, maybe he would say so, but it wasn’t...Bad. It was like when he was a child during Summer’s End, awaiting for father to finish preparing the bonfire so they could eat meat pies and drink hot chocolate with honey (it was one of the only days where he could drink honey besides right before his bedtime), and then mother would dance while holding him in her arms before putting a tiny drunk child to sleep.

Or: Logan's boyfriend invites him to stay the night in his apartment.“

Pairings:Logince, eventual DLAMP.

Urban fanatsy.

Tags: Fluff, First Kiss, a lil bit of angst, trans man!Roman, genderfluid!Logan

Warnings: A whole food discussion.

Characters: Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders, Remus Sanders, Dot(Cartoon Therapy)

Sequel to my fic “The hands they held”(https://al-pomegranate-seeds.tumblr.com/post/635778410466197504/the-hands-they-held-roman-looked-at-the-flower) and second installment in my “Unicia” series.

Archive of our own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737170

I

Logan let out a sigh as he closed the glass doors of the shop. Today had been especially taxing, it seemed. More customers than normal had showed up, right on the day when he felt his social battery had started lower than normal, and Roman hadn’t been able to come visit, having three long appointments to start.

Logan could feel his cheeks heat up(and see his glittering reflection on the glass) as he thought about that last one. It felt a bit ridiculous that Roman’s mere one day abstention was a factor in his mental exhaustation, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it. Roman had truly been a blessing, appearing on the shop’s first day of existing in that specific location, initiating a conversation with Logan and quickly establishing something they had in common. And then the friendship, which was more than Logan ever expected, going on for a approximately seven months of them sharing their interests and listening to each other ramble about things they didn’t necessarily understand, all of this during work breaks and in their respective places of work.

And today, Roman had invited him to spend the night in his apartment.

Logan wasn’t foolish, he didn’t expect them to go very far. Hell, three weeks and a half of dating and they hadn’t even kissed yet! But it was a big step, to be allowed into one’s home. And besides, Remus wouldn’t be there, occupied with some sort of date (“it’s a booty call, nerdy Wolverine”), and they wouldn’t be exchanging soft compliments and hand kisses on neutral ground.

He wouldn’t say he was anxious. Or, yes, maybe he would say so, but it wasn’t...Bad. It was like when he was a child during Summer’s End, awaiting for father to finish preparing the bonfire so they could eat meat pies and drink hot chocolate with honey (it was one of the only days where he could drink honey besides right before his bedtime), and then mother would dance while holding him in her arms before putting a tiny drunk child to sleep. She hadn’t been able to hold him anymore after he hit puberty, but they still danced the night away, drunk on honey and alcohol and love.

So maybe a better word to describe how he was feeling would be that he was excited.

“Oh come on kid, leave the cleaning up to me.” Logan heard mother say behind him. He spinned quickly, and she was smiling at him like she knew something he didn’t. She probably did.

“Absolutely not, I cannot allow you to clean everything up alone – “

“Logan.” She said firmly, and Logan shut up. “You’ve been staring at that damn tattoo parlor for eight minutes. Go see your pretty boy, I’m not too old to clean a damn shop.”

Logan felt his face heating up again, the light of his freckles lighting up mother’s face.

“I – ok. I’ll go. But promise not overexert yourself.”

“Fine, fine, I promise, mother hen.” Logan rolled his eyes, before kissing mother on the cheek and grabbing his bag, going for the backdoor.

When he stepped inside the tattoo parlor, he could see that Roman and Remus were already turning off the lights, Roman’s curly, long, cardinal red hair pulled up in a bun, his tanned skin stained with ink, and Remus’ hair as unkept as always.

Logan wouldn’t ever admit it, but he would always melt when Roman smiled at seeing him.

“My love!” Roman exclaimed, running up to Logan and picking him up only to spin him in the air.

Logan would normally feel awfully embarassed at such a display of affection, but when there was only them and Remus, who might as well be his friend at this point? He couldn’t manage to make himself embarassed enough to reprimand his red haired love.

Love. By the stars, love. They were going awfully quick, weren’t they? He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Roman finally put him down, only to grab his face with both hands and start peppering kisses all over it. Logan was almost drunk enough on the kisses to not notice Roman was following his freckles with his lips.

“This is cute enough to make me want to take my eyes out with a spoon.” Logan heard Remus’ voice, and Roman groaned, dropping his face on Logan’s shoulder. Logan could see Remus was wearing ripped black skinny jeans over fishnets and a bright green crop top.

“Oh, fuck off, go rummage for trash you fucking racoon.”

“I have already rummaged, bitch brother of mine, tonight I get to eat the trash.”

“Oh for the love of the ghosts, I literally hate you so much – “

“Sure, sure, hey Logan, bye Logan, use protection!” Remus said as he walked out of the parlor’s doors, mounting his bike and finally going.

“Fucking trash eating little gremlin.” Roman murmured, before kissing Logan’s shoulder(well, his shirt, but it’s the thought that counts) and raising his head to look at Logan, big smile already back on his face. “So! Are you ready?”

Logan, still flustered by the kisses, simply nodded.

“Alright, my apartment is just up those stairs, you can go up and settle down while I finish closing the shop.” Roman said, before laying a final kiss on Logan’s cheek and walking towards the doors Remus had left unlocked. Logan went up the stairs, face still hot, and as he went to open the door that sat on top of them, he couldn’t help but feeling that awfully warm and fuzzy thing inside his chest when he touched the doorknob (thankfully made out of copper), as it finally hit him that yes, Roman was actually letting him inside his home without caring about what Logan could do while he was absent. If any fairy(specifically the fairies Logan grew up around) had done something like this, it would be seen as foolish, if not downright scandalous.

Logan shook his head before finally opening the door.

The apartment was...Not exactly what Logan was expecting(with the level of average drama between Remus and Roman combined, he almost expected for red theatre curtains, swords, thrones and life sized statues), but he couldn’t deny that it did fit both of the twins.

The first thing Logan noticed was that, while there weren’t any theatre curtains, there was a fair amount of red and green decoration, including but not limited to a golden and red peacock statue and a green hand showing the middle finger statue. The floorplan was open, with a living space decorated in whites and blacks right in front of a tiny kitchen decorated in the same color scheme. It probably wouldn’t fit the two brothers if there weren’t paint stains all over the furniture, along with various papers with drawings that Logan assumed were possible tattoo designs covering the walls and the fridge.

Overall it seemed like Roman and Remus had taken something that wasn’t theirs...And made it theirs.

Logan noticed there was a fireplace sitting adjacent to the couch, and there were small amounts of clutter there, like a bunch of unopened letter, a clear glass chocolate jar, silver and gold jewelry and two wands.

He set his overnight bag on the side of the couch and sit down, analyzing the drawings covering the walls while he waited for Roman.

Aproximately ten minutes later, he heard the door opening and Roman’s voice rambling.

“Well, that’s it, the shop is closed, the equipment is clean, the lights are turned off and – wow, is that a cutie sitting on my couch?”

Logan raised one eyebrow, but Roman kept looking at him expectantly. He simply sighed before saying with a smile “Yes, dear."

“I knew it, my suspicions are confirmed! The most gorgeous being is indeed inside my apartment!”

“Oh you – you are too kind.” Was the only thing Logan could say, still not used to having those exhuberant words directed at him, but not at all displeased by them.

“On the contrary, I am not kind enough!” Was the answer he received, as Roman jumped to sit on his side and grab his face with both hands. “For example, I have yet to tell you how stunning your freckles look today, they look like you were carved out of a giant diamond then strategically painted over with the finest pigments one could find – “

“Oh – Roman.“Was all Logan could say, as he felt his stomach fluttering like it was full of living snap-dragonflies, and Roman’s entire expression went too soft for him to handle. Luckily, Roman bent down to kiss his cheek before Logan had to decide what to do to hide his undoubtedly lovesick expression. The peck on his cheek went on for long enough that he could calm down. Roman looked at him before leaving a final quick kiss on the other cheek and retreating.

“I have vegetable and mushroom pie, butterscotch pie, linean bread, and cinnamon rolls in the shape of a bunny. Do you want to eat before watching the movie or after?”

“I’d like to eat before. It’s hard for me to concentrate on the movie if I am eating.” Logan responded, trying not to get distracted by Roman’s hand on his cheek.

“Ok.” Roman said, before letting go of him and getting up. “ You can go change while I set the table, if you want. The bathroom is that door on the left.”

Logan nodded and got up, going in the direction of the bathrooom as Roman went in the direction of the fridge.

The bathroom was a small, simple one, with slightly off white tiles on the walls and floor, a normal toilet, sink and shower. He set the bag down on the toilet to grab his pajamas, a knee length, dark blue pajamas skirt and a black baggy t-shirt. He put on simple black socks before closing his bag and getting out of the bathroom.

Roman had already set the table, it seemed, as he was getting out of what Logan assumed was his bedroom, finishing the process of putting on a red tank top over white sweatpants.

“Hey.” Roman said, grabbing Logan’s hand and leading him to the small square glass table on the space to the side of the living space, on which was laid out all of the food he had mentioned before. “What do you want?”

“I’ll have the vegetable pie, and I want to try the bread, I’ve never heard of it.”

“Oh, then you’re in for a treat, my love, it’s bread made in Linea, the elf nation I – that is, the elf nation my mother comes from. It’s made with ground lineo and mock-turtle milk, so the texture is different from wheat bread, and it’s savory.”

Logan simply nodded, grabbing butter and spreading it on one of the orange colored slices of bread that had already been cut, before cutting out a slice of the vegetable pie.

He went for the bread first, and it was...Delicious, certainly, but also not what he was accustomed to. The texture was less starchy and more smooth, more, well, damp, than wheat bread. It tasted like a mixture of ground beef, chicken, lentiles, and was almost spicy, the saltless butter balancing out the savory taste.

“This is delicious. I’ll have to introduce you to a dish to thank you for it.”

“Oh hell yeah, I can’t wait to find out what fairies eat.” Roman responded, grabbing a slice of the butterscotch pie and two cinnamon buns. Logan looked at him, amused, before saying:

“Oh, you’ll probably like it, there’s enough sugar in a single meal to rot your teeth. My favorite drink is hot chocolate with strawberry sugar and honey.”

Roman smiled like was planning something, before finally saying “Ah, explains how you’re so sweet then.”

“I – Roman.” Logan responded, slightly out of breath and only able to reach for the other’s hand so he could hold it while eating, just like the day Logan brought him to the shop’s kitchen and they – well, confessed wasn’t exactly the right word. Caught up to each other, that fit better.

“My father used to cook plenty of meat with honey for – well, it wasn’t dinner, exactly, we ate right before going to sleep, it was the only time I was allowed to ingest honey in any way, lest they had to deal with a drunk seven year old that wasn’t going to sleep soon.” Logan smiled softly while allowing his gaze to go unfocused with nostalgia for a few moments. “Now I cook too, and I couldn’t be more grateful for him.”

“Did you grow up around fairies?”

Logan’s smile widened a bit. “Yes. Mother, father and I grew up around my grandmothers, my father’s mothers. They were both fairies, and one of them was my stepgrandmother. We lived in quite a cold location, so the food was always very heavy and full of calories for our bodies to burn. By the moon, I...I miss them so much, I loved them so much.”He smiled softly at his hands, caressing Roman’s wrist, before looking back at him.” What about you, did you grow up around elves?”

Roman’s hand suddenly tightened around Logan’s own, and Logan saw an aprehensive look on his love’s face for about two seconds before he relaxed.

“I...No. Remus and I grew up with my father and stepmother. I don’t...Have the best memories about them, because well...”He trailed off, biting his lip while looking lost in thought.

“You don’t need to tell me, if you don’t want to.” Logan said, squeezing his love’s hand. Roman squeezed back, smiling at him with that besotted smile that still left Logan quite breathless.

“It’s not that, I do want to tell you. Um. Hey, love, did I ever tell you how my birth name isn’t Roman? It’s actually Valerie.”

Logan was startled enough to stop caressing Roman’s hand for about one second before he came back to himself and his task.

“I see. So I take it neither of us is cis?”

Roman let out a shaky breath, before smiling. “Yeah.”

Neither of them had felt like watching the movie, after that, and when Roman put on some romantic Disney songs, Logan couldn’t bring himself to resist the invitation to slow dance in their pajamas in the middle of the living room.

“So this is love, mmm, so this is love...” Roman sang into Logan’s neck, while the fairy traced the lines of a tattoo he had in between his shoulderblades, a red crest that depicted a castle standing before a sea and under a spiral sun. “So this is what makes life divine...”

“I cannot believe I’m the one saying this, but you, sir, are a giant nerd.” Logan said, his voice far too soft to be mocking. He then sighed “Love, huh? We are going awfully fast.”

Roman raised his head, his expression way too worried for the fairy’s taste.

“I don’t intend on stopping it. It’s...Scary, maybe, but I’m nothing but sure in what I feel for you.” Roman looked a little bit like someone had punched, before asking:

“May I kiss you?”

Logan felt like he had been punched, then, punched by how much he loved the man in front of him and wow, he was really head over heels huh.

“You most definitely may.”

The kiss wasn’t how it happened in movies. It wasn’t desperate and full of passion. It was calm and gentle and only warmed up slightly when Logan introduced tongue, and he was almost overwhelmed by how much love he could pouring from Roman and himself.

They kissed until they needed to breathe, and considering the both of them could hold their breath for longer than most species, it took a good two minutes before Logan had to break away with Roman chasing him, only to settle for kissing his neck.

Logan let out a shaky sigh as he felt Roman’s lips leave soft, gentle kisses on his skin, and he simply stood there until Roman was satisfied. When he was, he raised his head, looking at Logan with na aprehensive expression that didn’t fit the occasion.

“I...I hope the neck wasn’t too much. I could stop myself from kissing you as easily as I could stop the sea waves.”

“It was perfectly fine, dear.” Logan said, a little breathless. “But maybe we should go to sleep now. Tonight has been full of...Emotions.”

Roman smiled, before kissing Logan quickly on the lips and pulling him by the hand toward his room.

[takipsilim88116]

Steps to Forever

Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him. 

Or,

(A snippet of Mes and Thun’s life after the season finale.)

Tags: Mes Wongsakorn Thanarunsiri/Thun Thunyakorn, Post-Canon, Introspection, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff, Romance, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Domestic Fluff, Love Transcends All Boundaries

Read on ArchiveofOurOwn: Link

Notes:

I recently finished watching He’s Coming To Me and I must say that it’s definitely one of my most favorite BL series. The story touched my heart so much.

This fic is Post-Canon, vaguely set a few years after the end of Episode 8. Crossposted on ArchiveofOurOwn under TakipSilim.

Please excuse any grammatical errors and I hope you enjoy!

Steps to Forever 

Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him. 

On some days, he wondered if all of this was just an elaborate dream—that in reality, he was still stuck in the cemetery, aimlessly listening to a repeating soundtrack and wondering why none of his relatives ever bothered to visit him. As he had been unable to leave the cemetery at all then, Mes had been resigned to the fact that he was going to spend the rest of his time doing that exact routine while waiting for his turn at reincarnation. 

However, things changed for Mes when Thun saw and left candies on his unmaintained grave. Suddenly, all Mes could feel was hope—hope that there was finally someone who could see and hear him and converse with him, even if it was only once a year during the QingMing Festival. He always looked forward to seeing the younger boy because despite having A’Ngoon and P’Jeng’s friendship, Mes was still a very lonely ghost. Thun eased some of that loneliness with his smiles and his stories and his offerings of Mes’ favorite foods. Mes had resolved that he would learn to be content with just that—enjoying Thun’s company, no matter how brief it was.

But then, Thun had brought Mes out of the cemetery and had driven him around in his car, showing him the sights and sceneries he had missed these past twenty years. 

But then, Thun had told Mes that the reason he hadn’t been able to reincarnate yet was because Mes hadn’t died from a heart attack but from something else.

But then, Thun had invited Mes to live with him while they had searched for the real reason Mes passed away because Thun had wanted to help him reincarnate.

And in living and spending even more time together, Mes discovered that Thun was kind and attentive and clever and cheeky and mischievous and he couldn’t help but be endeared. He couldn’t help but want more, and foolishly hope for more. Thun was a breath of fresh air, a source of joy to him. Despite being dead for over twenty years, Mes felt alive whenever he was with the other man. 

It was painful, but Mes had to constantly remind himself that a deeper relationship between the two of them would never be possible. He had to constantly remind himself that he was already dead, and that Thun was only helping him out of pity. When the secrets surrounding his identity slowly unravelled, Mes found that he had even less reason to pursue a relationship with the only person he ever fell in love with. It didn’t matter that he knew Thun felt the same way towards him—a ghost and a human could never be together. 

But Thun was stubborn and brave and unwavering in his love for Mes, and Mes realized he never really stood a chance against Thun. Mes allowed himself to fall even deeper in love with the young man who easily became his world.

And somehow, against all odds and circumstances and expectations, they were still together now. Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him. On some days, he wondered if all of this was just an elaborate dream that his mind had conjured to help with his loneliness.

Beside him, Thun mumbles incoherently and it makes him smile. If anything, Mes thinks, this is his proof that all of this is real. Thun is right next to him on their shared bed, and he’s close enough that Mes can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

As if aware that Mes is thinking of him, Thun turns in his sleep to face him. Blindly reaching out, Thun manages to place a hand on Mes’ waist, pulling him even closer and maneuvering himself so that he ends up pillowed against Mes’ shoulder. Fondness surges up his chest at Thun’s sleepy display of affection.

“Why are you still awake, P’Mes?” he asks in a scratchy voice.

Running his fingers through Thun’s hair, Mes replies, “Ghosts don’t need sleep.”

Thun hums. “Yeah, but you like to sleep.” He lifts his head and looks at Mes. “What are you thinking of, P’Mes?”

He lets his fingers travel from Thun’s hair down to his back, tracing the curve of his spine and smiling when he feels the other man shiver. “I was thinking of you,” Mes answers softly.

Thun chuckles. “Am I that irresistible to you, P’?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “You know you are.”

Unexpectedly, Mes’ honest reply makes Thun bury his face on his chest. “P’,” he whines. 

“Did I make you shy, Thun?” he teases. When Thun raises his head, Mes sees that his eyes are twinkling. 

“I didn’t think that P’ could be so shameless,” he says, “where did my good and sweet P’Mes go, huh?” 

Mes resumes running his fingers up and down Thun’s back slowly. “I never said that I was a good boy to begin with,” he whispers. Thun’s breath hitches when Mes lets his hand travel even lower. “Shall I show you just what I mean?”

“P’Mes!” Thun half-laughs, half-gasps, scandalized by the implication. Mes can’t help but laugh out loud and soon, Thun joins him. The sound of their laughter fills the room for a good minute and it’s something Mes wants to hear for as long as he is able to.

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” Mes concedes, “you need to sleep some more. You said we’re going somewhere again tomorrow.”

(Thun made it his personal mission to take Mes out on road trips as often as he could. He had claimed that he wanted Mes to have the opportunity to visit all of the places he wasn’t able to when he was still alive. 

“But of course,” Thun had added with a grin, “I just want to have another reason to spend even more time with you, P’Mes.”

Mes’ heart had swelled with fondness for him and he had proceeded to hug Thun tightly.) 

Nodding, Thun begins to make himself comfortable on the bed. “Cuddle me to sleep, P’Mes?” he requests. Acquiescing, Mes wraps his arms around Thun, relishing the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

(It will never get tiring, Mes thinks, this feeling of holding Thun and being held by Thun. He had spent so many years without physical contact that any sort of touch from Thun—the person he loves the most—is welcome.) 

In no time, both of them fall into an easy sleep.

)+( 

They’ve been on the road for roughly an hour now. 

(Mes doesn’t know where they’re headed to. No amount of pleading or pouting from him made Thun tell him where he planned on taking them. “It’s a surprise, P’Mes,” Thun had answered every single time Mes asked. “You’ll see when we get there.” 

Mes had pouted some more, but all it did was make Thun kiss his cheek.) 

“How much farther, Thun?” he asks.

Glancing at Mes for a brief moment, Thun lets a small smile curve up his lips. “Just a bit more, P’,” he replies cheerfully. 

True to his word, they reach their destination within a few minutes. Thun parks the car on one corner and takes a deep breath. Mes looks at him questioningly, but Thun only shakes his head. “Let’s go, P’.”

Mes obediently follows him out of the car and intertwines their fingers together as a silent show of support. Thun’s nervous, Mes can tell, but he has no idea why yet. He was fine this morning and when they were on the road just a little while ago.

Thun squeezes his hand. “I wanted to show you this, P’,” he says before pointing in front of him. Mes looks to where Thun is pointing, and he finds himself awestruck at the view that greets him. 

It’s like a painting, the way the fully bloomed purple and gold flowers gently sway with the wind. The scenery is delicate and romantic, and Mes is just about to ask Thun if they can take a picture of it when he starts speaking again.

“I found this place when I first learned how to drive,” Thun begins, “I thought it looked like something out of a fairytale.” 

“It’s very beautiful,” Mes says honestly, unable to take his eyes away from the field of flowers. There were a lot of places Mes wasn’t able to visit when he was still alive, so he’s very grateful to Thun for taking the time to bring him to places like these. 

(He’s so grateful to Thun for so many things.)   

Mes feels Thun’s thumb caress the back of his hand and it makes Mes glance at him. Thun is already looking back at him, his gaze filled with unadulterated warmth. “I told myself that I’d bring the person I love to see this place with me,” Thun continues with a shy smile.

Thun takes another deep breath, seemingly gathering all of his courage. ”I told myself that I’d bring the person I love to see this place with me,” he repeats, “and that I’d propose to them right here.” 

It takes a few moments for the words to register, but once they do, Mes’ mouth falls open in surprise. From his small pouch, Thun brings out an electric incense and a pair of simple silver rings. Stunned, Mes can only watch as Thun shoots him a small smile before getting down on one knee. 

“I want to spend forever with you, P’Mes,” Thun says tenderly, sweetly, “will you do me the honor of marrying me?”   

“Thun…” he whispers, heart full and eyes watering. Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him—he’s a ghost that’s been dead for over twenty years, after all. But then, Thun has always had a way of exceeding all of his expectations and even now, that holds true.

Nodding, Mes cups Thun’s cheek with a trembling hand. “I would be honored to marry you,” he answers softly, “I would want nothing more, Thun.” 

Expression lighting up like the sun at his response, Thun takes Mes’ other hand and kisses his palm. He slides the ring onto the designated finger and smiles up at Mes with so much love and contentment. 

How fortunate he must be, Mes thinks, that he’s on the receiving end of this wonderful man’s love, that Mes has the honor of loving him back. 

Thun gives Mes the other ring and raises his hand. “Put it on for me?” he requests. Mes does as he’s asked, kissing Thun’s knuckles once he’s done. Thun stands up and takes both of Mes’ hands into his, quietly admiring the way the matching rings look.   

“I promise I’ll make you happy, P’Mes,” Thun declares and Mes can’t help but chuckle even as tears roll down his cheeks. He can’t remember ever being this happy before. 

“Oh Thun,” Mes assures him,“you already do. You make me so happy.” Thun grins and allows himself to be pulled down by Mes.

Mes can’t help but think that the kisses they share in that field of fully bloomed purple and gold flowers taste like sunlight and overflowing happiness.   

)+( 

The ring has become a comforting weight on his hand. 

Mes can’t help but smile in contentment every time he catches sight of the silver band. Thun is the same; his lips always curve up whenever he sees their rings. The rings may be simple in design, but they hold a much deeper meaning. They symbolize Mes and Thun’s promise to love and care for each other endlessly.  

If one followed logic, all of this would have been impossible. Logically, he would have reincarnated after finding out the reason behind his death. Logically, Thun would have gone on with his life after helping him find peace. Logically, they would have never fallen in love with each other in the first place because of their fundamental differences. 

Instead, Mes was allowed to stay. Instead, Thun wanted to spend the rest of his life together with Mes. Instead, Mes and Thun fell in love with each other in spite of their differences and only continued to fall deeper in love with each other everyday. 

As Mes leans against Thun, enjoying the soft sound of music and the chatter of Thun’s friends and Kwan at their engagement party, he thinks that perhaps love truly does have the power to override everything—how else could a ghost like him and a human like Thun have the chance to spend the rest of their lives together like a pair of ordinary lovers? It’s not supposed to be possible in any way.

Thun gazes at him tenderly and Mes smiles when Thun presses gentle kisses on his lips. 

It’s not supposed to be possible in any way, and yet here they are, taking their steps to forever. 

Notes:

Thank you very much for taking the time to read my fic! Please tell me what you think.

Have a great day ahead of you and stay safe!

[the-omni-princess]

How Do You Take It?

Author: @the-omni-princess​

Summary: Crazy things happen in coffee shops at 5AM, especially when Steve's favorite coffee shop is closed.

Word Count: 3.4K

Pairing: Shrunkyclunks (Cap!Steve x Modern!Bucky) Soulmate AU!

Warnings: Cursing (I think), fluff a sprinkle of angst but pretty chill

A/N: Surprise! I’m your Stucky Secret Santa! Hope you enjoy @wolfiejinn​ (though I know you saw this on A03 first)

Ya like AUs so my brain screeched Coffee Shop and Soulmate AU and I couldn’t help myself.

My first Stucky fic so I hope you like it!

-

[Masterlist]

The mission went longer than expected. Tiring, time-consuming, and way too damn long. Afterward, Steve showered then simply crashed on his bed. On the bright side, Tony and Natasha theorized that Hydra was almost fully gone, and Steve no longer would have to worry about late-night missions to take down yet another Hydra base.

Now, all he had to worry about was the stupid words on his wrist. Soul marks. The very first words his soulmate would say to him.

Steve’s Soulmark had turned into an inside joke in the Avenger’s Tower. In pretty cursive dark blue writing on his right wrist were the words “How do you take it?” Tony pretty much had a field day when he found out Steve’s words. Multiple jokes and a myriad of jabs and innuendos in passing, even Sam had teased him about his Soulmark when he moved into the tower and officially became an Avenger.

Never did he think those ridiculous words would come up again… at 4:50 in the morning.

Steve had been asleep for hours, and had woken up way too early, and was now standing in front of his favorite coffee shop… which was closed for another hour. “Well, shit,” resigned to drinking shitty coffee from Clint’s broken coffee machine, Steve made his way back to the Tower.

A glint of metal caught his attention, a girl with dark unruly curls, struggling to get a café door open as her arms were wrapped around a mountain of boxes. Ever the gentleman, and with his ma’s voice in his head scolding him for not moving faster, Steve quickly held the door open for her. Bright blue eyes looked up at him in surprise. “Oh! Thank you!” The woman disappeared inside, and glanced back at Steve, noticing the slight shiver he gave at the cold. He didn’t want to admit how the cold seemed to affect him more since he was found in the ice. It gave him flashes of icy cold water and choking and drowning before his world went black. “Why don’t you come inside, sweetheart? You’ll catch a cold out in that weather! Buck will make you a cup of coffee, least we can do since you helped me out,” the girl looked like she couldn’t have been older than twenty, yet she went a mile a minute, pulling new decorations from the boxes she was carrying as she spoke towards Steve.

Suddenly he found his voice, stepping inside the quaint café as he realized the woman in front of him was offering coffee, offering warmth. “Please, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he quickly said. He didn’t want to explain how it usually took more than a handful of shots of caffeine for him to feel anything. Thanks to the serum, coffee was more of a luxury of warmth.

“Nonsense, we’re opening in-“ she glanced at the clock on the wall, Steve following her eyes as he started to take in the relatively small café. “Almost an hour, really isn’t too much trouble. Bucky!” She called out louder, aiming her voice towards the back door, just past the small counter and glass display case already half full of pastries. “Mind making a cup of joe for this kind stranger that helped me out this morning?”

Steve stayed close to the door, taking in the details of the shop, a few tables along the wall, a handful of older seats, the pastries in the display case all had small bits of steam rolling off of them, fresh enough that Steve could smell the honey and butter off of the croissants. So wrapped up in looking at the new decorations the girl placed on a shelf, Steve didn’t really notice a new person enter the room, placing a new tray of what smelled like blueberry muffins into the display case.

The metal of the tray clanging against the metal edge of the display caught Steve's attention, his eyes taking in the newcomer. Baby blue button-down long sleeve shirt, black apron covered in flour, wearing oven mitts. Matching dark curls to the woman he helped, and icy eyes that were complemented by the shirt he was wearing, Steve felt his heart lurch uncomfortable, almost a past reminder of his heart murmurs before the serum. “Good morning- oh god you’re hot,” the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, making his face light up in pink blush, easily spreading up his cheeks and down his neck.

He turned towards Steve, raising his eyebrow just a hair answering without much thought, as if an automatic reaction, “How do you take it?” The three people in the room froze, and Steve thought he could hear this man’s heart skip a beat of two.

“Wha-what-“ He coughed lightly, trying (and mostly failing) to gain his composure. “What did you just say?” His eyes were locked onto this man, getting lost in his features, the dimple in his chin, his shorter curls falling just above his eyes- God those eyes.

“How… How do you take it?” He gulped, eyes just as wide.

“No fucking way,” The girl spoke that time, eyes fluttering back between the two.

The world seemed to slow, Steve’s racing mind quickly trying to do what he did best: strategize and make a plan. “Well… “ He finally broke the silence, giving the man, Bucky, if he remembered the girl’s words correctly, a small and shy smile. “I feel like I should apologize for the words you have. ‘Oh god you’re hot,’ probably sucked,” despite the tense surroundings and his cheeks still a very noticeable shade of pink, Steve attempted a joke.

Bucky couldn’t help but burst into giggles, grinning back at him. “Apologize?! Please tell me ‘How do you take it?’ isn’t the words you have, otherwise, I should start with the apologizing,” he shot back.

Steve stepped forward, rolling up his sleeve, showing the cursive letters of his mark. Bucky moved past the counter, pulling his sleeve up and tossing his right mitten off to expose his own mark. Steve couldn’t help himself, gently taking his wrist in his hands, his calloused fingers running over the mark. The words were in deep red, like dripping crimson blood, edged on the softest skin Steve’s ever felt in his life. “You’re really it?” Steve hated how vulnerable his voice was, but of all the things he thought would happen at 5 am, this was probably at the very end of the list. “My soulmate.”

“Hi,” he responded in kind, giving Steve the brightest smile, he’s ever seen in his life. Oh fuck, he was already whipped for this man, wasn’t he? “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but most people call me Bucky,” he introduced. “And that trouble maker, and my new favorite person, is my sister Becca.” He nodded towards the girl, still staring up into Steve’s eyes, which he most definitely wasn’t going to argue about.

“I’m Steve…” he murmured breathlessly, caught up in the very steel in his soulmate’s eyes. “Steven Grant Rogers.”

He noticed Bucky’s eyes immediately go wide. “No way. You get Captain fucking America as your soulmate?!” Becca sounded off beside them, making Steve go red again as he stepped away from Bucky. Both instantaneously regretted the move, instantly missing the other’s touch but keeping silent about it.

“Sorry, miss. Turns out, I did intrude your morning,” he said sheepishly.

“Intrude whenever you want,” Bucky mumbled, Steve’s enhanced ears hearing it easily. He couldn’t help the grin from his face, looking back towards his soulmate- his soulmate!!- noticing how red he looked.

“Why don’t you stay for breakfast?” Becca quickly took control of the situation, seeing both boys flustering near each other, it was painfully adorable truthfully.

“But the muffi-“ Bucky tried to argue, his gaze finally leaving the safety of Steve’s blue eyes to look at his sister.

“I’ve got those, sweetie. Exchange numbers and talk with your soulmate,” she drawled the word as if it was scandalous, taking the boxes with her as she rushed to the back.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Bucky looked back towards a starstruck Steve.

“Yes!” He stumbled over his words, more blush rising in his cheeks. “I’d… I’d love to.” He added, following Bucky to the table in the back corner, sitting on the side facing the door, a habit of his.

“Never answered my question, ya know?” Bucky moved gracefully to the other side of the counter, starting up the coffee machine.

“Oh! Sorry, got a little caught up is all,” he smiled sheepishly, making Bucky rolled his eyes playfully.

“Well? How do you take your coffee?” He started pouring two mugs.

“Well… I usually add like ten shots to actually feel it. Serum and all,” he wasn’t sure why he felt nervous admitting that out loud.

“Ah,” Bucky clicked his tongue faintly, pressing a few buttons on the machine before making a new mug, dumping one of the old ones in the nearby sink. “How much sugar and milk?” he called out, moving around the side, grabbing said materials from a shelf.

“As much as you’re willing to put in it and still call it coffee,” he smiled warmly, feeling strangely happy as Bucky grinned back at him.

“A man with a sweet tooth, no wonder we’re soulmates,” he teased, pouring a fair amount of milk into both mugs before pouring a staggering amount of sugar in both. Bucky grabbed a few muffins before placing the mug in front of Steve, and two muffins, chocolate chip, and blueberry. He sat across from Steve, quick to sip on his coffee.

“I lived in the Great Depression and war, I’m currently trying to compensate for all the sugar I never was able to have as a kid, Sweetheart,” he tried to joke, the pet name slipping in easily as he started to relax.

Bucky went red again at the pet name, making Steve wonder how much Brooklyn drawl bled into his words without him trying. “Well you’re welcome to your sugar fix here anytime,” Bucky smiled back.

“Is that from the pastries or from you?” Steve teased, happy all of Sam’s jabs at his flirting have helped him gotten better at it. Poor Bucky didn’t know what was coming.

“Either works for me,” he shot back, a cheeky grin lighting up his features. The rising sun of New York lit up his body from the window behind him, and Steve’s mind couldn’t help but memorize it immediately to sketch it the second he got back to the tower.

“Don’t tempt me, I’ll hold you to that.”

“I’ll let you hold whatever you want against me,” Bucky’s grin was infectious, both boys wearing matching goofy smiles as they continued to joke and share breakfast.

By the time Becca came back down to the shop with more pastries, both men were completely enamored by the other, unable to stop smiling and teasing the other as they learned more of each other. By the time Steve had to leave, he knew he was completely and utterly in love with James Buchanan Barnes.

---

Whistling and smiling, Steve practically skipped in the Tower’s main communal living room. Three different pairs of eyes looked at him baffled, confused as to the sudden change in their Captain.

“Either you got laid, or Fury gave you a vacation. What's up with you, Capsicle?” Tony looked up from his Stark Tablet, no doubt working on his latest technological advance on his suit.

“Not much,” he shrugged, grabbing his tablet from the counter before sitting on the couch, opening reports to finish.

“Yeah, I believe that,” Sam gave him a look, sarcasm laced into his voice. Steve didn’t reply, only grinning at his phone as a notification lit up his screen. He quickly responded back, the smile never straying from his face.

“Something’s wrong with Cap, he’s smiling for longer than five minutes.” Tony put his tablet down, slowly getting invested in this new mystery.

“Five bucks says it’s because he found his soulmate,” Natasha spoke up, sitting on the countertop, tilting her head with a smug smirk. “What are your bets, Clint?” She called out.

“Oh, you’re definitely right.” A voice from above stated.

“Clint, we’ve talked about you and your obsession with my vents,” Tony groaned. Steve merely ignored the comments, continuing to text Bucky.

“So? Tell us about her?” Sam pipped in, moving closer to Steve on the couch.

Steve sighed softly, “Not going to let this go, will you?”

“Nope!” Clint’s voice rang from the vent above.

“Him…” Steve’s voice was small, unsure how they would take the news. “I met him today. His name is Bucky…”

“What sorta name is Bucky?” Tony’s face scrunched up. “Of all the soulmate names, yours is named Bucky.”

“Tony-“ Steve tried to defend.

“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me his name isn’t weird! Either way, happy you found ‘em, tell us all about him,” Ever the nosy little shit, Tony tossed his tablet down and launched at the sofa to get comfortable, curling up beside an equally as excited Sam. Even Natasha moved closer, her smirk just a little bigger.

“Should I even try to ignore you three?” Steve glanced at his phone before putting it down to look at his teammates.

“What about me?!” Clint called out again.

“Sorry, Four,” Steve amended, all three Avengers in front of him giving him looks. “Okay fine. His name is James, he works at Barnes’ Café in Brooklyn, the son of the owners. The usual place I go to over there was closed but his sister, Rebecca, let me in early and that’s where I met him.” His face softened, a smile on his face as he started to tell them all about his Soulmate. His teammates could see just how whipped he was for the barista after one meeting. Sam and Natasha found it sweet, Tony, however supportive, was also shocked how in love Steve looked already. He knew how fast you could fall for your soulmate, but the man looked ready to fight wars for his soulmate.

“So when will we meet him?” Tony smiled, already making plans in his head to look into this ‘James.’ Call him over-protective, but Tony would make sure anybody his teammates loved was worthy of that love, a few background checks wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Well, I’ll ask him, but Tony,” Steve looked at one of the few friends he had made since appearing in this time, knowing him better than he thought he did, “Let me explore this before you scare him off.”

Tony held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright, but if you want to know a single detail, just ask Jarvis.”

---

Over the next few weeks, Steve made it a habit to stop by the Barnes’ Café almost every morning. Through constant visits and an equally enamored soulmate, Steve learned a myriad of details about Bucky. He knew his coffee order, a caramel latte just as sweet as Steve liked it, he knew his family, growing close with Rebecca whenever Bucky was busy in the kitchen. He knew that Bucky loved experimenting with baking and couldn’t afford to go to cooking school like he wanted so he went to NYU on a scholarship and received a bachelor’s in business, helping his parents and three younger sisters run their café. Steve knew Bucky’s favorite Avenger (other than Steve of course) was Natasha, because, and he quote, thought it was “really cool the way she told the government to fuck off.”

Now, a month later, it was finally happening. Bucky was in the elevator, hand in hand with Steve, about to meet the other Avengers.

Steve also knew on another important thing about Bucky, he was an amputee. Not that it made Steve love Bucky – oh my god he loved him – any less, but it was an important part of him. And now, Bucky was honestly nervous it would make the Avengers hate him. He knew it wasn’t that likely, but all the looks other people had given him when they saw his prosthetic had been ingrained into his head.

“I’m right here, baby, no matter what,” Steve promised in a soft voice, his grip on Bucky’s hand tightening slightly.

“I know, but what if they don’t like me-“

“Buck, we’ve been through this. They’ll love you, doll.” He kissed his head sweetly, Bucky’s face lighting up red as the elevator doors opened.

“Alright… let’s do this.” He smiled shyly as Steve led him to the communal living room where Tony, Sam, Natasha, Bruce, and Clint (finally out of the vents) stood, joking around until they saw the couple come in.

“Hey everyone, this is Bucky,” Steve spoke, gently nudging the man in front of him, Bucky only responding with an awkward wave.

“H-hi-… I mean hi!” He smiled bashfully at the quartet in front of him. “Nice to meet you all.”

“I have one very important question, James,” Clint stepped forward, narrowing his eyes at him. “Who’s your favorite Avenger? Choose wisely, and you can’t say, Cap.”

“Widow,” he responded instantly, earning a grin and a pat on the back from Clint.

“He passes all my tests!”

“Clint, honey, everyone passes your tests,” Natasha sighed softly, quickly signing something to the deaf archer.

Clint merely waved his hand, responded just as quickly before grabbing chips from the pantry and jumping onto a sofa.

“One down, four to go,” Steve joked, Sam rolling his eyes.

“I’m Sam. That birdbrain was Clint. You probably know the other three idiots trying to act intimidating, so I’ll just sit down.”

“So, Bucko,” Tony finally stepped forward, making Bucky gulp as he tried not to back right into Steve’s arms. Steve. Steve would protect him. Right? “Wait, what’s that?” The billionaire looked intrigued, pointing towards Bucky’s left hand.

“Oh! It-it’s nothing!” He quickly realized his mistake, attempting to hide his hand behind him again.

“Is that a metal prosthetic?” Tony took another step forwards, Bucky taking one back, crashing right into Steve.

“Y-yeah… lost my arm in a motorcycling accident when I was in high school, got this a few years ago-“ Tony didn’t respond, already crowding into Bucky’s space.

“Holy shit, the metal plating on this thing is incredible!” He looked back up to see the man’s terrified expression. “Oh, where are my manners?” Tony visibly softened, “We’re all pretty chill here, more curious then anything as to who the Universe decided was the perfect soulmate for Capsicle,” he explained.

The explanation calmed Bucky a bit, but the Black Widow moving closer to him, Bruce Banner at her side, made his anxiety spike again. “So? I’m your favorite huh?” Was that mirth in her voice?

“Because you told the government to fuck off,” Steve supplied, much to Bucky’s annoyance, a goofy grin on his face.

Bucky could have sworn he saw an actual smile from the assassin. “Well, welcome to the family, Bucky. It’s movie night, and we’re watching ‘Ratatouille,’ Steve’s never seen it.” Nat didn’t even glance he was as she and Bruce, who gave a small hello to Bucky as well, both sat on the couches (well Natasha and Clint sat on the floor, the soulmates once stating the rug was more comfortable) with the rest of the Avengers.

“You’ve never seen Ratatouille?!” Bucky cried out, turning on his soulmate, who had the decency to look bashful.

“I’ve been a little busy with saving the world, doll,” he tried.

“That’s no excuse! Sit your butt down, Rogers,” Bucky gave him a look, finally starting to relax for the first time since he came to the tower. Steve obliged, sitting in a love seat and pulling Bucky beside him, placing a possessive kiss on his cheek.

“Oh God, he is whipped,” Tony muttered, already trying to get Jarvis to start the movie.

“Oh, shut your mouth Tony, like you’re not the same with Pepper.” Steve teased, earning a pillow thrown at him, which he easily swatted away.

Just like that the movie began playing and everyone began to feel comfortable. As the movie started, and the music began to play, Bucky slowly curled up into Steve. Maybe this was what a soulmate was supposed to be. Not just someone you could be yourself and be just right for them, but someone you could be yourself, and be accepted and loved by their family as well. Born into, adopted, or found. Family was everything.

-

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So, this is a Stucky so I tagged my Bucky tags as well :D

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[hispeculiartreasure]

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Fourteen | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 4,000

Chapter 14/24

Warnings: Language. Flashback to a traumatic event from Bucky’s time of service that is fairly upsetting. If you’d rather skip it, do not read the italicized text at the end of this chapter.

AN: This chapter took so much out of me, I’m not going to lie. For sure, the majority of it is good feelings and fluff. But I spent a lot of time crying over this, I felt like my heart was bleeding. Please take the warning to heart, I don’t want anyone to go through any sort of anguish without a little bit of preparation. Chapter 15 is going to be a rough ride as well, just a heads up. The good news is that I’m back on my original posting schedule, woohoo! Returning to posting every other Thursday unless something changes again. I love you.

Chapter Thirteen

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

Saturday afternoon at Grand Central Station was tantamount to pure chaos, but you didn’t much mind since you’re there for a singularly joyful reason. The hubbub of both weary and excited travelers echoes across the cavernous main concourse; you can barely hear yourself think. People from all walks of life bustle around while you hover in the agreed-upon spot, waiting for a particular train to get in.

For the fourth time in 20 minutes you check the giant chalkboard along the main wall to confirm the train’s time of arrival before consulting your watch.

Soon.

Somewhere in the last 34 days you had become the girl that ran to her mailbox each day after work with hopes of hearing from her beau. A girl that missed that boy more every moment he was away, life feeling dull in his absence. A girl that was a hopeless goner. A goner who had had to scrap more than one letter because she’d written Love, Sixth Floor or All My Love, or Love you! No one had told you how difficult love letters were to write without using the word ‘love’.

As you scrambled out your door in a rush to the train station not too long ago, you’d practically run over your unfortunate mailman. He’d had a letter for you - from Pennsylvania - and he chuckled as you couldn’t contain the giant smile on your face. Even he knew what a goner you were.

You’d plopped yourself on the front steps of your apartment and torn open the envelope, reading the letter three times before you walked mooney-eyed to the station, the paper still in hand. His words reverberated in your mind. You snort at the mental image of Peggy throwing herself over a table to maul Steve to death after he’d charged her an exorbitant amount of rent during Monopoly. He said he longed for New York because you were here. Bucky adored that you got along with his family, said you fit in seamlessly. He thanked you for things that were so natural you didn’t even realize you were doing them.

Again your eyes settle on your favorite line - “You’re so familiar to my life now, I can hardly imagine a time when you weren’t in it.” Delicately you trace the word Bucky had written before your nickname - darling - then run a finger over his soothing scrawl of ‘Your Window Washer’.

There were moments when you forgot how this had all begun. How you’d noticed a handsome window washer going about his duty, how he’d gone out of his way to interact with you, to make you smile. The moments you’d tried to connect and had barely missed one another. He really had been your window washer from the start, hadn’t he? You just hadn’t known it.

Your ears prickle to attention when they hear your name ringing clearly in the severely crowded area. Looking up from the letter your eyes rove the crowd as you shove it into your pocket.

Bright, sparkling eyes meet your own across the room.

Eyes that were attached to Bucky’s thousand-watt smile. He looks tired from the journey, but only someone who knew him as well as you could tell. With his suitcase in one hand and his jacket draped over the other arm, he cocked his hat at an incorrect yet very suave angle.

With several trains having just arrived, the concourse was rapidly becoming busier. Passengers exiting the rail cars took up almost all elbow-room available, ending in a flood of people between you and Bucky.

Taking several rushed steps through the hoarde you head in his general direction, continuously searching for that hat a head above the crowd. One moment you saw it, the next you were stuck in a crush of travelers. Finally there were only a few paces between you.

You hear the clunk of his suitcase hitting the ground a split second before your feet are swept from under you, Bucky’s arms strong and secure around your waist. He takes a superfluous little twirl around, pulling a relieved giggle from you. Feeling his heart beating against your chest shockingly sent the peaceful feeling of HOME thrumming through your veins. You didn’t know it was possible to feel home in a person.

Bucky heaves a sigh, one that reminds you of a house settling after a long day of activity. A hand smooths up your back and to the nape of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. When you feel his lips press delicately to the side of your head you’re grateful he’s got a hold on you because you’re fairly certain your knees would’ve given out. For all the affection you doted upon each other, none had ever felt quite so intimate, so. . . tender.

“People are staring,” you whisper in his ear.

He pulls back, granting you a view of that rugged face you’d so dearly missed over the past month. “Don’t care,” he smarts. Then he kisses you properly, scandalizing the old ladies walking past - hell, he was even scandalizing you a bit.

“Okay Romeo,” you lean away, laughing when his lips attempt to chase yours. “Let’s not make any grandparents roll over in their graves with our excessive public displays of affection.”

With that he snorts before reluctantly setting you back on your feet, though not taking his hands from you. He doesn’t say much, just gazes into your eyes. Almost as if he was guzzling a glass of water after having gone days feeling parched, he takes you in, seeming more nourished as the seconds ticked by.

“What, do I have some lunch left on my face?”

There’s that wide grin you love so much. Bucky runs the backs of his knuckles along your jaw and murmurs, “Oh yeah, I missed you a ton.” His head dips down once more, gracing you with a kiss so ardent it steals your breath. A firm hand to his chest separates you and you remind him to behave.

He only laughs heartily and stoops down to retrieve his luggage and hat you’d apparently knocked off during your embrace. You hang his jacket over one of your arms, looping the other around his elbow. Together you walk out of Grand Central and onto the New York streets, feeling like a piece of you had just been restored.

-x-

Over the following weeks, you and Bucky are rarely apart from each other. If you aren’t sleeping or working, you’re together. Suffice it to say, absence had definitely made the heart grow fonder. During those days there was a near-imperceptible but also impossible-to-miss shift between you. In the moments of intense relief of being reunited, the gravity of the relationship dawned upon you. You wonder if you would ever have reached that point if not for the distance and time away forced upon you.

There was a particular night you truly felt the relationship deepen. August was quickly coming to a close, a sense of change coming in the air in the mornings and evenings. It was a Thursday. You and Bucky had generously - well, at the time it had felt generous, but it turned out to bear more likeness to disastrous - offered to cook dinner for the pair of you as well as Peggy and Steve. The other couple was extremely kind about the ordeal, but it had been a mess and barely edible. Thankfully there was plenty of wine and laughter around the table to make up for it.

Having set your eyes on cleaning up the remnants of your destruction of the boys’ kitchen, you were promptly shooed away by Peggy.

“No, no - you cooked for us, we’ll clean the dishes,” she commanded, practically booting you into the living room.

You collapse onto the couch with a huff, not having realized how much time you’d spent standing in the kitchen over a meal that was most definitely not worth the effort. Without much grace Bucky plopped down next to you, head knocking against the back of the sofa, hand searching for yours.

“I really am sorry, Bucky, I told you Mom hadn’t passed down her exceptional cooking skills to me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a thing or two I can teach you,” he winks before closing his eyes.

“Although I do feel like we owe Peggy and Steve some sort of tangible apology for making them sit through that.”

He waves his free hand flippantly. “They’ll be fine, they’re big kids. Be thankful you weren’t around for Peg’s burnt pot roast debacle. I don’t think I’ll ever see angrier tears again in my life.”

The faint sound of running water from the kitchen combined with the clattering of dishes signals that Steve and Peggy were no doubt side by side in front of the sink, shirt sleeves rolled up and out of the way, bumping elbows in their homey little chore. Bucky talks about his work in the garage while idly flipping pages of a textbook he’d placed in his lap. He dutifully asks after your coworkers, expresses genuine care and concern for them which never fails to warm your heart.

A hum of conversation floats into the room and you give in to your exhaustion slightly, dropping your head to Bucky’s shoulder. “Are they okay? Sounds serious.”

“Work stuff,” he mumbles. “Not that you hadn’t guessed it, but they have a hard time leaving it in the office. Which is understandable considering what they do.” Bucky shifts his arm up, offering you a place to wiggle beneath it, nice and cozy in his side.

“Mmm, saving the world and all. I mean, at least it sounds like a better talk than the one we walked in on after the baseball game.”

“That was definitely a doozy. Apparently it turned out okay and they seem to be better off because of it. Steve said something about how getting everything out into the open always suited them better than keeping feelings to themselves.”

“Makes sense, I suppose. So tell me what your latest lesson is about, maybe I can help.” Bucky pours over paperwork he’d retrieved from the desk in his room, calling attention to marks he’d made on diagrams that had confused him, underlining terms for which he had a hard time finding definitions. For quite a while you work like that on the couch, listening, pointing things out, doing your best to help where you could and encourage where you couldn’t.

You hadn’t noticed how heavy your eyes had gotten until Peggy’s voice fills the room, causing you to bolt into sitting upright again. “You better leave soon or the neighbors will start talking,” she halfway teases before offering a graceful wave; both you and Bucky mutter goodbyes.

“I’m leaving soon, I promise,” you call out before the front door clicks shut as Steve and Peggy step outside for a moment to themselves.

Minutes later Steve comes back down the hallway, sleepily bidding you both goodnight before slinking to his bedroom.

“Ugh, the walk home is going to be horrible. We waited way too late tonight.”

“I know, I know,” Bucky sighs. “Just listen to my essay about the benefits of having a key-based ignition in the future and then I’ll take ya home.”

“Okay,” you agree, eyes drooping as you focus on his steady tone.

The next thing you know, a door squeaks open. A few heavy footsteps move in your direction and you hear Steve murmur, “Oh.”

You squint one eye, then the other open against the sunlight streaming through the living room windows. Looking around, your confusion only heightens when you realize you’re in the boys’ apartment. Moving to prop up on an elbow you glance to your side to see Bucky fast asleep on the couch, his shirt rumpled from where your face had just been plastered. A pile of textbooks and sheets of paper is in disarray around Bucky’s feet. Steve was standing in the doorway from the kitchen, looking slightly uncomfortable and a little worried in his blue striped cotton pajama set peeking from under his robe.

Swiping a hand across your eyes you realize with dismay that you’re still wearing makeup, which is now smeared all over your face. “What. . . what time is it?” you groan.

Steve looks to the clock on the wall. “Uhh. . . a little after eight.”

“Well that’s not so bad for a Saturday.”

“It’s. . . it’s Friday.”

“SHIT!” you clamber to your feet.

Your exclamation startles Bucky awake, looking as disoriented as you felt and extremely bothered by the anxiety you’re radiating.

“Oh my gosh, this is horrible, this’ll ruin me - we slept together!”

Bucky looks down at his mussed clothing hurriedly before confirming everything was where it had been the previous night. “Well, technically-”

“Shut it,” you snap as you dart around the apartment. “I stayed overnight in your home, society doesn’t care about technicalities. Oh my god, I’m going to be late for work by the time I get back to my apartment to change clothes. Flannery is either going to kill me or worse, fire me - WHERE ARE MY DAMN SHOES!” 

“I’m gonna start a pot of coffee,” Steve says to Bucky before slipping from the room.

“Baby, take a breath-”

“I don’t even have time for that, why didn’t I just go home early last night? Where did I put my purse?”

“Honey, it’s gonna be okay, will you stop for a minute?” 

Eyes wide you spin to him, arms thrust out. “How is this going to be okay? Debbie probably worried about me all night AND she’s going to think I’m easy for staying at my boyfriend’s so she probably won’t want to live with me anymore-”

Suddenly Bucky’s hands grip your shoulders, forcing you to a stop. “Hey,” he says firmly, yet with a touch of gentleness. “You’re gonna call Debbie right now and tell her it was too late last night, so you slept over at Peggy’s. Would it be worse to show up to work late or not go in at all?”

“Probably show up late, she’s a stickler for punctuality,” you squeak, heart still beating out of your chest.

“Then call in sick after you talk to your roommate. You’ve been a model employee, even Flannery knows people get sick sometimes. Take another deep breath for me - there ya go. No one has to know that we accidentally fell asleep on the couch, Steve’s not gonna say anything to anyone, okay?”

You only nod, too focused on stopping the hyperventilating.

“You’re alright, c’mere.” Drawing you into his chest, you press your forehead into it, willing your tense muscles to relax. “I’m due at Harvey’s garage today, how about you come with me? I know he’d love to see you and it’d feel good to be working together again, right? We can stop by your place on our way over so you can change. How does that sound?”

Even amid the panic a part of your heart keened at the comfort Bucky was providing, at the feeling of being cared for.

A few minutes later, your relieved roommate and a surprisingly sympathetic Flannery had been called and placated. After you’d calmed down, Steve offers you coffee and cereal while Bucky changes into the coveralls Harvey had given him; Steve threatened Bucky that if he skipped breakfast again, he’d tell Winnifred.

Before you know it you’re in the garage, playfully sticking out your tongue at Harvey’s teasing about playing hookie. You forget how much working with your hands brings you peace until you’re doing it again - the stress wound in your back eases as you help Bucky on a tune-up. With a hip propped on the front of the car, you watch as Bucky follows the checklist, testing the functions of various parts to make sure they’re up to snuff.

For the first time that tumultuous morning you take a look at the man next to you. What you see sends a ripple of unease through your gut. Even though you’d both slept like the dead last night, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than they should have been and you find yourself mentally going over the last few days to remember if they were there earlier. With only his health in mind, you notice the coveralls are little looser than when he’d first tried them on for you.

“Bucky,” you ask. He hums in question from beneath the hood. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“I’m not trying to make conversation, I really want to know if you’re okay. You look tired. Well, you’ve been looking tired.”

He straightens and arches a sardonic brow. “That your way of saying I look ugly today?”

“Stop it, I’m being serious.”

“I mean, I feel tired but it’s been busy. Nothing different than usual.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“Enough.” He wipes grease from his hands before shutting the hood, evading your eyes.

“So that’s a no on sleeping. Between two jobs and school, you’re going to run yourself ragged.”

“School’s almost over.”

“You still have two more months!”

There’s a flash of emotion in his eyes you can’t quite identify before he consciously smooths it over. “I’m fine, doll. Really. I just. . .” You wait patiently. You almost think he’s not going to finish when he says, “I wanna work hard and do this right. All this is so I can have a better life. . . and so you can have one too.” He finally turns his eyes back to yours. “I’m afraid that if I don’t give this all I have, I won’t be good enough to pull it off. And I really want this to work.”

Internally you debate with yourself. More than anything you want to reassure him, to soothe him, to fix all his fears and problems. But there’s also a part of you reminding yourself that that’s not your job. It’s Bucky’s life, not yours. The last thing you wanted was to become a nag and drive him further away. 

You smile and drop the matter, hoping he’d take your concern gracefully. The rest of the day you work in semi-comfortable silence, each tip-toeing around the other and the subject.

That night, Bucky tosses and turns, your conversation playing over in his head. Maybe he’d been too harsh, maybe he should have been more gentle. Maybe he should take your advice and stop washing windows. But another voice (one that smacks of his father) pushes back, insists that all the work was necessary if he wants to be successful, to have a brighter future.

Finally, he drifts into a restless sleep, the all-consuming thoughts of a better life for himself and for you finally fading. Or so he thought.

-x-

Cold. Cold cold cold. He’d been on that fucking hill for hours with his belly buried in dirt, waiting. Waiting waiting waiting. Funny how this job required hours of waiting and only seconds of action.

Eyes slant to the watch he’d taken off and propped up on a stone. Nine minutes to go. Willing feeling to return to his hands, he flexed his grip on the familiar weapon he’d been cradling for hours.

To calm his mind, he runs the math again - latitude, wind speed, relative motion. Check, check, check.

The radio laying in the reeds buzzed softly with the other Commandos reporting in, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“He’s on the move, Barnes,” Jones relayed from his post across the street from the church, of which Bucky had a clear line of sight from his position. Bucky leans in, one eye shut against the world so he could zero in through his scope.

The target appeared in the shadows of the doorway. Schmidt’s rumored new right-hand-man, Karl Fischer, almost as psychotic as Hydra’s leader. Falsworth had been able to get chummy with some of his men over drinks the night before, learn the faction was storing weapons in the sanctuary’s basement. Parishioners had shared that their priest had mysteriously disappeared after refusing to agree to the commander’s demands last week.

Bucky knew that the individual he watched confer with Fischer was by no means a man of God, unless priests now walked around with crooked collars and Hydra weaponry stashed in their back waistband. 

The conspirators shake hands before leaning in to undoubtedly whisper two words that he had grown to loathe as they were murmured over him dozens of times while he lay strapped to an operating table in Azzano.

They pull apart and the target takes one step down the stairs.

Bucky’s finger holds tension tight on the trigger.

Two steps.

There’s a thought nibbling at the back of his mind. Begging for attention. But there’s no time.

Three steps.

The rifle’s kickback slams into his shoulder as his eye remains trained on the commotion in his scope.

Bucky blinks.

Fischer was still standing.

Had he missed? Were his calculations off? He fires again and finally sees the wretched man crumble. Then Bucky sees the other form on the ground and his stomach drops.

He hadn’t missed. Not totally.

Radio and watch forgotten on the ground he bolts for the trees, for the Harley he’d stashed beneath fallen branches before the sun had come up.

The rest of the Commandos were following the plan, corralling Fischer’s cronies before they could spread news of their leader’s demise. 

Dugan shouts something at him as he speeds into the square, all but leaping off the bike when he nears the church.

Bucky’s presence perturbed Steve; if Bucky was here, something was wrong. Stepping over the score of soldiers he’d already managed to incapacitate for the time being, he rushed to meet his friend.

“Buck, what’re you-”

He ducked a shoulder into Steve - which was more like hitting a brick wall - to move past him to the church steps.

Heavy footfalls take him over the long-dead Fischer to the small body one stair above him where Bucky comes to kneel. 

Her hair was dark, like his sisters’. She was young like them too. Except he’d never seen this much blood from one of their scraped knees.

A local. Had probably been praying inside before she went about the rest of her day. The overturned basket with meager rations strewn down the steps taunted him. 

Bucky struggled to make sense of what happened. Fischer must have slipped or perhaps had a premonition and used her as a shield right as the shot had been fired.

A shot that had taken a blameless life. Bucky’s shot.

He wasn’t naive. He knew every action taken by each soldier sent ripple effects that altered the lives of many - but he’d never been face-to-face with the outright consequence of his profession.

Being so focused on Fischer, he hadn’t even noticed another person in the vicinity. And this young woman he held - when had he started holding her? - had paid the price for it.

Gradually Bucky became aware of Steve’s insistent tugging on his shoulder.

If they broke down over every innocent caught in the crossfire they would all have lost their minds by now. Everyone had to harden that part of themselves - not for convenience, but for survival. Bucky thought he’d mastered the act, but this girl couldn’t be much older than Evie. 

“Steve, I-” Bucky sees his anguish reflected in the blue eyes of his best friend.

“I know, Buck. I’m sorry. But they’ve got her.”

Suddenly he’s sees the other villagers surrounding them, grief tracking down their cheeks. Reaching to take her away from him, to weep and mourn this sweet loved one whose time on earth was finished.

Staggering to his feet, Bucky swayed at the blood covering his clothing. Steve steadied him with an iron grip on his arm, a hand to his back.

“Mea culpa,” Bucky whispers against the wind, the sight of her unmoving eyes burning into his memory.

She wasn’t getting a better life. Why should he?

Chapter Fifteen

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