#whether or not i post stuff that is finished & planned soon is. In The Air rn

[astralzeraphias]

on the mind

[143hyunes]

when you help them shave

includes: ot8 x gn reader

genre: domestic fluff, crack(?), sfw

synopsis: you ask your bf if you can help him shave

warnings: implied established relationship, use of nicknames like baby; babe, lots of kissing, suggestive (lee know & seungmin), mention of blood in han's part, extreme **fluff**

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i saw a similar hc a while back, so i was hesitating whether i should upload this for the longest time (i've had this in the drafts since January 😭), my version is different from that one though, i can't believe i'm finally posting this. anyways i hope you like this <33 as always reblogs and feedback appreciated !!

CHAN

Days off with Chan were always eventful. Today was one such day and he was in a playful mood. The razor was in your right hand while you held onto his chin, in order to glide the razor easily across his jaw and cheeks. But Chan had other plans, you yelped out in surprise when he pulled your waist against his naked torso, the razor dropping from your hands, luckily the razor was not near his face and he didn’t get hurt. “Christopher! You could’ve seriously gotten hurt, please don’t do that again.”

“Yes ma’am!” He cheekily exclaimed, saluting you. When his hands went back to your waist again, you gave him a glare.

“What? Can’t I be close to my baby?” He said matter of factly. You sighed, you loved his cute antics, the way he was always seeking out your touch even when asleep, if he could he would never leave your side. “Okay, ok, I guess we can compromise.”

You led him out to your shared bedroom, setting the glass with water and shaving cream on the floor. When he sat down, he guided you to sit down on his lap. After you had settled on his lap, you started your handiwork on his face again. 

“All done.” You say grinning, satisfied with your work. “Finally.” He says before pulling you in for a kiss, the kiss is soft, tender and unhurried.

Both of you stop to take a breathe but don’t pull away from each other, almost sharing the same air. “I love you.” His sudden admission makes you blush. “Like I really, really love you.” He enunciated, nuzzling into your neck.

“Then will you make breakfast and do the dishes today?” He giggles.

“Anything for you baby.”

LEE KNOW

Your boyfriend’s insistence on not keeping a straight face was getting troublesome, you had been trying to shave his face for the past half an hour. He kept making goofy, semi scary expressions, you didn’t know how he could have so much control over his features. “Lee Minho, you’re really going to get hurt and ruin your shirt and it won’t be an accident.”

“I won’t hesitate to resort to violence.” You warn him again.

That seemed to make him stop but you should’ve known better, his hand had sneaked around you to get the bottle of the shaving foam. You dodged just in time but his attacks didn’t stop after his failed attempt. He finally managed to get the foam on your face. “You’re such a brat.” You scoffed.

You had to restrain him, that’s the only way you could get work done. Your left hand held both of his wrists behind his back while you used the right to shave his face, you tried to finish as quickly as possible because he could easily break free from your “constraints”. He played along though and was surprisingly cooperative. “Damn, babe I didn't know you were into that kind of stuff.”

“Shut up.” You knew you would not hear the end of it and soon his friends would also start teasing you. After you were done, you playfully, lightly slapped his right cheek. He sent you a skittish glare before caressing your neck and leaning in. You thought he would kiss you but he pulled away at the last moment. 

“Ugh,, you’re such a menace.”

“You know you love it.” You begrudgingly agree, giving his lips a chaste kiss.

CHANGBIN

“Bin, Bin!” You slowly shake his shoulders.”Don't fall asleep on me when I’m shaving your face.” You say while cupping his face, he leans into your touch giving your palm a soft kiss.

“Mhm hmm.” He hums.

You dutifully start shaving the side of his jaw again, when you clean the razor of the foam on it, you feel soft curly hair and hot breathe on your neck as he lays his head down on your shoulder.”Oh my baby is really tired, isn’t he?” You coo, your fingers massaging his scalp and he only lets out a cute grunt still laying on your shoulder. 

“Tell you what, if you let me finish shaving your face, I’ll make pancakes with chocolate chips for you.” That seems to wake him up and he obediently faces you. You laugh at his antics, the way to his heart was truly through food. 

You quickly shave the remaining hairs on his face and give him kisses all over his face. You watch as he snuggles back into the sheets, he looks so cute and endearing, you just want to bite him.

You make the pancake batter and add chocolate chips to it. You flip the last pancake and add it to the stack. Pouring his favourite apple juice into a glass, you take it and the plate of pancakes to him, you knock on the door to wake him up. He gives you a smile that you would kill for. 

His takes his first bite and smiles up at you again. “Really delicious, babe.” he says his mouthful of the pancake, he lifts his fork up for you to taste your creation. He always does this, sharing his food and feeding it to you too. 

After he’s done eating, he convinces you to take a nap with him. You can never resist him and the way his arms around you make you feel warm and safe. Slumber soon finds the both of you as you cuddle.

HYUNJIN

Hyunjin’s leaning against the wash basin, lowering his body so you can easily shave his face, he holds onto your waist for support. His hands are rubbing small circles on your waist and he’s humming along to one of your favourite songs that plays from the bluetooth speaker. Quiet nights like this where you have his undivided attention make you so giddy. 

Hyunjin always liked to hold intense eye contact, something that made you very shy at the start of you guys’ relationship, it still flusters you. His intense gaze on you right now was making your cheeks heat up, you’re always curious as to why he does that, so you decide to ask him right now.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you meekly ask him, the scrutiny of his gaze making you timid. 

“Nothing, you just look so cute while you’re concentrating on something.”

That makes you stop, your blush deepening at his confession. “But you always look at me like that.”

He seems to ponder over his next words, his lips and eyebrows quirking up, making him all the more endearing. A stray strand of hair falls into his face and you tuck it behind his ear, cupping his face. 

“It’s because I love you, I’m trying to commit your face to my memory, so you’re there even when I close my eyes.” He finally answers.

Sometimes you feel overwhelmed by the love he has for you, this feeling making you feel full, akin to having a meal with your loved ones where after your hunger is satiated due to the good food and the hearty conversations. 

Still cupping his face you lean in to kiss him, trying to convey your love and feelings you cannot describe through the kiss. And he understands, like he always does, both of you were so attuned to each other’s emotions and mannerisms like you were cut from the same clothe.

He breaks away from the kiss only to go back to kiss your forehead. It had become his 2nd favourite spot to kiss you, after you had let it slip one such night that you really liked forehead kisses because they made you feel loved and safe. 

HAN

Han had had a very eventful day today and you could tell from the way he was so excited to tell you all about it while you shaved his facial hair. He was a ball of energy even at the end of the day, his animated gestures making you smile.

He seemed to forget that you held a sharp razor in your hand and turned his head abruptly, you pulled your hand away but it was not soon enough.”Ow!” He yelped out in pain.

The razor had scratched his skin, making it bleed; fortunately the cut wasn’t too deep.

You remove the first aid kit from the bottom drawer, using the alcohol you clean his wound. It hurts your heart when he flinches from the sting of it, but you proceed to apply antiseptic cream to his wound, softly blowing on it, in hopes that it would hurt less.

You kiss the mole on his left cheek, you couldn’t resist it. He smiles, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful with the razor.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault babe, I should’ve been more attentive and not move around so much.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead.

“Let me kiss it better, unless it doesn’t hurt too much?” You grin cheekily.

He suddenly clutches the side of his face, acting like he’s in indescribable pain.”Oww, Y/N it hurts really bad, only my baby’s kisses can heal me now.”, he exclaims with a pout.

You giggle while kissing his soft lips, he leans into the kiss, holding your face.

Later you did each other’s skin care routine, you were of course careful of his wound, not wanting to hurt him. You spent the rest of the night watching anime cuddled up beside each other.

FELIX

Felix really liked being taken care of. The blush that creeped up his neck when you asked him if you could help him shave his face today, was indication enough. And you liked taking care of people. You were perfect for each other. 

The razor hovers just before his jaw while he looks at you with such a loving expression that it floors you. He looks so adorable even with his bed head, the sunlight streaming in through the bathroom windows, making his skin glow. The freckles on his face truly shining like constellations in the night sky. You were hit with a huge wave of love for him, you just couldn’t not kiss him, not when he looked at you like you had put up all the stars in the sky. So you did, feeling lucky to call him yours.

He smiled into your kiss, returning it with the same fervour.

“I love you, Lixie.” He only giggles, blush deepening. 

“Oh really? What a coincidence, because I love you too, baby.” His voice was deep and gravelly after the long hours of sleep and it was driving you crazy would be an understatement.

You only realise that you have shaving foam on your face when he wipes it off you, his movements delicate. You must have gotten it on you when you kissed him. 

After you were done, he made breakfast for the both of you, scrambled eggs for him and sunny side up for you. You loved how domestic all of this was and could imagine spending the rest of your days like this, basking in each other’s love. What you didn’t know was that Felix shared the same thoughts as you, already planning your future in his head.

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin was very apprehensive of the idea of you shaving his face, you were naturally clumsy and he was afraid you would abrade his skin.

“If I get hurt I’m suing you.”

“Kim Seungmin, do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

“No.” He says begrudgingly.

“Then you will listen to what I say.”

You gently drag the razor across his face while he stands as still as a statue. He really is afraid of you hurting him, so you decide to tease him. You flick the foam on his jaw and giggle when it lands on his hair. It looks like he has a cloud on his head, when your hand again goes to flick the foam, he grabs ahold of your wrists. “Why’re you such a brat today?”

“I just really like teasing you, Seung.” You say directly looking him in the eyes, his right hand holding onto your wrist, in between your faces. 

Releasing the grip on your hand, he leaned down, his hair touching yours and now you too, had a cloud on top of your head. “Now we’re even.”

“Hey! Not fair, you attacked when I was distracted!”

“You’re the one who started it.” He says while crossing his arms. He towered over you though it was not much, you caught him off guard when you tickled his sides. Soon enough, it turned into a tickle battle and both of you were out of breathe. 

You had no idea how it happened but he had somehow managed to cage you between his arms, your back against the glass wall of the shower. “You’re really such a brat.’ He says raising your chin with his pointer finger. “But it’s ok. I actually like it.” Before you know it, he’s leaning into kiss you. 

You don’t know how he could be so passionate with his kisses so early in the morning, his tongue fighting for dominance with yours. 

“I like being a brat for you too.”

JEONGIN

It was a lazy day in and you were cuddling with your boyfriend, when you had the idea to shave his facial hair. “Can I shave your face?” You asked as you looked up at him from where you lay on his chest. He makes a distinct sound of agreement to your question.

“Okay, let’s go.” You say pulling at his hand.

“Now? But I’m so comfortable.” He says pouting.

“What can I do to convince you?” You say nudging his side.

“Can we pleasee have Mc Donald’s for breakfast?” He asks, flashing his signature charming, dimpled smile.

“Hmm, it’s not healthy, you know that baby.”

“But-I’m also craving a hash brown. Oh what the hell, you only live once.” You say giving in.

He gives your cheek a kiss when you agree to his peculiar request.

Both of you decided to place the order after you were done shaving, since the food arrives fast. 

Jeongin was really compliant and before you knew it you were done, it was going surprisingly smoothly. He must have really wanted to eat his favourite shrimp burger.

You, however, soon realised that you had spoken too soon, as your boyfriend’s hand collided with dirty soap water and it almost spilled on you. Luckily for you his reflexes were strong and he caught the glass before it could spill on you.

“You’re such a klutz, babe.” You tch, teasing him.

“That’s not how you treat your saviour.” He haughtily replies, a lilt in his voice.

“You’re also the one who put me in harm’s way.”

“Okay, fair enough. Can we please order Mc Donald’s now?”

You go to the bedroom to find your phone and place the order. When food finally arrives, the smile on Jeongin’s face is so big that it makes you smile too. Lazy days would always be the best as long as your boyfriend was with you.

[wildelydawn]

I'm waiting for your bittersweet chocolate 90% . Will you update it? Or are you leaving it? Please answer this.🥺

Hello there! Thank you for checking in about Bittersweet Chocolate, 90%. I am not leaving it, but I am not sure when I will update it.

I don't talk about myself a lot on this blog, and I know you're not really asking about me, and perhaps the following will be way too much information and will make you and other feels really uncomfortable, but since a few people have asked about BSC90, I just want to clarify a few things.

tl;dr: I'm sad. I'll start writing and updating again soon.

I have very severe depression. And I do mean severe: the kind that where I don't get out of bed for anything, the kind that leaves my hair uncombed and unwashed for days, the kind that destroys any creative ray of sunshine in my life, the kind that worries people IRL. I zone out for hours. I have no concept of time when I do zone out. I get up out of bed when I have to, physically go to work, and immediately come back to bed when I am home. I open up my phone, muster the strength to reply to a few people, then go to Google Docs, and stare at an empty document until my phone locks. I fall asleep and repeat that cycle over and over and over again. I don't leave my apartment for anything besides work; last week was the first time I left my house in months and that was by sheer force (bless my partner for that) and I have no plans on leaving my apartment again because I simply have no will to do so. If it wasn't for my cat, I would absolutely never leave my bed. If I could, I would, and want to, just rot away in bed, and talk to no one. And I am sure many people who talk to me on here, Discord, etc. have noticed that I am taking longer and longer to reply. (In fact, I am neglecting to respond to The Woman right now, and she is someone I prioritize, always.) I could go on and on about how heavy this illness and its roots dig into me and weigh me down, and usually, I have a handle on it, and for the most part, I did! This last year These last six months have been really terrible in terms of IRL stuff, but writing, whether it's creative, or journaling, or academic, has always helped. It's always been my escape.

So you can imagine why I felt incredibly lucky to come across KinnPorsche: the Series because it does spark a lot of creativity in me. I can't believe I've written 200K words for a single fandom, let alone 150k+ words on KimChay. I spent May through November using KP and other media and writing fics to navigate my depression. I spent the last few weeks developing what I would call close friendships with people when earlier this year, I had no one to talk to. Hell, I have all the inspiration at my finger tips. I literally have projects in development with really amazing artists on here. People send me prompts and ideas and I watch my list grow and I think of how lucky I must be to be inspired. I made friends with people on Twitter. Twitter! And it's winter time, my favorite season, and I'm looking forward to the snow, the walks in cold air, my trench coats and sweater vests. And I've been updating YLTTL (which is a finished fic, but still need heavy editing.) According to the math, I should be good; I should be in a place where I can write BSC90 and update. And I should be happy.

But I am not. Right now, I am in a really bad place, and if I have the will to write, it comes in flashes that dim out rather quickly. I am frustrated. I am exercising immense self control when the urge to delete everything I've ever written and run away overtakes my head. I write things, and I delete them because nothing feels good anymore. Nothing I write feels good enough to post either. And I've never written for anyone: as in, I write for me and my health, even though BSC90 is literally for someone. But it really sucks when your own brain is telling you, "Hey! Everyone's lying to you! You're not really a good writer, and if you were, you would push past all these terrible feelings and write like you always do." And I do that often, but that methodology is not working right now because of the severity of my feelings.

Now, I am not saying that this is anyone's fault or that you or anyone who asks about my fics is a bad person or anything. I promise you that's not where I am coming from. I promise you that I appreciate every reader I have, including you. I promise you my intention with this response isn't to make you or anyone feel bad or to solicit pity or sympathy. But I do need to say something because:

1) I think people deserve honesty, no matter what.

2) I've given the "Haha I've just been really busy!" excuse over the last month and that hasn't been enough and

3) I'm beginning to feel like I'm letting people down, which I know really isn't the case, but my flickering brain is trying to convince me that I am, and my chest tells me the same thing.

I promise when I come back, Chapter 6 of BSC90 will be, I hope, worth the wait. And that despite everything I've written here, I do appreciate you asking about the story and I appreciate your patience. So please don't feel bad or some type of way if you (or anyone else) is reading this. I just want to be honest.

Thank you for reading. 🖤

[janiedean]

How are you Lavi? I was wondering, have you have shared your opinion about the end of Supernatural? I would especially love to hear your thoughts about Destiel and that love confession.

hey! I'm... extremely tired because a lot of stuff is going on that I will partially share on main about soon but has been sapping my energies a lot (i'm OOOLD) but it could be worse, thank you <3

also, wrt spn: I think I did say it in scattered posts but if you want the condensed version:

I had quit spn like early s12 at the hitler episode then I finished it after the ending because I figured I owed it to them after watching the finale live as it aired so... it was something but going in order

I actually greatly enjoyed s12-15 up to the end and I was pleasurably surprised - like okay it was the usual crazy shit half of the time and it def had gone on too long but 12-15 were eons better than the slug that was 9-11 and I had a lot of genuine fun when watching them and like they actually look/are extremely coherent for spn standards so I mostly have positive stuff on the topic like the apocalypse universe was cool, the ketch redemption arc was cool, tombstone and the tarantino episode were a masterpiece (and the 80s rock episode too sdlgkjd same as the scooby doo crossover) and I loved chuck as the villain and how meta that was

concerning deancas and the love confession: I mean as the resident idiot who had written her first deancas fic after 4x03 aired I always thought that they didn't know what they had been doing until like s5 when they realized what they were doing (sorry no one convinces that 5x03 wasn't written by someone who didn't have the deancas agenda in mind in spades) but like I generally thought that if it went somewhere it was gonna end with sam retiring and being a man of letters or smth like that and deancas going off to fight monsters in a way where you could frame it as THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS™ in places where them being gay would be frowned upon

I also thought that if anything happened whether like... either canonization or adjacent-canonization it was gonna be the last five minutes of the series finale because otherwise some parts of fandom wouldn't have let anyone involved with that show live which is why I was pleasurably shocked the confession was in ep 18 and not 20

now: I think the network authorized it and then chickened out when covid hit because the way the entire thing is structured... like sorry but this story starts with cas rescuing dean from hell, in 18 cas ends up in the empty from which he can obviously be rescued, in 19 every single plotline gets wrapped except that one in an episode that can work as a finale-finale if you leave it at that and I'm supposed to think that the og plan for ep 20 didn't include a reverse thing where dean got him out and they made out? sorry at this point bite me I'mma put my money on that esp given that...

... episode 20 is the most useless finale i've ever seen in the sense that literally nothing happens in it, the show itself had fillers where more shit happened like honestly I've never seen 40 minutes of a show that were more... a waste of time and resources and effort as that one, it looked like they told the writers they needed to have dean and sam be bros™ one of them had to die and they met in heaven again and they did that but just that X°D like sorry but the vampire porn diaries had the exact same finale template - one brother dies the other lives a happy normal life and they meet again in heaven -, s8 of tvd was vastly worsely written than spn s15 like i'm not even arguing that, but if you look at tvd finale actually shit happens in it and when you watch it it actually looks decent/wraps things up/makes you feel stuff, the spn finale is just stupid but I can't even be angry at it because imvho it's obvious they did it on purpose X°D but like tldr if the og plans hadn't been scrapped whatever they were they would have had an ep 20 where shit actually happened and that wasn't the drag it was, and like if it had come at the end of a badly written season (like tvd) I'd have just shrugged and whatever but... it came after an actually well-written season that was actually coherent with the previous four ones so I can't believe that was the real endgame content really XD

anyway: the confession was imvho absolutely ic and coherent with the entire thing starting from s4 because like sorry cas being in love with dean since then is just blatantly making sense, I never thought once it was baiting or teasing because only ppl who never watched the show would think the delivery was bad or that either misha or jensen were cringing while saying their lines, cas saying exactly the stuff he said made absolute sense in context, dean's reaction (as much as I'm sure they cut stuff) was absolutely sensed as well and no one tells me he didn't reciprocate bc the entire thing was built so that he'd admit it to himself at the very end and I mean anon my friend my comrade when I watched that episode I cried for twenty minutes straight after I finished it so X°D

like okay yeah part of it was the SEE WE WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG FUCK THE DENIERS but most of it was that I honestly was moved and I found that entire speech extremely heartfelt, meaningful and a whole lot of things I'm not sharing on main because I don't want people deciding stuff based on it but like I have zero negative things to say about that confession, I'm glad it happened and I don't regret catching up also because it happened as it really felt like the natural reaching point of cas's whole arc, I'm just sad that whatever the fuck went on with the cw they didn't let dean have a decent ending bc honestly what the fuck was that thing and they deserved to be happy without presuming they met offscreen in heaven or whatever the fuck but honestly all my issues with spn's ending are with the cw obviously getting cold feet concerning episode 20

tldr: the ending-ending sucked but up until 15x19 I thoroughly enjoyed most of what I saw nonsensical or not because at that point spn was the kinda thing you watched bc you liked it with all the faults it has, I 100% believe that the last episode sucked on purpose because I've never seen a finale done with so little effort after four seasons full of effort ever like not even penny dreadful whose finale imvho sucked on purpose sucked this much but like getting there was worth it and deancas being canon in itself was smth I never thought we'd get this explicitly and I'm very very very happy it happened, peace

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Don’t Flatter Yourself, Doll

AN: I hope you enjoy something a little different 

Summary: You and Bucky have always clashed. After a mission goes wrong things get heated between you two. 

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam xPlatonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,787

Warnings: ANGST, strong language, some violence, Smut, hate sex, unprotected sex, no foreplay, choking

“You’re really gonna storm off like that and say it’s my fault!?” Bucky scoffed at you as he tried to catch up to you. 

“It was completely your fault! If you hadn't gotten in my way then––” 

“––If I hadn’t gotten in your way?!” Bucky threw his leather jacket down on his seat as you separated in the aircraft. “If you had stuck to the plan and did what you were supposed to do we wouldn’t be leaving empty handed.”

“If I had stuck to the plan you would be roadkill right now.” You snapped back at him as you unarmed yourself. “Perhaps that would’ve been better because at least then I wouldn’t have to deal with your miserable ass and constant staring!”  

“Oh please!” Bucky huffed. “If I wasn’t around to constantly save you from one bad guy or another you'd be dead right now.” 

“Save me?!” The words made your head spin round to glare at Bucky. “That’s rich, Buck. If I recall you’re the one who always needs saving whether it was Steve or now Sam!” 

“Sam doesn’t save me!” Bucky’s nostrils flared as he strode towards you. You stood your ground, folding your arms across your chest as you stared up at the man. 

“Oh yeah? Just last week Sam had to tackle you from a speeding truck because a little girl beat you down.” You reminded him of the incident with the flagsmashers. 

“They were super soldiers!” Bucky argued, “And if I remember correctly you were thrown from the same truck.”

“Will you two quit it?!” Sam entered the aircraft finally, folding in his wings as he glowered at the both of you. “It’s both your faults we are in this mess.” 

“But he––!”

“––Shut it, (Y/n)! You know I normally agree with you rather than white panther over there–”

“–White Wolf–”

“–But you messed up. We were this close to finally getting somewhere and you both let it slip away.” Sam didn’t want to hear another argument from either of you so climbed up to the cockpit of the aircraft to get away from you both. 

“See, even your best bud said you were the one who ruined this for us.” Bucky threw his hand up in the direction of the ladder. 

“Shut the hell up, Bucky!” You dropped your arms as your anger jumped out. 

“Not so tough now you haven’t got Sam on your side.” Bucky didn’t stop. 

“I don’t need anyone on my side. He said that you fucked it up too. This just proves that if you weren’t here, the mission would’ve worked out the way it was supposed to.” You growled as you turned away from the man. 

“God you’re so infuriating!” Bucky gripped hold of your upper arm and tugged you around so you would face him. 

“Take your hand off me.” You said in a low voice, warning him. 

“Or what?” Bucky only tightened his grip. 

You shrugged before sending your fist into the man’s jaw.

Bucky stumbled back, chuckling harshly before he finally snapped. 

He surged forward, taking hold of both your arms and slamming you against the wall behind you. 

You stared straight into his eyes. Your chest heaving up and down as you tried to stay calm under his grip. 

“You really think fighting me is going to make this better?” Bucky asked through gritted teeth. 

“No but it’ll sure as hell make me feel better.” You retorted. 

Bucky smirked, sticking his tongue out of his lips as he looked away from you for a moment. 

“I should’ve just left you in the water.” Bucky’s words cut you deeper when you realised what he meant. 

Bucky had pulled both you and Steve from the water that day years ago when the Helicarriers crashed. 

“Well, the only reason I didn’t kill you when I had the chance was because of Steve.” You spat back. “But he isn't here anymore.”

“Like you’d ever have a chance––”Bucky looked back in your eyes and you took that moment to lift your feet and send them into the man’s stomach, pushing him off you. 

Bucky stumbled back, groaning at the impact of the kick in his stomach. 

You went past him, heading towards the ladder when Bucky grabbed your shoulder to keep you there. You staggered backwards at the strength of the pull but knelt down swiftly to swipe your legs under Bucky, sending him to the floor. 

Before you could even lift your foot to continue walking, Bucky’s hand snatched your ankle and brought you down with him. 

His remaining hand grabbed your other foot and pulled you down towards him. He scrambled on top of you but you used the opportunity to roll you both over, linking your legs with his arms to flip you. 

You sat with your thighs either side Bucky’s neck as you sat on his chest. 

Bucky used his enhanced strength to grip hold of your thighs with his arms before flipping you over onto the ground. 

The impact of your back hitting the hard metal floor made you lose your breath for a second but it was enough time for Bucky to secure his place on top of you. 

His legs weighed down your own, his large hands pinned down your wrists above your head and his dog tags were hitting your neck as he glared down at you. 

The air was thick from the both of your panting hot air.

You watched Bucky’s eyes flicker down to your lips and before you realised what was happening, his lips were on your own. 

Your small gasp of surprised allowed Bucky’s tongue to surpass your lips. The taste of him sent an electricity through your entire body and you kissed him back.

“I heard a bang, You guy’s haven’t killed each other down there, have you?” Sam opened the hatch and called down to you both.

Bucky stopped kissing you and you both jumped apart, rushing to your feet. 

“Not that I’d mind at this point because frankly you’re both a pain in my ass but...” Sam continued as he hadn't heard a response. 

“No, we’re fine.” You were the one to speak up as you tried to steady your breath. 

Both you and Bucky had stood apart but you had your eyes locked on each other. 

You felt something stirring inside you at Bucky’s dark gaze.

“Look you guys can hash it out for all I care just don’t hurt each other we still have stuff to do.” Sam said before you heard the hatch close again. 

There was a moment of just silence. A moment that felt like eternity before Bucky rushed towards you once again. 

His lips found yours, you wrapped your hands round the back of his neck as he picked you up and pressed you against the curved steel wall. 

His cold metal hand slid down your side and then pulled your t-shirt up to allow access to your skin. The coolness of the Vibranium sent goosebumps over your skin as he took hold of your breast.

You bit down on Bucky’s lip, scraping your teeth against the soft flesh as you tugged lightly. Bucky growled, his hand finding your neck to keep you pinned against the wall.

There was a devilish glint in your eyes that made Bucky insatiable. 

He kissed you once again, his hands tearing your t-shirt over your head, his mouth then moving to the exposed flesh of your neck and collarbone. 

Your own hands darted to the bottom of Bucky’s shirt and soon it was removed, revealing Bucky’s chiselled torso that you had seen before but never this close. 

Bucky bit down on your shoulder as he tried to undo your pants. He pulled away a moment, setting you back on your feet to help remove the garment. 

You kicked them off, instantly dropping to your knees to help Bucky with his own. 

You unbuttoned his jeans and went to drag them down when Bucky yanked you back to up his face. He kissed you as he removed his own pants, pulling his length free from his boxer briefs. 

As Bucky’s teeth grazed your jaw, you looked down to see how large his member was and you felt your core ache with need. 

“Fuck me already.” You hissed as you pulled the man’s head back by his hair. Bucky groaned at at the sudden pain but then darkly laughed.

“You didn’t say please.” Bucky smirked as he lifted your leg up in a swift motion. Pushing your panties to the side, his member was pressing against your wet sex, he was teasing you.

“Bite me.” You snarled back at him and with that he thrust his whole length inside of you. 

You winced and whined out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. You threw your head back, letting your eyes roll back with it and Bucky soaked in every second of your reaction. 

He only waited a second for you to adjust before he started thrusting inside of you. You gripped onto his shoulders, the cold metal of his left arm seemed to burn against your hot skin as he held onto you and the wall. 

“God...” Bucky moaned as you moved your hips with his. 

You let go of Bucky and found his right hand with your own. Bucky furrowed his brow in confusion as you moved it but didn’t stop pumping in and out of you. 

You placed his hand against your neck and Bucky soon realised what you wanted. 

He squeezed lightly as he fucked you hard. 

He couldn’t stop himself from watching your face twist in pleasure as he roughly thrusted against you. Your nails dug deep into his skin as you felt your stomach begin to tense. 

Bucky’s hips were becoming sloppy as sweat beaded on his forehead. You were both so close. 

His deep thrusts allowed his member to hit that sweet spot inside of you and you cried out as he did. You felt yourself curl around him and you squeezed your eyes shut as your climax rolled over you. Your walls pulsed around Bucky which only encouraged Bucky’s own finish. 

Bucky came inside of you, filling you with his hot speed as he let is forehead drop to your shoulder. 

Bucky let himself catch his breath against before he pulled out of you. He tugged up his pants, moving away from you and tossed you over your t-shirt from the floor. 

“This doesn't mean I like you.” You said through your heavy breaths as you redressed yourself. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll.” Bucky retorted as he too put on his t-shirt.

Bucky Barnes Tag List

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16 @shannon-posts​ @darkbluenovember

[icollectyoursins]

Jotaro Relationship Head Canons SFW

Because I’m a self indulgent little shit and just love to ignore all of the work I have to do, have some Jotaro head canons. I am but a humble simp, and love this man. So much.

Update as of writing this. Somehow, it got very angsty, so... yeah. Sad man vibes. Also rambly. I just kinda kept going.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: None, just angst, but nothing too serious.

Word Count: 2,985

Jotaro’s type is... I mean, it depends, like most people. I don’t think he’s super picky over appearances or things like that, it’s more whether or not he gets along with you and how long he can put up with you.  He’s polite (well, as polite as he can be) and courteous, but probably a little more apathetic when you’ve first met. Once you’ve been around for a while he’s more relaxed and almost a little more critical. Mostly because you’re his friend now and he expects more from his friends.

While I was writing this I sort of realized that he could be aromantic. Maybe it’s just my own aro tendencies coming through, but I thought it sort of lined up with his personality. Or at least from my experience with romantic attraction.

Eventually, though, he’ll admit he cares about you a little more than he cares about others. It comes through in little almost compliments. “You did good. Keep it up” or “good job, dealing with this” are common phrases that sound nice on the surface, but it almost feels like he’s trying to pressure you to do more, which is far from the truth.  

If it’s not awkward compliments like that, it’s awkward gifts. Always something you had briefly mentioned wanting or stared at a minute longer than you usually do, wrapped in a paper that’s your favourite colour or pattern. Sometimes, though, it’s something you’ve never mentioned that he somehow guessed would be something you wanted.

At the same time, though, he’s oblivious or at least acts like he is. There may be times when he goes home after you said something exceptionally sweet to him or that just means so much and he’ll just take a moment sitting at his desk to mull over what you said.

    With a grunt, Jotaro rolled back into the armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and today’s newspaper in the other, since he didn’t get to read it this morning. It’s late with the sun almost completely set, giving his room an orange hue. He tries reading the first column, something about a cat being saved from a sewer grate, but after about a minute, he catches himself drifting away, sort of staring blankly at the paper.

    He blinks hard, taking a long sip from his coffee. He must be tired. Another attempt is made at reading, this time the comics. They’re not his favourite thing, but short enough that he can focus on them. Or so he thought.

    He zones out again, face suddenly feeling very hot.

    He was thinking about you. Or, rather what you said.

    It was something so simple, so mundane.

    You had been talking about family together, exchanging drama, if you will, and he had brought up how his father had left his mother when he was very young. It didn’t bother him, he had said, after all, it was years ago and if he was being honest, he didn’t really need a father. Then, you gave him this look. It wasn’t pity or something like that. You put your hand on his knee, staring deep into his eyes.

    “Jotaro,” you said, voice soft and sweet. You struggled to say the next words, opening your mouth, sighing, then finally: “I’m not leaving you.”

    “Why would you be leaving?” He said, confused, taking it literally. Or, he pretended to be confused. It had made his heart warm with affection.

    What Jotaro hadn’t noticed at that moment was that his eyes seemed to gloss over with wet tears while talking about his father. He wasn’t over it, you understood that. How could he be? He was so young then, he probably didn’t understand what was happening or why and now that he’s a father himself, there had to be so much guilt about being the same way. It was only now that he was realizing how much you had an effect on him.

    It didn’t make him sad, by any means but... loved. He’ll say thank you tomorrow with a gift or some flowers. He hadn’t planned on meeting you for the rest of the week because he was busy, but work could wait, right? Yeah. Tomorrow.

God, it would take so long for him to get you to move in together. He’s so used to living on his own that I think he’s a little self-conscious about it. He’s not a slob by any means, but certainly a bachelor. I mean, he lived (assumedly) on his own from probably around or earlier than DiU right up until Stone Free, so it’s been a while and he’s certainly comfortable with his mess of clothes lying on the floor in the corner, but you won’t be. He cleans up before people come over, obviously, but how many times did he actually invite someone in?

When you start staying around more, he starts cleaning more, which makes him a little frustrated both coming to terms with liking someone enough that he’s actively cleaning for them once a week and also discovering that he’s a lot more gross than he thought. You would not believe how stained the counter was from coffee or how gross the filter was on the coffee maker. He takes his coffee very seriously. You begin to notice how clean everything is, well, how consistently clean everything is and it even starts to smell nicer, more floral and fresh. He bought a lavender air freshener. “It’s supposed to be calming,” he’ll say with a hint of annoyance. It’s not a bad smell to him, better than vanilla air fresheners, but it does give him a headache when he first sprays his place. You seem to like it though, so he’s willing to put up with it.

I honestly believe this man can cook, but nervous when cooking for other people. His food when he was a bachelor was good enough for him and I’m sure Holly would have shown him a lot too, but it’s not the best food. He definitely steps up his game when you’re over and even more so when you move in. He’s better with dishes that have pasta or noodles because it’s easy, but he’s not too bad behind the grill either.

When you guys finally live together, he tries to keep the cooking even, with you cooking some days and him doing the rest, but I honestly feel like unless you are a hazard in the kitchen, you would do most of it.

Jotaro would be like that with most things around the house partly because he doesn’t want you to do all the work if you don’t want to but he enjoys having a little more time to himself to either do work or... yeah, it’s just work. There are a few things that he’ll never make you do because it’s either too hard or he’s built up a routine of doing that thing a certain way and he’s convinced no one else will do it right. Like his laundry. He won’t let anyone else clean his clothes. He tried once and nothing dried right, he swears that his jacket is still damp to this day. You can fold his stuff or hang it up, but he’s running the washing machine and dryer. Also picky about how his office is cleaned.

If you asked and gave a legitimate reason for not doing a certain chore, he’ll do it, but be prepared with an excuse as to why you can’t wash the dishes or fold the laundry. He’s especially resistant if he’s working whether that be gathering information for the Speedwagon Foundation or editing his latest Marine Biology book.

Actually, can we just talk about how much this man hates folding laundry? It’s so pointless to him. Why fold it and put it into neat little piles when you’re just gonna rummage through the drawer and mess everything up? Sure, it looks nice, I guess, but not for long. He was for sure a floordrobe kind of guy, especially in his early years. He knows which ones are clean, it’s fine, just leave it. Of course, he would get better the longer you’re at his place, but still. It’s not that he’s lazy, he’s just busy and putting clothes away takes way too fucking long. (which, honestly, agreed.)

Date nights with Jotaro are... rare. I mean, you live with him, why would he want to go out and pay for something when he could do the same thing at home? They’re nice, of course, but it’s more common for him to take you out to dinner while you guys are on vacation or in a location other than home, because he doesn’t feel like cooking and it’s more special when you’re supposed to go out. Eventually, it clicks in that you are supposed to make each other feel special and will surprise you with an expensive dinner or a short cruise. If you suggest the aquarium he’ll think you’re just saying that because he’s into aquatic wildlife, but honestly doesn’t put up much of a fight and will answer any questions you or anyone else has about the fish.

He does enjoy a good relaxing movie (or documentary) night at home, though. It’s so nice to finally be finished work, settle into your super comfy couch and just chill until he gets tired. Even better when you’re lying on top of him with your head just under his chin. There’s something so soothing about smelling your perfume, shampoo, conditioner, cologne, etc. To just smell you so close to him and feel your weight. Aaah. So nice.

    The microwave beeps faintly from the kitchen signalling that popcorn was done. You trailed out soon after, tossing the bowl to mix around the butter. You smile sweetly at him, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Jotaro’s lips before settling into his lap, nestling your head just under his while stretching out your legs. His arm instinctively moves from the back of the couch to drape over your back, rubbing circles into it with his thumb.

    He sighs; relaxed, finally. He allows himself to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, just basking in your comfort. When he opens his eyes, he pulls you closer to him, feeling your heart beat almost in time with his. It was moments like these that eased his panic of losing you. You were here in his arms, safe and sound and vice versa. He was safe in yours.

Yeah, he’s a little angsty. But, can you blame him? He’s getting better, though. With help, of course. With you being around so often (and being very adamant that you’re not going anywhere) he’s able to let go a little. He’s not perfect, by a long shot and progress is slow, but it’s the little things like these that makes you proud of how far he’s come.

PDA is common, but a little restricted. When you’re out together, Jotaro’ll always have his hand on your back or shoulder. Hand-holding isn’t really a thing for him, but he will make sure you know he’s there. He’ll kiss you in public, but it’s not nearly as intimate or special as when you’re at home. Still, it’s a sweet reminder that he loves you, seeing as words of affection aren’t really his thing.

I mean, he can express himself just fine, but he still gets a little nervous saying things like ‘I love you.’ It’s more along the lines of ‘I care about you.’ Or, well. “of course, I care about you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Which... thanks. I think.

Kissing him is so nice, so you’re not too mad about him doing that instead of words. When Jotaro kisses you it’s full of a mix of emotions. Mostly caring, but on his rough days, there’s something else there. It could be worry or whatever the emotional equivalent of never letting you go is. You can always tell that he wants it to last a little bit longer. There’s something in the sad look in his eyes when he or you has to pull away. Sometimes he’s overly gentle like he’ll break you somehow, especially if you’re not a stand user or fighting-inclined (whether physical or otherwise). It’s not patronizing, or at least he tries not to be patronizing, he just prefers you safe.

    It started out simple enough. You and Jotaro were just sitting at the table, eating dinner when he got this... sinking sort of feeling. There was something in the silence between you that just sent his mind spiralling. Thoughts of you someday dying too soon for whatever reason or leaving him because he’s not there enough, stand users, car crashes, divorce. They all started to flood into his mind, fabricating that you would somehow be taken away from him.

    “Jotaro? Are you okay?” Your voice rings through; a bright light breaking the storm. He’s been staring at his plate for a while now, his eyes are dry and itchy. He looks at you and tries to say something, but the words don’t come. Is he okay?

    You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his face gently. You rub the dark circles under his eyes while kissing his forehead. Jotaro slowly wraps his arms around you, letting his face fall into your hands. You’re pulled into his lap after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair next. Finally, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

    “Thank you,” he mumbles and though you’re not quite sure why, you still say a quiet you’re welcome, silently soothing him through whatever happened.

If you couldn’t tell, he needs a lot of reassurance. Not so much words, but actions like the snippet above. I mean, he can be as strong as he wants but we all know he’s got some baggage and while he’s able to put it aside, for the most part, I think when you’re at home he’s just a little more vulnerable.

Now, onto happier things! If you like coffee or tea, he will always make you a cup in the morning. Jotaro is a very early riser except on the weekends, so he usually gets that done while reading or watching the news and when you come down, he’ll ask if you want breakfast then make it for you seeing as he’s more awake.

He loves coffee. So much. He might have a caffeine addiction, honestly. At all times of every day, you can see him with a black coffee in hand and a book or phone in the other. He will switch to decaf at some point, but you might have to switch it for him. He’s forgetful when he gets busy.

Sleeping in on the weekends is like heaven for him. The two nights (or more on holidays) that he gets a full nights rest, breakfast in bed and a warm soul to cuddle into. He’s usually big spoon with a hand just resting on your side, but please, for the love of god make him the little spoon once a week. Will never admit it or vocalize wanting it. He just grabs your hand and drapes it over him with a “good night” and then promptly passes out.

He’s a heavy sleeper but doesn’t sleep often. Once he’s out, there is nothing that could wake him up except the fire alarm or something like that. It just takes a while. Not because of trauma, but more just internal clock is delayed.

Not a bath guy, strictly showers ‘cause they’re quicker. Most of the time he’s in and out before you can invite him into yours. When you do he’s “reluctant” but showers with you are a favourite of his. He gets his hair washed for him (if he bends down), he can wash you. It’s great.

I don’t think he would want more kids. He’s getting older, busier and just doesn’t think he has the time to care for a baby, even with help. Plus, if they were anything like Joylne or god forbid him when he was younger, he might start greying sooner than he thought. Joylne is a great kid, but... she’s definitely got some of his defiance in him. One kid is fine.

He doesn’t really like pets either, hates when there’s fur on all the furniture. But, if you came home with a stray cat or two, he’s not gonna put up a fight if you say they’re not going to the pound. “Just as long as you take care of them yourself.”

You got him a betta fish once because Jotaro. Fish. Makes sense. He thought it was a little pointless at first. You can’t pet them or play fetch (not like he does those things anyway). All a fish does is sit there and look pretty. You were a little disappointed, but whatever, you’ll take care of it. Then he comes home one day with a 30-gallon tank, freshwater plants and fancy lighting to help them grow which he quietly sets up in the living room. He spent at least a half-hour deciding on where to put it.

A week later, after he’s pleased with how it looks and the tank has been cycled he puts in an order for more fish then lets your betta acclimate to the tank. “There, he’ll be happier in here. The idea of bettas not enjoying or panicking in larger tanks is a myth. He won’t be alone for long anyway. He also won’t kill everything in the tank.” Well, he hopes he won’t, each fish is different. Thankfully, the small school of tetras get along with your betta just fine. From then on, he’s in there once a week, cleaning everything, trimming the overgrowth. It is officially his tank.

[sapnoopy]

Second Place. ;; Dream x Reader

genre: angst, soulmate au, enemies to lover au.

Will be split into two parts! ^^

Clay and I would always compete over the smallest thing. Whether who can read a book faster, or who can eat the peas on our plate faster.

As we grew older, it mainly became academics and our athletic skills. But I was always second place. Sure, second place doesn’t sound bad, but I hated how Clay was better than me.

My friends and the girls around talks about if they’ve met their soulmates or what kind of mark was on their arm. It was great listening and all, but I had more stuff to focus.

My ear catches a familiar laugh glancing at the dirty blonde hair sitting on the table, fooling around with his friends. I didn’t get it. I knew I studied more, I practiced sports more, but how is he better than me? Natural selection at its finest I guess.

I peeked at my arm seeing the mark for the 50th time. The mark was a smiley face.

Putting my focus on my notes, The bell rings and everyone goes back to their seats. The teacher enters the class holding a pile of papers.

"Goof afternoon students! Hope you're having a wonderful day. Anyways, I have a announcement for you guys! We will be having a big test in two weeks!"

Groans and the sound of disappointment fills the room.

Sighing, I listen to the teacher explaining how this is a big part in our grades. The teacher ends explaining, and starts with the lesson. Feeling a buzz in my pocket, I check my phone seeing that I got a text from Clay.

Clay: Our parents planned to have dinner together. Its at 7pm.

Me: kk.

Since we live next to each other, our parents get along. Here comes the getting compared time.

Stomach filling with dread, I focus on class while having a familiar pair of eyes on me.

Time passes, I enter my house noticing no ones at home heading straight to my room. Throwing my bag to the corner of my room, I flop onto my bed and groaning in exhaustion.

I hear a light scratches on my window lifting my head of to see Patches, Clay's cat. Putting a smile on my face, I crawl to the window opening it letting the cat come in.

"Hey Patches! How are you doing today?"

Rubbing onto my body I get a meow as a response. A giggle comes out of my mouth patting her.

Patches comes to my room after school sometimes for us to cuddle and take a nap. She basically became my emotional support.

I lay down opening my arms indicating her lay down with me. I check the time seeing it's 4pm thinking I have enough time to take a nap and get ready. Yawning, I gave Patches pats and fell into deep slumber.

Waking up to the cold air hitting my face, I've noticed I forgot to close the window and noticed Patches was gone. Slightly disappointed, I checked my phone noticing the texts from Clay.

Clay: Is Patches at your place?

Clay: We're going to the restaurant together. come out at 6:30.

Clay: I'm coming in in 35 more min.

Checking the time, my eyes widen and I immediately pop out of bed running to the showroom starting the shower and stripping. I have 30 more minutes. Taking a quick shower and popping out wrapping my body in a towel I dash to my closet grabbing a gray dress. Getting changed, doing make up, yada yada all that shit.

I check the time noticed I have 3 more minutes. Grabbing stuff that I need I head downstairs going out making sure the door is locked.

"Nice. You had 14 more seconds." I hear a voice and a car that was started up.

"Shut up." I mutter rolling my eyes heading to his car opening the door and entering into the passenger seat.

Clay does the same, putting on his seatbelt and starts to drive.

Silence fills the car and my eyes are looking outside. I've noticed the same pair of eyes again staring at me making me sigh.

"Can you like, not? Stare at me? Do I look that bad?" I grumbled.

"No no. Quite the opposite. You look stunning as usual."

Heat covers my ears punching his arm getting a small 'ow' from him.

"What's wrong with you?? You ate something weird today?"

"Hey, am I not allowed to compliment or two?"

"It's just weird to get one from you."

"Okay, okay."

Our conversation ends and I look back at the window. The window reflects on Clay making me notice how good he looks. Gasping at the sudden thought of mine, I slapped myself getting a questioning look from him.

"You ok there?" He asks.

"Yeah just thinking of something. Don't mind me."

"Okay. We're almost there by the way."

We pull up at the restaurant, entering the place trying to find our parents who seemed to already be drinking. We head to our parents who finally sees us.

"Good evening Clay and Y/N! Very glad that you join dinner today. Sit down, it'll be rude to stand forever." My father exclaims.

Clay pulls a seat for me to sit in giving him small thanks. He sits down next to me grabbing a menu for us to see. Trying to see the menu more better, I get closer to Clay getting a smell of eucalyptus from him.

Picking a dish from the menu, I called for the waiter telling her what I'm ordering. Clay proceeds to do the same. The waiter leaves our table and my mother coughs getting our attention.

"So Y/N and Clay. How was school today? Anything exciting?" She asks.

"Not much ma'am. Our exams are getting closer so we have to start preparing for it." Clay replies, getting a smile from her. She looks at me suddenly changing of how she stares.

"I wish my daughter was smart as you. Always getting second place, at worst third place, what a shame. I wish you were my son instead." She laughs.

I chew my cheek in discomfort. Clay awkwardly laughs trying to say something but I stop him by lightly bumping my leg at him.

The atmosphere slightly gets awkward but Clay's father starts talking about the economy which really helps. Our food comes and we finish it peacefully without any commotion.

"Clay, we plan to go to a bar after this. Please bring home Y/N safely ok? Don't be up to late and I'll see you tomorrow." His mother pats his shoulder and he nods.

I give my farewell to the adults and head inside the car. Clay starts up the car driving back. Our ride back was very quiet but a nice quiet. We get there and I leave the car thanking Clay.

"Wait." he stops me.

"What's wrong?"

"I- nothing. Good night."

Slightly confused, I give a good night back entering the house heading to my room. I get changed and as soon as I was about to head to bed, I remember what my mother said. Sighing, I go to my desk pulling my notebooks studying for a bit.

going to cut off here cuz its getting too long lmao

ALSO sorry for not posting for awhile ;; will be active again!!

[4stars-uswnt]

My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games,  you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.  

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

���We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

[hargrove-mayfields]

this was requested by @deardmvz ! based off of this lovely post!!

Billy is released from the hospital a few months after he’s out of that place, having been dragged back to his own world a bloody mess by a group of government men in hazmat suits.

They said he was lucky to have spent as long as he did in a toxic environment and come out of it only needing a weekly breath treatment and a couple of bandages. But he knows it wasn’t luck.

Because if there was such a thing as lucky, Billy Hargrove was not it.

Rather, it was because he’d learned how to give the monsters over there what for. Didn’t hide and come whimpering at the first signs of rescue, begging for their protection like everyone was expecting him to after dealing with monsters and breathing polluted air for six months.

Six months. He couldn’t believe that. To him, on the other side, it had felt more like years.

But he’d stumbled out of that place all the same, dripping axe still gripped tight in hand, in case this was his mind giving up, in case his hell wasn’t really coming to an end after all, and in the end, he was tougher, more resilient, unafraid.

But the doctors didn’t really believe that, did they?

As soon as he was given the clear in the emergency room, onced over for physical injuries he’d thankfully avoided and the doctors having given him something that made him cough up most of the gross stuff that’d been collecting in his lungs, he was sent straight to the psych ward.

Because he could kill as many monsters as he wanted, and he could spend months as a survivor, doing what nobody before him had been able to without super powers, but he was never going to be able to shake the isolation, the uncertainty of everyday he spent over there. Not without help.

The upside down was a no man’s land, he didn’t have the time of day to think about what he’d done, who he’d lost, what had happened to him. But the moment he’s free of it, he’s back to reality.

Back to being the kid down on Cherry, with years of baggage to carry even before all this interdimensional bull that he’d never worked through. With a sister who thought he was dead, and a father who probably wouldn’t care less whether or not he was.

They see all of that, so he pushes them away, refusing every attempt the nurses make at helping him. He doesn’t want their help anyways, he doesn’t want to be in the hospital anymore, and he sure as all hell doesn’t want to be a part of some government conspiracy.

But with enough personal questions and screenings, they’re able to, a couple of weeks into the program, coax it out of him, working him up to the breaking point and the following outpouring of guilt.

Pushing him to admit things about himself he’d never had to look in the face until that hard shell he’d had to build up to protect himself from monsters of all kinds since he was just a kid dissolved away, and he was left a sobbing mess in a support group, going on and on about having chased his mother away, how he was working on chasing his little sister away.

About the way he treated his peers and the way he let others treat him. About Heather Holloway and everyone else and how he’d killed them.

Straight away they get him in to see somebody, something he doesn’t really like the sound of at first, but they say they’re willing to release him from the psych ward if he agrees to go regularly, so it’s worth a shot.

That is, until he realizes he has nowhere to go except back to his house. 5280 Cherry Lane, where Neil Hargrove, the very first monster he’d ever had to fight, would be waiting for him.

He tries to get out of it, to go back to who he was before he’d let all this stuff get to him, but it doesn’t last. He’ll bark out nasty things at the nurses and refuse to cooperate when they get to trying to evaluate his head again, but there’s no bite behind it, and he can’t keep it up.

That seemingly infinite well of hatred and pain had been drained by his time on the other side, until he just didn’t have it in him to be angry all the time anymore.

Billy tucks his tail and goes to the shrink, signs the release papers at the hospital and goes straight to that first appointment like he isn’t terrified of what will happen the minute they let him go home for the first time in forever.

Some part of him knows it’s no different than what he’d already been dealing with in intensive care, but there’s still something about being out there on his own, shooed away from what had become his sanctuary after escaping just to have some government approved doctor tell him he’s mentally unwell, that doesn’t sit right with him, and he walks out of that office even more nervous, more jittery to return than before, but he can’t avoid it forever.

The house isn’t too far from downtown where the office is, so he just walks home. He thinks of stopping at a payphone and call ahead, to let them know he’ll be coming home, but he hasn’t exactly been carrying pocket change with him, and he thinks it might be better if they’re not expecting him anyways.

It’s bitter cold outside, a dusting of snow on the ground making him walk slow over slippery sidewalks, unused to the conditions, but it’s the most fresh air he’s gotten in a long time, out in the kind of cold he can appreciate.

Over there, it was a clammy kind of cold, the type that clung to his skin and seeped into his bone, like he was under water. But this is different, the sun shining overhead taking off some of the bite, a cross wind that blew his hair back in his face and made the tip of his nose go numb.

By the time he reaches the door, he still doesn’t know exactly what he’ll say. How does one go about breaking the news to their family that they aren’t really dead?

The general idea is this: ring the doorbell, hope against hope that Neil isn’t afraid of zombies, appeal to his inner anti-government conspiracy theorist, and pray that he’ll buy it for long enough not to shoot him dead and maybe let him inside.

First step goes smoothly, and he’s ready to move on to blocking punches in the case of a kinemortophobic, but when the door is yanked open, it’s not his dad, and the rest of the plan goes out the window. It’s Max that answers, and before he has time to even process that, she wraps her arms around his torso in a hug tight enough to knock the wind out of him.

He doesn’t know what to do, this wasn’t what he’d been anticipating, so he kind of just, awkwardly pats her back and tries to ask her if he can come in, but all she does is squeeze him tighter.

Susan peers around a corner in the house, “Max, who was at the…” They lock eyes, and she trails off, a mix of relief and apprehension and maybe something like fear on her face. “Bring him inside, dear.”

Max pulls away and lets him in, wiping at stray tears with her sleeve pulled up over her hand. She waits for Billy to sit on the couch, and sits down right next to him, pressing into his side. “Where were you? We watched you die.“

“Wasn't me.” He eyes Susan, trying to communicate to Max that this was top secret, don’t tell your step-mom immediately after leaving a government facility information, but Susan chimes in.

“She told me everything. After what happened she was too upset to remember her agreement. We both signed the NDA.”

And for a second that pisses him off. Not at Max and Susan, but the agents who knew what was happening and still had the nerve to bring them in to threaten them without even bothering to mention he was still alive.

Right now that’s the part he tries to focus on. That he was still alive, and had better things to worry about than what he couldn’t change. “It was a clone. A fail safe made by the shadow in case your merry band killed me. When he died, I was trapped.”

“In the upside down?” Max’s eyes were wide as could be, the color drained from her cheeks. “But-but that almost killed Will and he was only there for like, a week.”

“Do I look like a scrawny twelve year old kid?”

“Muscles can’t protect you from toxic air, jerk.”

Susan’s looks frantic in that way she used to around Billy’s dad, who is notably not present, as she scolds, “That’s enough, Max. He’s been through a lot to get here, let’s let him ask some questions.”

It wasn’t like Billy really minded Max’s questions, he was sure he’d have quite a few himself if it was Max who had come back from the presumed grave, but he did have one of his own sitting heavy at the front of his mind. “Where’s Neil? He get his work schedule changed or something?”

“He’s gone.” Max deadpans.

At her tone, Billy feels his stomach drop, his heart stutter. “He died?”

“Heavens no. We got a divorce three months after we buried you, or what we thought was you.” Susan looks at Max tired, remorseful. “He was never the same without you.”

Things had been close to boiling over even before everything, he worried who had filled his shoes. He nods towards Max. “How bad was he?”

“Better and worse. He never laid a finger on us, but he was…”

An overdramatized shiver runs through Max as she finished her mother’s sentence, “Creepy.”

Susan nodded in agreement and explained, “So nice, so reserved, it was like we were constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“And he’s not coming back?”

“Why should he? He didn’t even tell us where he was going.” Max scoffs, missing the implication of what he asked. Seeing her still be so clueless made Billy infinitely grateful that Susan had finally given his old man the boot, even if that meant he was somewhere in the middle now.

He figures that was something he was willing to deal with if it meant Max was okay, and Neil wasn’t anywhere near her. Now he just needed to know if Susan would be expecting him to go find his dad on his own and move in with him.

He doesn’t mean to let as much tension into his voice as he does when he asks, “So what’s all this mean for me?”

“What else? You are never leaving me again, asshole.”

So it was settled, and judging from the look Susan gave him, she agreed with Max’s answer. Which was, overwhelming, to say the least.

Not that Neil had exactly been a family man, but the fact that they were willing to accept him back into their home without him around was more than Billy knew how to process just yet.

His room had already been converted into a storage space as Neil had been moving out, dragging everything that had never been unpacked in the first place out into the one space he viewed as disposable.

They thought he was dead, he couldn’t have expected them to keep his room the way he left it, and though it did sting a little when he found out half of his stuff was missing, either taken by Neil or thrown out in the process, it was soothed by Max giving him a box of all the things she knew were the most important to him, having snuck in and gone through his belongings herself.

Billy decides to let Susan keep her little storage room, it had been too drafty in there to make for a decent bedroom anyhow, so he moves into the carpeted corner of the basement, which he notices is finished now.

Before, the ceiling had been wide open, half built wooden slats coated in years of dust and cobwebs, a single exposed light bulb offering the only source of light. Now it looked like an actual room, and it made him feel something tight in his chest.

Because Neil had retiled and painted the upstairs bathroom when his first wife left him, and he had finished the basement when he thought his son had too.

Billy doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about his dad anymore. He’d been dreading the moment he would have to walk through the doors of his own house out of fear and hatred of that man, but learning he wasn’t even there, he almost missed him.

Almost. But then he thought about the way Susan and Max were now, so distinctly different in the comfort they exhibited in their own space, no longer having to constantly cower in fear of the overbearing head of the house, the person he’s free to be now that Neil isn’t around, and suddenly he’s not so remorseful.

Though he does catch Susan once, standing in the kitchen one morning and crying over an old photo of her and Neil.

He’s pretty sure, from the glimpse that he gets, that it’s from the first church registry photoshoot they did as the Hargrove-Mayfields, when the photographer had mindlessly said something like “now just mom and dad,” making both him and Max gag, which made Susan cry after it was over.

That night had been her first taste of the real Neil Hargrove when Billy got a beating in the parking lot. He still remembers the horrified look on her pale face as she told him it was alright when he apologized, snotty nose and bruises on his skin.

He knew the feeling was the same for her, torn between the man they needed Neil to be and the man he had actually been to them, so he pretended not to see her tears. Silently, she agreed to do the same, and ignore the way he sometimes sat in Neil’s chair with a glazed over look in his eye, or sighed and trained his gaze to the floor when he passed the family photos still hanging in the hallway.

It takes a long while for the three of them to settle. Max is a constant ball of excitement, reminding Billy so many times a day that she’s happy to have her brother back that he might just cry about it once he’s alone, and Susan and him are nervous 24/7, pinballing off one another as they try and fail to forget the ghosts of the house.

He thinks about leaving for a while, moving in somewhere all on his own, but his therapist tells him it’d only make things worse now, to lose his support system. Besides, he didn’t have a penny to his name, so it wasn’t like he had much of a choice but to just suck it up and stay with the Mayfields.

In the meantime, he gets himself a job working stock at Melvald’s. They had an open position after Mrs. Byers skipped town, and he thinks they would’ve hired just about anybody to try to get back on their feet after the now demolished mall almost put them out of business, even zombie boy 2.0. His boss is understanding enough, doesn’t say a word when he has to go into the back and have a panic attack when a grieving family member comes in.

They tell him that’s what’s best for him, getting out there and doing something, even if it’s not the something he would ideally be doing at this point in his life. It had never been his intention to stay in Hawkins after graduating, he wanted to go to college back in his home town, but he had to admit it was growing on him some, and setting up roots there was supposed to be good. Maybe that was just the fact he wasn’t allowed to leave talking though.

The guy they’re sending him to, he thinks is somewhat of a quack. His advice is shaky at best, and he treats Billy like some kid, giving him tasks and a reward system more fit for Holly Wheeler than an eighteen year old with enough trauma for the whole town.

So even though he does cooperate, does everything last thing the guy asks of him, he doesn’t particularly feel the need to go beyond that, face the deeper set issues his therapist doesn’t even know about.

Billy’s lack of cooperation makes the whole thing more complicated, gives him less that his therapist can tell him to work on, so he asks him just to talk to Susan.

They’re closer now than ever before, far beyond all the tension and avoidance and misplaced resentment, but they still don’t really talk about any more than what’s necessary. Things like, how was your day, could you help me with this, are you okay, but nothing substantial.

It should be easy, they’d been living under the same roof since he was twelve, so they should have plenty to talk about, it just never seems like the right time, though he has been thinking about it a lot, the way he treats her despite how much she’s done for him.

He doesn’t really have a plan to bring it up, he’s fully prepared to go back to another appointment the next week reporting no dice, but there’s one morning where the clock keeps ticking and the both of them are still wide awake in the living room, like a stalemate of who’ll give in to sleep first.

They both look like they need it, Susan’s hair is frazzled, the bags under her eyes as dark as the coffee she drinks. Billy knows he’s not looking so hot either. He doesn’t remember the last time he could go to sleep without his subconscious taking him back to that place, so he doesn’t even try anymore, just waits until he gets so exhausted he’ll pass out into a dreamless sleep.

He doesn’t know what it is that compels him to say anything, because it’s not awkward or even tense silence really, but he does, his tired voice cutting into the quiet.

“I dunno how to make it up to you.” He’s looking down at his hands, at the barely there scars that still litter the skin there. He thinks for a moment about how much worse it could’ve been, before looking to her. “I mean, I’d get it, if you didn’t want me around.”

Susan looks back at him, not having expected him to say anything really, let alone something so heavy. “What’s this about, Billy?”

“M’not even your kid, Sus. I just- I dunno. Why’d you let me back in?”

She looks baffled. “Should I not have?”

“I’m an adult. don’t need to be moochin’ off my ex-stepmom.” He feels like he had the very first time he ever met her, scared to look her in the eyes, only this time for an entirely different reason. “M’not your burden to carry.”

“Honey, you’re not mooching. You go to work, you help around the house, you help me with Max. That’s more than I could ask for.” She hesitates, unsure of how wide his boundaries are, then adds, “And, maybe you aren’t my son by any stretch of the imagination, but you will always be Max’s brother.”

He had been expecting something about his dad, always had some suspicion that he’d forced a dependent on Susan after he left, but the total opposite seems to be true, and that makes a lump rise in his throat.

In the absence of a response, Susan continues, “If there was one thing you could do for me though, I know you lie to your therapist. Don’t.”

He doesn’t have it in him to fight it, has enough sense about him to know she’s right. All he can manage is a breathless, “Okay.”

She pats him on the shoulder gentle as can be, and stands up from the couch. He doesn’t look up as she retreats to her bedroom, afraid the tears that had welled up in his eyes would spill over if he did.

When he hears her door close softly is when he lets the tears fall. It’s still a lot for him, to have someone be so casual in looking out for him in that way he still hadn’t quite grasped was possible.

The very next day Billy fesses up, and to his surprise, they don’t immediately cart him off when they hear he’s been faking. That had been his biggest fear, with the power that these people held. They’d threatened to lock him up if he ever ran his mouth, so he didn’t know what to expect.

He did feel stupid though, opening the damn for the same guy who gave him stickers for taking his meds about all the things he’d bottled up. But it works to get him into a better program than what they had him doing before, and he realized he’d had it backwards.

The fear of what they were going to do to him kept them from doing anything at all, and it gave Billy a deep sense of relief, that he’d finally broken free of that.

So instead of being assigned things like brushing his teeth or going outside for five minutes a day, which was decent advice, but completely irrelevant to what he needed, now his therapist had started telling him things like throwing out the razor blade he’d been saving for a rainy day, dumping the last of the nonprescription pills he kept in his night stand.

The more he did, the more complicated they got, until he was told that, in exchange for completing his tasks, he would only have to visit the office once or twice a week instead of every day. His last assignment before that could happen was to make amends with his past.

The most obvious thing the doc wanted him to do was forgive his parents, but Billy didn’t know where to even begin on that one, or really, if he had or hadn’t already done as much, so he went with the other way first, apologizing to everyone he had, or felt he had hurt.

He started at the cemetery. Max came with him and held his hand as he broke down graveside, begging his repentance for all the people who’d died last July. Talking to their survivors was strictly out of the question, they still thought he was the hero that tried to save as many as he could and was killed in action, not the one responsible.

That had been the story spread it the public by the people who had known all along he wasn’t really dead, monitoring his activity on the other side while they turned murderer into martyr. The more time he spent in the shrink's office, the less sure he was that even he knew what side he was on.

Apologizing to the living proves to be easier. He starts with the Sinclair kid at one of the weekly nerd meetings Max holds at their house, now that it’s safe, pulling him aside for a few to say his piece, which, judging from his reaction, Max had already done most of the heavy lifting for him.

When they came back he got fixed with a glare from the unfamiliar little girl that was always around these days, and he realized he and Lucas had that in common, a weapon of a little sister.

Next came minor inconveniences, people like Tommy who he used as a punching bag just because they were friends. Most of them blew the whole thing off, they were in high school when it happened, didn’t understand the moral dilemma of it all, and everyone but maybe one kid who he might’ve punched a little too hard when a fight broke out after football practice forgave him.

Last on his list, the one person standing in the way of what was supposedly the next step of his healing process, was Harrington.

Steve’d had his own fall from grace, and Billy fell much, much harder than he had, so it could be the easiest apology he has to do, but there were reasons it might be the hardest too. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness for the way he’d treated Steve, which he’d never even apologized for in the first place, and it seemed like a cheap shot to be doing it now, more than a whole year after beating his face in.

He tracks him down at work, rifling through shelves lined with tapes he wasn’t interested in until he had the guts to approach the counter and ask Steve to follow him outside. The bastard doesn’t even look suspicious, doesn’t hesitate in giving him his warmest smile and inviting him behind the counter instead with a, “What’s on your mind, man?

It should be awkward, uncomfortable at the very least, they're having a conversation that should be happening anywhere but in two folding chairs behind the counter at Family Video, and yet, Billy feels none of that unpleasantry, just a conviviality he’d never expect to have with Steve Harrington, of all people. T the one apology he’d expected to be turned down is accepted with a simple, “It’s okay, Billy.”

That’s what made him different. He wasn’t like Tommy, who’d told him to forget anything ever happened, or Susan, who was adamant that it wasn’t his fault; Steve actually forgave him without ignoring what he did, and that, that was what this was about.

He finds himself frequenting the video store on his off days, trying to make friends with the one person other than Max he felt like he could trust, who trusted him, and from there it turned to swinging by Steve’s place after work, going out on the weekends together, falling head over heels in love.

That last part Billy tries to deny, tries to rationalize that maybe he’s just clinging to something constant after so long in isolation, but the longer he spends around Steve, the more he knows there’s no way around it. Billy was so gone for him and his stupid hair and his stupid laugh and his stupid little family video vest.

There’s a while where he tries to distance himself a little, feeling guilty about crushing on the only person to extend the olive branch back after he got out, but then Steve starts showing up at his door, and Max would hide a guilty smile behind her hand.

Once summer hits, just a few short weeks shy of the anniversary of when the shadow got Billy, Susan and Max get more and more careful around him, like they don’t want to set him off, and he gets that. Sometimes Max or one of her little friends would mention something that had happened last July, a sort of ‘hey, remember when we,’ and he would get a little, off.

Never violent, never cruel, never the Billy he had been before, just, reserved.

He thinks they’re afraid he’s going to snap. That they’ve gotten the wrong impression from all this recovery stuff. The very last thing he wants is for Max to think just he’s a shmooze, faking being better to get on her good side.

But they’re not. They’re just want to give him his space, after everything, and he knows he’s got to get out of his head about it.

For now though, when he’s afraid he might break his promise, he takes off, but it depends on what kind of day it is where he’ll go. Sometimes it’s the pool, at the picnic table on the other side of the fence, or to the cemetery again, making the rounds between all of the markers, the ones he put there, or even to visit the totaled Camaro, sold to a junker and kept in the corner of some private property, his blood still on the seats.

Once, he’d made the mistake of going to the steelworks, just to sit on a railroad tie outside of the place for hours, having a panic attack alone as he tried and failed to forget bad memories, bruised ribs, falling fast, losing control.

None of those were particularly healthy places for him to be spending his free time, so per therapist recommendation, he starts finding better spots to hang out, places that weren’t just a way to retraumatize himself.

The problem is that in Hawkins, there isn’t anywhere really to go unless he wanted to spend all day in a dingy old diner or in half abandoned shops downtown. He liked taking Max to the drive-in on the outskirts, but the point is he needs somewhere to go away from his step-family.

When Steve finds out about his new assignment, the rides to and from work and quick drop ins just to say hello turn into days off spent at the quarry together, nights spent in front of Steve’s huge TV set.

One day after a double shift at Melvald’s, they end up out back by the pool. The air conditioning in Steve’s old house was not the best when it came to humidity, and Billy doesn’t like to be too hot. Something about the feeling is too familiar, too much like being on the floor of the sauna, sweating bullets and pleading for his life.

Heat is also one of the many things that triggers coughing fits, making him hack up his lungs from the months he spent without clean air to breath, so Steve’s ushering him outside to dip their feet in the pool and get out of the stuffy old house before he gets sick.

The smell of chlorine wading off of the pool isn’t all that much better. The strong chemicals make his nose and his throat and his whole chest burn like fire. Just the smell of it is enough that he has to try to remember that that hasn't been his reality for almost a year now, that he isn’t in the storage room at the pool downing bottles of poison.

It doesn’t bother him so much though, because the bad stuff, that’s all in the past now, isn’t it?

He tries instead to focus on the good things, on the breeze that they do get in the beating down sun and the way it carries cool air off the surface of the pool, offering more relief from the heat than they could get inside Steve’s inferno of a mansion, and on feeling the sunshine warming his skin again, the cold water and the smooth liner against his calves submerged in the pool. He even tries to focus on Steve, leaning all his weight back on his hands outstretched behind him, sitting so close to Billy their knees bump in the water every time Steve kicks his legs out.

And quite frankly, it’s not particularly hard, paying attention Steve with the way he’s practically glowing in the summer sun. As much as winter was his season, his forever pale skin and how he could rock a sweater didn’t even hold a candle to the way he looks now.

Maybe he is wearing preppy khaki shorts and a sun visor, but the way his back freckles in the summer, the skin on his cheeks and his shoulders flushing from the heat, his long hair sticking to the back of his neck with sweat, it’s a sight that makes Billy's heart pitta-pat.

Still, as nice of a view as Steve makes for, nothing can distract him from the nagging feeling that has Billy on edge. That sense that his flesh will start burning if he stays out here too long, that he’ll lose control of his body. That he’ll hurt Steve.

If Steve’s old nail bat propped against the pool shed, or their newer method of self defense, a machete from the hardware store purchased after Billy's last panic attack, hidden underneath of the chairs, offer any indication, the feeling may be mutual.

Despite the aviators perched on Billy’s nose, Steve must notice that distant look in his eye, because he offers Billy a quaint smile and, using one hand to stand up, he announces, “Be right back, gonna go get us some stuff.”

Billy nods and vaguely wonders what ‘some stuff’ means before turning his attention back to his surroundings. Back to following his therapists advice and watching the ripples in the pristinely kept water, listening to the rustle of untrimmed grass when a breeze comes through, bumble bees in the neighbors yard, anything at all that might stop his mind from wandering.

He’s almost feeling grounded again when he feels a chill run down the back of his neck. Goose pimples fan out across his skin, a deep seated cold to contrast the heat. He knows the feeling well, he’d gone through six grueling months using it as his only advantage over the monsters out to get him.

Some rational part of his mind tells him it’s just a bead of sweat rolling down his back, a loose strand of hair from the messy bun Max had put in his hair that morning brushing against his skin, the fact that his legs are still submerged in the 70 degree water, but he isn’t feeling rational after that, and he feels panic setting in again.

He wants to go run and tell Steve, wants to grab something to defend himself, but he can’t, he’s just, frozen to the spot.

The feeling is gone as quickly as it came, but everything else feels different now.

The pool water feels sticky and warm, almost like it’s sucking him in. The cement surrounding it feels rougher against his palms, and so hot to the touch. He’s scared to even blink, afraid that on the other side of that calm darkness, he’s in that hell again, and this has all been some delusion.

There’s a bang from behind him, and he’s on his feet, heart racing a thousand miles a minute. He’s just short of reaching for the machete under the chair when he notices it’s just Steve.

He’s standing by the sliding door, having pushed it open with his knee so far that the glass hit off the other door, and balancing way too much. Feeling like his legs are going to give out from under him and bringing one hand absently to his chest, Billy breathes out, “Damn it, Harrington.”

“Sorry.” There's a sheepish smile on his face, which has gone pinker than even the sunburn with a hint of embarrassment. He has a bulky radio balanced on his hip, a glass of something in each hand, and a deck of cards tucked under his chin. “A little help?”

Hurrying up the steps, Billy takes the radio before Steve can drop it and smash it to bits on the concrete. Steve takes the opportunity to explain himself, “I made lemonade, my gramma's recipe, and I thought we could use something to do.”

Maybe it’s reckless, maybe it’s the exact opposite of what he should do, but he puts the radio on the table and lets Steve distract him from that creeping feeling with mundanities.

It’s almost funny, how getting out of the house for him used to mean partying and sneaking out to wreak drunken havoc on the town. Now it meant sipping lemonade and playing double solitaire and go-fish with the fallen King poolside, like he was in some retirement community or something.

The only thing that kept him from feeling too ridiculous was the radio, which was playing a decent selection of rock music, not too much of the glitzy stuff he pretended not to like or the poppy stuff Steve definitely did.

Once the sun went down, the smallest bit of orange and pink sky disappearing behind the thick trees, and all the breeze had died out, they moved away from the pool's edge to the plastic chairs, pushing two together and sitting cross legged so they were facing one another. The night air was thick with the smell of a burning citronella candle and chlorine.

The cards had been long ago abandoned, both of them favoring just being in each other’s company, swapping stories of how bad work had sucked that day, and things like plans for the week. Billy sort of just likes having an excuse to look at Steve all night.

It’s more calm than Billy’s had in a long while since coming back, and he almost get to appreciate it before the chill comes back, this time accompanied by the distant rustling of leaves.

He could’ve pretended it was just a critter moving around or the trees settling, but then they hear the unmistakable sound of a monster's trill further out in the woods, and there’s no longer any doubt about it.

Steve freezes, looks to Billy with eyes as wide as saucers and, slowly as can be, reaches blindly behind himself until his hand closes around the base of the wooden bat, which had been moved closer as night fell.

He rises to his feet, stopping cold when the chair creaks as his weight lifts off it, trying to make as little noise as possible, an action mostly pointless with the radio still on. It’s too late anyways, they’d already been seen. Billy could feel it.

“Stay here. I’m just going to check it out.”

“No way, out of the two of us, I’m the only one who’s ever killed one of those things.” Steve looks like he wants to argue, wants to be noble and brave like he has to be for everyone else, so Billy tells him sternly, “I’m coming with you.”

And maybe Steve doesn’t refuse his help, but he isn’t looking at Billy either. His gaze, empty and exhausted, is trained on the trees, searching for signs of the monsters they’re both used to handling on their own. He leans into Billy’s side as they start into the woods, and he can feel him shaking.

The leaves and twigs all along the ground that crunch under their tennis shoes as they move deeper into the woods sound impossibly loud, drawing enough attention to their location that this was guaranteed not to be a surprise attack.

Billy would’ve preferred it that way, they were easier to kill if they weren’t expecting a fight, but he supposed he should just be grateful that they’d found them before they could make their way into Steve’s backyard and take them by surprise.

They reach a clearing and he gets a dreadful feeling like his entire body has been dipped in ice water, and he knows they're right in the middle of a swarm. Instinctively, he puts his arm out across Steve’s chest. “Stop.”

“What?” Billy doesn’t respond, but as Steve’s eyes adjust, he notices them too. About six or seven demodogs, behind trees and bushes, hiding from their prey. He whispers harshly right into Billy’s ear, “Do you think they see us?”

“No shit.”

“Then what the hell are they doing?”

“Waiting for their chance. But we’re not gonna give it to them.” He digs the heels of his Chuck’s into the dirt, grip tightening on the machete. He glances over at Steve and tries not to think too hard about the apprehension written across his features, “You ready for a fight?”

Steve pales, like he was never expecting it to get that far, but they were about thirty feet, maybe further, into the woods already, they wouldn’t be able to book it back to Steve’s house in enough time. The damn things were much too fast. He swallows hard, whispers, “How do I kill one?”

“Aim for the base of its skull. Never let it get your weapon in its mouth. Always pay attention to your surroundings.” His voice is quiet, but stern, trying not to let any fear slip into his tone that might make the other boy more afraid. He was the experienced one, if he were to let it show that he was scared, Steve might go running for the hills. “And Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Plant your goddamned feet.” Steve nods, furrows his brows and tries to force a breathy chuckle at the call back, but he barely manages a huff, and Billy can tell he’s terrified.

They don’t have time to think about it though, in the middle of a swarm he can’t let him dwell on it for too long, so he turns his attention off of Steve, and whistles, shouts “Hey, assholes! Come and get us!”

There’s a breathless second where the dogs don’t move an inch, he can tell Steve is about to say something that could’ve gotten the both of them killed so he cuts him off, “Get ready, Harrington.” One of the demodogs, he’s guessing the leader of the freakish pack based on the sheer size of it, shrieks, the cue for the others to start charging them.

These ones are fast, probably faster than even he’s used to, and he doesn’t like how close the first one gets to Steve before he brings his bat down it, so he pulls him closer by the back of his shirt, presses their backs together so there’s less room for a surprise.

The big one comes after Billy, the bigger threat of the two. The sense works as a two way street, if he can tell where they are, they can tell where he is, and they don’t like that.

It only takes him a few swings to get it stumbling, two more to finish it off, but in the time it takes him to kill the one, he loses track of where Steve is. Frantically he looks around, taking note of the location of the dogs, until he finds him in the dark a few feet off from where he is, swinging his bat at the runt over and over, making sure it was good and dead.

And Billy would be impressed, except for there was another dog charging him, just a few seconds off from closing its teeth around Steve’s arm on the backswing. It’s too close for him to try to kill it, so he kicks it, making it hiss and tumble across the muddy ground.

Steve looks over at him, blood spattered on his face and fear in his eyes. Billy wishes he could stop and appreciate the close call, but it’ll come back, and there’s another charging from the other side, so he settles for shouting, “Just remember what I told you and you’ll be alright!”

With the biggest out of the way it’s easy pickings, Billy takes out the next one that tries him quick, but another catches him off guard, clamps it’s teeth down hard on the machete, lodging it in its mouth. It gets cut bad, but not enough to really do much damage to it. If he lets go, he’s defenseless, if he doesn’t, he’s going to lose his arm.

That’s a call he’s almost willing to make, wrenching his weapon free at the risk of getting himself bit, but he doesn’t have to, because Steve takes it for him, running over from somewhere and bringing the bat down hard on the back of its head.

It would be too distracting to thank him, so he just nods his way and turns back to the last two dogs still alive, Steve taking the one that was still hiding and leaving the other for him.

At this point, he’s feeling pretty confident, one dog on its own is nothing much to worry about, and it seems it knows it too, because it stops a few feet off, daring him to come at it first. He takes his own advice and plants his feet in the dirt, daring it right back.

It charges him, and he stabs it straight through its head. It was a weak one, a last line of defense they didn’t expect to need, and it hisses out it’s final breath after only one go.

Billy hears the one Steve went after scampering off too, judging from the uneven drag of its weight across the forest floor, hurt badly enough it won’t last long.

He tries to feel for any others, but they don’t travel in packs that big, not without an order to follow. He rolls his shoulders and relaxes his stance, but he doesn’t dare dream of letting go of the machete yet. Even as it drips sticky slime and gore in thick drops onto the ground, even if it feels so heavy in his hands, also splattered with gooey blood.

There’s a moment of disturbing calm, the bodies of maimed demodogs scattered all around them as Billy tries to remind himself that they’re in his world this time, instead of him in theirs. He closes his eyes to shut out the panic and just listens.

Listens for gentle reminders that he’s in the real world. The sound of the katydids in the trees. A stray breeze rustling the leaves, dry from the relentless heat. The distant scratch of tires on pavement. Softly bubbling water from the jets in Steve’s pool.

He notices that the radio is still going, making the whole thing feel somehow more eerie, as if interdimensional monsters lurking in the neighborhood wasn’t bad enough on its own. Like when a car goes off the road, still playing a reckless teenager's final anthem. Billy wonders what song he’d like to be playing when he died. Maybe some Misfits.

But he isn’t dead, not yet anyhow, and that’s not the music that’s drifting out to where he’s still standing stock still in the woods, waiting for reality to hit him.

REO Speedwagon with Can’t Fight This Feeling carries softly out to their location, probably one of the lamest songs to fight monsters to if you were to ask Billy.

I can't fight this feeling any longer

And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow

What started out as friendship has grown stronger

I only wish I had the strength to let it show

Though he’s got to admit, it’s not a horrible song for this thing he has going with Steve. After that close call of the dogs stalking so close to his house, Billy doesn’t think he has it in him to let the chance to bring it up with Steve slide through his fingers again. He’d never forgive himself.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever

I said there is no reason for my fear

“Harrington.” When he opens his eyes again Steve isn’t there, and for a second he’s got to fear the worst. To wonder, if the dogs aren’t the only thing he’ll find dead. “Steve?”

'Cause I feel so secure when we're together

You give my life direction, you make everything so clear

“M’here, Bill.” He's leaning against a tree, his bat still held close at his side, looking winded, but alright, from what Billy can tell at least. “Just needed to, to catch my breath.”

And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

“You scared me, asshole.” Billy gathers his courage, rides the wave of adrenaline to take a step closer, until he’s hovering right in front of him, dangerously close, to say, “Listen Steve, there's something I’ve been thinking about for a while, and after this I just, I can't fight it anymore.”

He gets the memo, half-lidded eyes focusing on Billys lips, making him flick his tongue across them on instinct, tasting remnants of strawberry chapstick and lemonade dulled by the scent of copper. “Then don't fight it.”

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

Their weapons are tossed to the ground before Billy closes the small gap that was left between them, ignoring all the muck and goo and blood splattered on their clothes and their skin to cup the side of Steve’s face, kiss him as soft and as sweet as he knows how after a fight like that.

'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

Steve pulls away too soon, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he leans forward, forcing his weight onto Billy. The magic of the moment comes crashing down, when he notices how dreadfully pale Steve is, even in the darkness of the woods, untouched by street lamps or moon light.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Through gritted teeth, he mumbles into Billy’s shirt, “I think one got me.”

“Jesus, you're telling me this now?” He helps him lean back against the tree again, feeling he has the right to fret over him after a first kiss. “Where at?”

“My leg.” He says it so casual, Billy’s expecting nothing more than a nick, a last attempt at a scratch from a dying dog, but it’s bad.

Skin and muscle are torn through in a gash probably five inches long on Steve’s leg, deep enough he swears he can almost see bone. It’s already bruised dark, deep purple and black under all the blood, and bent just a little, like the bone had been cracked, but not quite broken.

Billy has to fight the urge to wince, to gag, to let any sort of panic over the severity of the bite show, because he knows Steve hasn’t seen it yet, that he’s maybe even in shock right now. The moment he let it show how bad he thought it was, Steve could pass out on him. Or worse.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Thought we were having a moment.”

“Well I’d like to have at least a few more, if you wouldn’t mind.” He sighs, but he drops the attitude. Stressed as he may be, Steve needs him level headed right now. “Can you walk?”

“Sure, yeah.” Something about the way his voice sounds like he’s struggling for air makes Billy not believe him, but he offers him his arm to let him test his weight anyways. It doesn’t go well, “Son of a mother bitch!”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take that as a no.” Billy figures it’d be better just to come back for their weapons later than to wait around for a second attack with an injured Steve, or to get sliced to ribbons carrying them and Steve back to the house. Because that’s what he’s going to have to do, from the looks of it.

He bends down and lets Steve wrap his arms loosely around the back of his neck, and hooks his hands under his knees to lift him. With his leg off the ground, he’s guessing Steve must catch a glimpse of how badly it’s torn up, because he throws his head back and mutters an “Oh shit.” to the stars.

Billy wishes his voice sounded more certain when he assures him, “You’ll be alright, just don’t look at it.”

There’s blood dripping from Steve’s leg on the grass, all on the concrete steps from the backyard that lead into Steve’s house and then the hardwood floors. Billy tries not to think about how they’re leaving behind a trail that would lead the monster straight to them.

They’d killed the dogs though, so he tries his damndest to believe that his biggest worry right now would be not being able to get the stains out before Mr. and Mrs. Harrington got back.

“Where do you keep the first aid around here?”

“Upstairs bathroom, third door on the right.”

Billy frowns. Trying to get him up the stairs was going to be awkward, the space between the wall and the banister so narrow, and Steve’s legs so long. The only way he can keep from dragging his wound against anything, which he’s almost positive would kill Steve at this point, is to turn sideways.

It feels like it takes forever to get up the steps and walk down the upstairs hallway, dodging side tables and potted plants until they reach the bathroom.

Even once they get there, Billy winces, taking in the tall, but thin door frame. “M’not fitting through here with you, Stevie. Gonna have to let you down.”

“Okay.” His jaw tightens, like he knows it’s gonna be hell to put pressure back on his leg, and Billy thinks about how he’d rather knock out the entire wall than have to watch Steve hurt himself.

But slowly, with Billy’s help, he gets his good foot back on the ground, and his arms unwrap themselves from the back of his neck. Billy keeps one hand holding tight on his hip, to keep him from toppling over while standing on one leg.

“Let me go in first, okay?” Turning around so they’re facing each other, he gives Steve both of his hands and kicks the half opened door the rest of they way open to reveal the dark bathroom behind him. He gets Steve to use the doorframe as a brace long enough that he can turn the light on, then gives him his hand again.

Steve takes the first step, hopping on one foot and making barely any progress. A steely look crosses his face, like he’s already decided what he’s about to do, and he lets his other foot down to the ground.

“That’s it, Stevie, just like that,” Billy mutters little encouragements under his breath, tries anything to keep Steve from thinking about walking on a broken leg. “Keep it coming, baby, just a few more steps.”

The closest thing to the door is a double tiered wooden shelf with magazines and towels on it, so Billy pushes the towels onto the floor with one hand and helps Steve sit down on it with the other.

Maybe it’s the wallpaper, but his complexion looks ghastly, all green and grey where he should be flushed and lively. Before he starts getting everything together, Billy puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You good?”

It was a stupid question, Steve scoffs and says, his voice strained, “No.”

“At least you’re honest.”

Steve groans and stares up at the ceiling, ignoring his leg and the puddle of blood spreading on the tiled floor. “Shouldn’t I be at the hospital right now?”

“Normally, I would say yes,” Billy crouches down by the sink, digging in the cabinets underneath it for the first aid and a rag, “But closest hospital to us is the general hospital, and they’re not going to be thinking about demodog infections. They’ll put a cast on this thing and kill you.”

“Oh.” A poor choice of words, because Steve whispers, “I’m not gonna die, am I?”

“Not if you let me take care of you.”

He soaks through three wash rags with blood before the bleeding slows down enough that Billy can clean it, and slowly the shocked state of mind he was in starts to wear off. At least, judging from the way he’s gripping the edge of the shelf he’s sitting on so hard his knuckles turn white, it’s starting to hurt him pretty bad.

But Steve stays agonizingly quiet as Billy works anyways, hardly even wincing, despite the obvious amount of pain he’s in. Billy clicks his tongue, “I know you’re holding back on me, Steve.”

“You’re one to talk.” He’s defensive, borderline hysterical. “Mister pretending to be tough just because you’ve been through this once.”

“Next time I’ll just let the dogs get you, then.”

Ignoring Billy's rudeness, Steve mutters, “It just hurts so fucking bad.” A tear he’d been trying to hold back slips past, running a track through the dirt and blood that had gotten on his face.

“I’ll get some pain meds in you in a minute, just need you to be alert for this.” 

He swallows thickly, like he’s scared. “Ready for what?”

“Well, you’re gonna need stitches.” 

“Do you even know how?” 

He didn’t. The most he’d ever sewn was a tiny hole in a jacket sleeve, but he didn’t feel it wise to tell him that. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” 

“No way. Absolutely not.” Steve grabs his hand tight to emphasize his point. “You are not coming anywhere near me with a needle.” 

“Look, the alternative is it gets infected and you lose the leg. Or, you know, since nobody has ever survived a bite, your life.” He’s not trying to be snappy, but the more blood Steve loses, the more nervous he’s getting about wasting time arguing.

“Man, could you cut back on being an asshole for like, five minutes.” Billy rolls his eyes and tries to reach for Steve’s leg again, but he pulls away from his touch, blinking real slow like he made himself dizzy or he’s getting sick, before he tacks onto the end, “I’m wounded.” 

“I know, I'm just trying to help you, Stevie. Please.” 

Sighing and running his fingers through his hair, he puffs his cheeks out with a sigh and gives in with Billy’s pleading. “Whatever, just, get it over with quick.” 

He goes back to not saying anything, biting his tongue while Billy tries to do a decent patch up. It looks somehow even gnarlier than before, with crooked and sloppy sutures, but it stops the bleeding for long enough that Billy can wrap it as tight as he can with some gauze and an ace bandage.

He sits back on the balls of his feet, and takes note of how they were definitely going to have to go to the government hospital where he’d been treated in the morning. Steve’s quiet so he asks, “Steve?” 

“M’good.” He assures halfheartedly, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands. “Doin’ just peachy fucking keen.” 

They stay upstairs, Billy completely unwilling to try to get Steve back down to the main living room on a busted leg. He'd have to worry about showering and getting the stains that’re all over the Harrington’s floors off later, right now he was just worried about making sure Steve made it through. 

There’s a second living room, a foyer, Steve calls it, at the end of the hall, so he takes him in there, lets him sprawl out on the couch while he goes to get a phone and something for Steve to take from the first floor. 

He snatches up the rotary off the coffee table, and goes digging in the medicine cabinet for pain killers. Near the back is a bottle of Vicodin, thank god for Mrs. Harrington’s many ailments and her equally surplus supply of pain pills. 

Before making his way back up to Steve, he remembers to make sure to lock the sliding doors. Not that it would do much to really stop a demodog, but it’s the thought that counts. He decides to tack a blanket up to block the glass too, in hopes that it might make their scent at least a little harder to track. 

Steve is hesitant to take his mother’s prescription, afraid of the side effects, but then he tries to drag his leg up from the floor to prop it on the coffee table so he can get more comfortable, and his mind changes right quick. He almost convinces Billy to let him take more.

Next is letting somebody know. Part of him wishes they could just sweep this whole thing under the rug and forget it, but this was a small town. The woods behind Steve’s house stretched all the way to the now empty Byers’ residence, to the Wheeler's, and from there to Hop’s cabin. 

Keeping this a secret would cost lives, that he could be sure of. One measly pack of demodogs weak enough to be taken out by the two of them was guaranteed not to be the last. This was the start of another battle, and they needed as many people as possible to be ready for it.

He sits down with the phone next to Steve on his own cushion, careful not to jostle the couch too much. “Do you know Hop’s number?” 

“Just give it here.” 

Billy watches Steve dial the number, not a fan of how instinctual an action it seems to be, and as he barely gets a word in edgewise over Hopper on the other end of the line. When he get the chance to breaks the news, the call is over almost immediately, Hop getting ready to warn everyone else. He hangs up with tears in his eyes and a defeated posture. 

The instant the phone is discarded on the side table, Steve tells him, his voice thick with tears and exhaustion and pain, “I don’t wanna do this again, Bill.” He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and shakes his head. “Just, last time, we were so close to losing Hopper, losing you, and I just- I can’t do it.”

“Hey. Look at me, Steve. It's not gonna be like last time. You got me now.” Steve does look over at him, his eyes wide, but he only cries harder. 

Not knowing what else to do, Billy tosses an arm over his shoulder and pulls him close, and Steve leans into his touch, but there’s a deep frown on his face. Billy thinks his heart breaks clean in two as he insists, in a voice so worn, so dejected, “That’s just one more thing for me to lose.” 

“I say it’s one more person looking out for you.” His heart fluttering in his chest, he prays the kiss in the woods wasn’t a heat of the moment thing, and presses another to the side of Steve’s head. 

As best he can with his leg up on the coffee table, Steve settles up against Billy's side, sighing heavy through his nose. 

Long enough passes that he thinks Steve’s fallen asleep, the pain meds would hopefully knock him out soon, but then he breaks the silence with a quiet, so gentle Billy almost doesn’t hear it, “Will you?”

“Will I what?” 

“Look out for me?” The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s embarrassed to ask, so unable to believe that somebody would care about him instead of the other way around. 

“‘Course.” Billy smiles despite the way seeing Steve so broken makes him feel, lets the fingers on one hand trail lazily up and down Steve’s arm in a way he hopes is comforting. “Even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight, remember?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but he presses himself somehow even closer to Billy and sighs a little laugh, sniffling. “God, you're never gonna let that go, are you?” 

“Hey, I’d rather remember our first kiss as being to REO Speedwagon, which is super lame by the way, than with you bleeding out in the woods, so.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve sits up a little straighter so he can look him in the face. There’s still some sadness in his expression, but there’s a hint of a smile too, and Billy will take that as a win any day. Teasingly, Steve says, “Maybe you’ll like the second one better.”

“We’ll just have to see won’t we?” He leans in, but it’s Steve who initiates the kiss this time, leading with more heat behind it than before. He tangles his hands in Billy's hair, deepening the kiss with the press of his tongue against Billy’s. 

The angle isn’t very comfortable, a crook forming in Steve’s neck to reach Billy, and they pull apart for a breath. Face flushed beet red, Steve whispers, “Hey, Billy?” 

Billy hums in response, too flustered to get his words in order, “Hm?” 

“REO Speedwagon isn’t that bad.” 

[magnetothehedgehog]

Dimension’s Ridge Announcement!

Hi everyone, With all the rise in Sonic media and the great releases coming up, such as The New sonic game in 2022,the sonic movie 2, sonic prime, and literally anything Idw has been releasing including their new side series “Imposter syndrome”, I am challenged to up my game and release information on my long running project in the works. Especially Since sonic prime and Idw is literally gonna blow out all the spoilers before I do if I don't start releasing stuff first. Since its been happening constantly, I gotta be a step ahead.

So, without further ado, I introduce you to the World of Dimension's Ridge.

Dimensions Ridge is My personal Alternate Universe that seeks to combine all aspects of sonic media. In fact, its super similar to the upcoming Sonic prime, archie and Idw Comics in this regard, with it possibly being a bit more ambitious, or at least equally as ambitious as Idw.

The Series will follow a number of favorite canon and non canon characters alike, but will also their universal counterparts and alternate universe selves.

The Main overarching plot line is that a Existence level Threat is putting everything in jepoardy. This Creature Known as an Existence Eater spreads its influence to a planet by releasing its minions into it, then after enough time, it comes to absorb the planet, thus erasing it from existence entirely, as if it had never been there in the first place. This has been happening for quite a while, until a few people caught onto it. They began leaving messages and warnings to others in a attempt to save them.

Being an existence level threat, this will take the combined effort of every Version of Sonic,Tails,Sally, Eggman and everyone else if they want anything to be left in the multi-verse. This Story is about how they all come together to do just that.

However that is the main plot. The story follows many minor or sub plotlines and stories that all connect and weave into this ultimate narrative. For Stories featuring Sonic and friends, Stories start off in the classic area and work their way into the modern area as the characters develop and mature, so we get to see and live their journey alongside them. For older characters and parents, I wanted them to have a  more staple involvement in the series, even if only at the beginning. Their Adventures as the World slowly slips into chaos can be read in War on Mobius.

While there are Prequels to the beginning of the story, such as the “Rift War.”, the main storylines that kicks off all the other starts is one of my current productions “War on Mobius.”This follows the economical and political collapse following the Recent End of The Rift War and begins the Egg Empire's rise to Power.I would like to mention that The Egg Empire Now consists of the collective versions of Eggman all working together as a family. Egg Fam for short. But we have Great additions such as boom eggman, Ova Eggman, Aosth Eggman, Satam Eggman, Russian Eggman,Eggette, and a few custom additions such as Omelette and Scramble.

Things That happen in War on Mobius will be seen effecting or influencing the states of things in my Classic Era Story “Classic adventures.” and others ones such as “The Freedom Fighters.”

Alongside canon appearances of less known or scrapped characters and designs, such as Tiara and Honey the Cat, Readers can expect appearances of my own characters, both as counterparts to main characters, and also as people who drive the story forward and show interesting and dynamic opinions of their changing world. A few Such ones would be “Tribal Ties” Focusing on the Tribes of Echidnas, Bayblonians and Pangolins Tribes, all of which play a part not only in Mobius history, but also will play a vital part in its future.

After Classic adventures, comes one of my long running claims to fame and a personal favorite of mine from my early script writing days. Zone Runners. This takes place after the Events of Classic adventures and as the world has been influenced by the political unrest in War on Mobius. It follows the Group of People on the East Side of the World as they try to fight back against the Egg Empire, Newly risen Oscillators Group, and The Very lack of Sonic and Freedom Fighter there. This series will also begin unraveling some of the mysteries behind the existence eater and the ultimate narrative. Originally this concept came from the Fleetway comics, and ever since I've been completely inspired to incorporate this into my own series. If anyone was ever on Sonic Amino, they might have seen me post things related to it back in the day.

I also wish to be a more character focused series as a whole, one who focuses on the people collectively as opposed to just Sonic himself. I want it to as if each character us actually a main character and can save the day, and that the day is only won because everyone has done their part, whether powerful or powerless.

To that End, I have many characters stories intertwine, or lead to one another. Some characters will have branching off stories, while others will be closely intertwined, and always interact with each other, regardless of who the story is currently focusing on.

A few I'd like to notable mention is, Shadow's Ark, Silvers Sanctuary, and Heir of Sol. Focusing on the characters Shadow, Silver, And Blaze Respectively.

While I have a lot of other Titles for the stories respectively, I'd just to touch on a few more before I close.

Worlds collide finally answers the question in sonic media about two planets and the dimensional connundrum of sonic rush and sonic 06. While also bringing together multiple characters who were on their own paths, for the collected purpose of setting up how everyone will be needed much later.

Dimension Forces is, a reimagined Version of Sonic Forces, including a whole new team of villains to take on the heroes from our prior stories. I call them: Forever Force. The Main Three Hitters Being the Villains Infinite, Eternity, And Enigma. In this Story we'll get to see Whispers team in action, and also get to see new stories involving Gadget and His Brother Widget, and a host of other rising heroes soldiers and returning cast members.

I also had this Idea that the wisps were able to use their abilities on their own, except in smaller weaker versions then when they had a mobians help.Thus you could call in drill air strikes and other things to help you in battle, and the flew alongside you rather than in containers. I had these idea way long ago, but what do you know Idw beat me to the punch again in rise of the wisps. However I would just like to say before they do it too, that I had the idea of the wisps combining their powers, as if anyone played Sonic simulator, you would know you can actually combine wisp powers. If its the same type, its twice as strong with a bonus effect. If its different, you can combine the strengths of two different powers. Think how eggman used cube with laser in the boss nega wisp armor.

Speaking of Sonic Simulator! Thats another Story I have plans for. Following alongside the events of Sonic colors, Sonic simulator follows the group of hedgehogs abducted from Mobius and sent to eggman's interstellar amusement park as part of an organic experiment to take out sonic. Suggested by The Leader of the Oscillators, These hedgehogs will now have to work together to prove their worth to Eggman and as worthy adversaries of Sonic! But what of their past memories? What will happen if they remember? And if they do, can they escape? Find out! Also its follow up story leads to sonic lost world.

I'd also like to talk about the Idw Verse Mini series I have been working on! Getting Art from the Talented CatRage and getting to voice my Ideas to My Friends as well as My sister, I present my own Miniseries! Mimic's misadventures!

This story takes place between  the events of Idw's Bad guys, and follows mimic's operations and struggles as he tries to complete his missions, and deal with people of similar caliber to himself. Will this mercenary manipulate his way easily out of another situation? Or has the Octopus finally met the one group who will send him back to the ocean? Find out!

Currently, this miniseries has 5 canon issues and one undecided.

1.Ghost Of The North.

2.Into the Spiders Nest

3.Hunt is on

4.Jaws of a Predator

5.Belly of the Beast

undecided: 6.Seaside Escapade.

Currently I am writing the script for Part 1 of Ghost of the North and hope to finish up the Audio drama reading for it soon.

So this is all the stuff I've had in production for the past few years! Along with my co writer Pinky heart.

Please, Please! Reblog or retweet this. It would mean the world to me. Also please! Ask as many questions as you'd like. I'll answer as many as I can, and would love to hear everyone's thoughts and opinions, as well as questions and inquires involving the series.

[night-fallz]

Jason Todd x Avengers Crossover

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

Unexpected (part 2)

Two days have passed since Clint was saved by Jason. And for some reason, he still can't get the vigilante out of his mind.

Natasha teased him about it but he knows that if she sees Jason in action, she would be intrigued as well.

The way he fought was mesmerizing. Every bullet that was shot was so precisely aimed that the wounds weren't deadly.

Sure it knocked them out, but they weren't gonna die.

That form of marksmanship was only earned through years of hard work. And Clint's worked with Bucky enough times to know that Jason somehow predicted the next move of the attackers, aiming at the non-lethal body parts.

He has a feeling that Bucky and Jason would make an incredible duo.

Which is why he needs them to meet.

Clint doesn't usually do this but the more he thought about the bucket-wearing vigilante, the higher his list of questions got.

He took out his phone, leaning against the couch as he searched for the man that saved him.

vigilante wearing red bucket

He scrolled through google trying to find a decent article on the guy.

After thirty whole minutes of barely finding information, Clint wanted to throw his phone across the room. So far, all he's figured out was that Jason's territory was in Gotham and that his vigilante name is 'Red Hood'.

Which was... creative in a way?

At least it wasn't 'Red Bucket' or 'Bucket Head' or anything like that. It was definitely better than 'Green Arrow'.

After another failed search, he decided to finally give up. There was nothing about Red Hood. All the articles were mainly about Batman, Nightwing, a restaurant place, and a Robin!

He groaned and put his face in his hands. He doesn't care about those overrated heroes, he wants to find out more about Red Hood.

The guy was so cool... he wonders why there were barely any pieces written about him. The few sentences that he's read about the vigilante almost always depicted him in a bad light.

Which was honestly unfair.

He stared at his phone, contemplating on whether or not he should ask Natasha.

On the positive side, he knows that the assassin would have information on Red Hood. Natasha has information on everyone.

But...

Clint didn't want Natasha to tease him even more! If she keeps up with the sarcastic comments then the other Avengers would be curious. And curious Avengers meant nosy people.

He felt himself shiver, really nosy people.

He swears that if he had a sister— older or younger, they would act exactly like how Natasha was acting right now.

He could practically imagine the smirk she was wearing on her face when she picked up.

"Hey, Clint." she casually greeted, "How are you?"

He refrained from gritting his teeth, "I'm doing good." he paused, eyes closing as he took a breath in, this hurt to admit. "I need your help."

"I know."

"What do you know about the Red Hood?"

"The Red Hood?" she hummed under her breath, "Let's see."

Clint heard her moving things around, then he could distinctly hear the noise of paper being flipped. "Do you just have documents of random vigilantes lying around your room?" he couldn't help but ask. "Is this an assassin thing?"

Does Bucky do this too?

"I'm getting you the information you need." she reminded, "How I keep track of the data I have is none of your business."

"Okay, okay." he surrendered, a smile making its way onto his face. "But why don't you just keep it on a computer? Wouldn't that make things easier for you?"

She ignored his question, "Red Hood is an excellent marksman," she stated. "He made his debut as a crime lord by showing a bunch of people a duffel bag filled with the heads of notorious criminals."

Clint let out a whistle, "That is an intense introduction. He's even better than I thought he would be."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "He's easily one of the most dangerous and capable vigilantes in Gotham. In a matter of months, he's managed to bring crime down Crime Alley by at least fifty percent. Something that Batman himself, couldn't do. His methods were vicious, but they worked. Extremely well. He's killed a lot of child molesters, human traffickers, and rapists."

Even though Natasha couldn't see him, he tilted his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek. Clint could care less about what methods Jason used. If they worked, they worked. And it's not like those criminals didn't deserve it. It's just-

Killing takes a lot out of you. Especially when you're young. Clint would know.

He had no doubt in his head that Jason was an incredible fighter. Not to mention that he was also huge— in both height and muscle.

He can see why he has a majority of Gotham fooled.

But, for about a minute, after they won against the ninjas, Jason removed his helmet in order to get a breath of fresh air.

A mask might've been covering his eyes, but Clint's been in the vigilante business for years now. He remembers clear as day, just how young the vigilante looked under the sun.

When Clint first started, he was thankful that he had Natasha to talk to whenever things got hard. Whenever he felt guilty for taking someone's life. No matter how much they deserved it.

Hell, he's still thankful for Natasha now. Without her, Clint would probably be dead. His body found bleeding out in an abandoned area, a neat row of scars on his thighs and arms.

He hopes that Jason has a friend like Natasha. Someone who'd be there for him no matter what. Someone who'd remind him that he was worth it. That he was loved.

Cause if not, then there is no way that the kid is okay.

Natasha's sharp voice interrupted his thoughts, "That was a few years ago. As far as I know, he doesn't kill anymore. The farthest that Hood would go now would be to permanently cripple someone. And even then, he would only do that when the person did something unforgivable."

After a few seconds of silence, Clint opened his mouth. "Is that it?" he couldn't help but question.

"Nope," Natasha admitted. "But it's all I'm willing to tell you."

"Fine then," he smirked. "Keep your assassiny secrets. I got more than I expected anyways."

"What did you get yourself into, Clint? Why all the sudden interest in him? Why all the sudden interest in a vigilante in Gotham?"

He knows that Natasha was just looking out for him. She was worried. "Do you remember a few days ago when I was saved by this Jason guy?" he asked.

"Yeah? You've been talking about him nonstop. He saved your ass and you gave him your number." she paused before adding, "Your private one."

He nodded, "Yeah. Well, he's the Red Hood."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I searched him up and he had the same costume and everything."

"And he actually said that his name was Jason?"

"Yep." he tried to casually say, "It's probably cause Jason's a popular name and stuff."

"Maybe." Natasha hesitantly agreed, "But anyway, since you gave him your number, I think you should know that I've always wanted to meet him so if he texts you soon..."

Her voice trailed off and Clint couldn't hold in his sigh, "Yeah, yeah. I'll arrange a meet-up or whatever."

Her voice automatically brightened, "Actually?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, "Sure. But I wanted to introduce him to Bucky first."

Natasha made a shocked sound of betrayal, "Wha- but Clint!" she whined, "I'm the one who's asking. Not him."

"I know."

It took everything in him to stop the laugh from escaping his mouth.

Complaints about how unfair Clint was being made their way onto his ears and he relished each and every one of them. It wasn't often that he had something Natasha wanted.

Revenge was sweet.

After a few minutes, he let out an incredibly fake gasp. "Sorry, Natasha. I gotta go. I have a kitchen emergency."

"What the fuck, Clint." she demanded, "You don't even know how to cook. Remember the omelet incident? What emerg-"

He hung up.

Clint's definitely going to regret ending the call later. He knows it.

But right now, he could care less.

He has something Natasha wants, so she won't murder him.

... hopefully.

He hopes that he runs into the vigilante soon. Jason was cool and pretty fun to talk to. Clint definitely won't mind fighting at Red Hood's side once more.

They worked really well together.

While they were fighting, he knew that Jason was gonna have his back. He knew that Jason wasn't gonna let him get hurt. It was weird, considering that was the first encounter he's ever had with him.

He doesn't know when Jason is gonna decide to use his number, but he hopes that it'll be soon.

He has questions. And whenever Jason was ready, Clint hopes that he can answer.

Starting with the one that's been clouding his head; why did the Red Hood stop killing?

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

notes:

okay, I didn’t expect to write a chapter this soon. but reading all the comments you guys left on the previous chapter motivated me. to be honest, I didn’t expect this fanfic to get as many hits as it did.

I don’t know when I’m planning on posting this chapter but right now, my goal is to write as much as I can.

I also don’t know exactly how busy my sophomore year of high school will be, but I feel like it’s better to be safe than sorry. Especially if I make the school volleyball team.

I finished writing this chapter on August 8th, and I have tryouts on the 9th through the 11th from 4-6 pm. (wish me luck!)

like always, please, please, please, leave a comment. i love reading them and they just motivate me so much! Whenever I get author’s block, I just re-read them and they help so, so much. If you don’t wanna leave a comment, that’s fine. If you liked this fanfic, please hit that kudos button though.

and if you just wanna chat or if you want to request any ideas or prompts, just message me here.

ooh, and if there’s anything specific you want to read in this series, please tell me. It never hurts to have any extra ideas. plus, I really want to make this fic more enjoyable for everyone.

[wallwriterstuff]

S’Language Lessons || Alec Volturi x Reader ||

This is just a fun little thing based off of this post ----> Reckless <---- by the wonderful @cullens-stuff

Words: 1584

Warnings: None! 

Summary: You meet your mate Alec on a dark night where he’s forced to save your life, but the age gap seems to be creating a communication barrier between you. 

You really shouldn’t have been on the street that night.

The reports of mysterious deaths in your neighbourhood had skyrocketed recently and the news was full of grim articles about exsanguinated corpses and bodies with missing limbs. There was no pattern, no connection between the people that had died; in short, everybody was a target, and everyone was a suspect. The people in your apartment block now bowed their heads and hurried on by instead of waving or nodding in greeting. People on the street stared holes in your head if you lingered too long on street corners or outside store fronts. You really shouldn’t have been out that night but you didn’t have a choice, not once your electricity went kerplunk. You were right in the middle of a paper, due tomorrow of course, with your laptop ready to die in the next hour and your meter needing a top up you had no choice but to venture out.

Getting dragged into a dark alley hadn’t been the plan, and you knew you were very fortunate that they’d come along when they had. Whoever had you moved too fast to see, their grip on you harsh and cold. You were covered in bruises and a few scrapes by the time you were flung to the ground, screaming bloody murder and seeing two of everything till your vision cleared. Your attacker had turned out to be a red headed male wearing grungy clothing with vibrant red eyes, but he looked far less threatening writhing on the floor in agony. You’d been absolutely frozen, too afraid to move when you saw the bright, crimson eyes pinning him to the floor, a sadistic smile on the little blonde’s face as she asked someone called Felix to take care of ‘that’. Since you assumed ‘that’ was you, a burst of adrenaline got you running. How he’d gotten around you to hem you back into the alleyway you weren’t sure but Felix’s giant frame was very much blocking your exit.

“You aren’t the BFG, are you?” you’d stammered, brain short circuiting. It had made the big guy tilt his head as he prowled closer, and you’d whined softly in terror. “Come on man, truce?” you pleaded. There was a cold touch on your arm, the tickle of soft hair against your temple and something cool and slender skimming your throat.

“Enough. She’s coming with us.” The voice was almost as cool as the breath that brushed your cheek, and everything had gone black pretty quickly after that. Your paper suddenly seemed very…inconsequential. Who cared about tectonic theory when you had discovered vampires existed? Actually…you did. You wanted to finish your degree, so with a bit of begging on your part and some organisational skill from the secretary, you had special circumstances and your course was to be complete online. Come the spring you’d have your degree in hand and be a college graduate, then you’d have absolutely no unfinished business with your professors and tutors, you could vanish without a trace and start living out eternity in Italy with Alec.

Your current research wasn’t going too well though. What you had thought was good information had turned out to be utterly irrelevant - unless you wanted to rewrite a whole chunk of your paper that was - so you scrunched the paper you’d been scribbling your notes on in one hand and lined up your shot with the wastepaper basket. You never kept it near your desk, it was way more fun to keep it across the room to launch your paper into it like the next big NBA start whenever you got the chance. You reared your arm back, eyes narrowed on your target, and when you were sure your shot lined up, you threw it.

“Yeet!” you crowed, eyes wide as you watched your paper ball sail through the air. Alec knocked and entered at exactly the same time, his eyes tracking the scrunched up ball as it smacked the wall and fell into the basket below. Arms lifting, you grinned and span your chair around with a cheer. “And Y/N sinks it like the mvp I am!” you stopped spinning to face Alec smugly, one ankle crossed over your knee and your hands linking behind your head. “Here for an autograph?” you asked with a wink. Alec’s eyes rolled as he crossed to sit on the edge of your desk.

“I see the studying is going well.” He observed, eyes tracking over your pages of notes and the twenty plus open tabs on your laptop. You heaved a sigh.

“It’s…going.” You answered evasively. Alec didn’t comment, his eyes drifting back towards the wastepaper basket target you’d set up for yourself. He was very quiet, the expression on his face contemplative. Your eyebrows rose a bit and you settled back in your seat to watch him. His side profile was glorious, you had to admit. His jawline was a little rounded, soft with his perpetual youth, but his cheek bones were high and his lashes long and dark around those deep burgundy eyes. The light coming in from your bedroom window was shattering against his skin, refracting off of him like he was a human disco ball. He looked absolutely ethereal like this, an inhuman, impossible being on the edge of your desk that for whatever reason, wanted crazy little you.

“Y/N, you recall we discussed my age once, yes?” he asked finally, turning his eyes back to yours. Your heart skittered since he’d caught you so openly staring at him, and the small twitch of his lips made you certain he’d heard it.

“Yeah, I remember you’re an old fogey.” You teased, trying to play it cool. Alec’s nose wrinkled briefly.

“Perhaps it is my age, but I do not understand your language.” He admitted. You pursed your lips, trying hard to fight the smile threatening to break out. You failed epically, a slight giggle escaping you.

“Sorry, I just…you all speak so formally around here, it’s no surprise you don’t know slang.” You said. Alec sighed.

“Humans have become so lazy with language, even the words they do use correctly are rarely fully enunciated,” He retorted wryly, “Though I suppose it is what happens when time passes. Things evolve. Will you teach me?” You blinked in surprise. Alec wanted to learn slang? Oh…oh. He waited patiently for you to answer him while your mind reeled with all the possibilities, a wicked smile spreading across your face.

“Where do you want to start? Slang or text speak?” you questioned. Alec actually squinted.

“Is there a difference?” he asked, sounding more wary now. You all but cackled in delight and sensing the sudden shift in your mood, he held his hands up to placate you. “Perhaps we can start with the words you used earlier. What is yeet?” You pushed to your feet and shook your head vehemently.

“It’s not yeet, it’s yeet!” you threw an added emphasis on the ye part and pretended to throw another ball into the wastepaper basket. Alec frowned.

“Ye-e-et?” he tried. Your head tilted.

“Okay we’ll work on pronunciation later. Definition of the word…erm, well, it’s just something you yell when you throw something like I did earlier, you know? So, here-“ you scrunched up some more paper from your notebook and handed him the ball, “-you can yeet it into the waste basket.” You demonstrated for added effect, and after taking a moment to scrunch up the paper a little more, he reared his arm back.

“Yeet!” he sounded a little vicious, enough to make you shudder, but his expression was expectant when he turned to look at you, like a puppy wanting praise. You had to introduce him to a high five then, and you had no idea what sort of a monster you’d made until you had settled in the common room a little over a week later, snuggled in a blanket so you could curl up against Alec without fear of catching pneumonia anytime soon.

“It’s a classic Felix! Of course we should watch it.” Demetri sounded exasperated, no doubt bored of the argument the pair had been having since early afternoon about what movie to watch tonight on a rare night off. Jane sat primly in her favourite armchair across from them, looking thoroughly bored with their dramatics. Alec sighed, tightening his grip on you.

“Demetri don’t be such an old fogey.” He chipped in. The room fell utterly silent, your own head swivelling to look up at your mate. You were shocked he’d used it so causally, and given the look on his face it had surprised Alec too.

“I beg your pardon? I am a what now?” Demetri questioned, looking confused as to whether or not he should be offended. Alec opened and closed his mouth slightly, looking to you for help getting out of this one. You bit your lip, hand moving up to smother your smile.

“Chillax D, it’s a compliment.” You grinned. Demetri frowned, eyes searching your face suspiciously for a moment before he sat a little straighter, chest puffing slightly.

“Hear that Felix. I’m a fogey. You should listen to me more often.” He chastised. You barely contained your laughter, Alec’s own frame shaking silently. His lips brushed your ear as he leaned down to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Lol.”

You burst out laughing. Maybe teaching Alec slang hadn’t been such a bad idea after all?

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

Wow. I’m so, so grateful for the lovely response to chapter 1 of this story. I’ve never had so many notes on one of my posts before, so many, many thanks to everyone who took the time to read, like, reblog and comment on it. i do appreciate it

Thanks also to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Previous chapter

AO3

Chapter 2: From Scrubs to Sauvignon

Sunlight streaming through the shutters wakes me before the alarm. After the previous seventy two hours with too much alcohol, not enough sleep and shared hotel rooms, last night’s sleep was a solid nine and a half hours and I feel so much better for it.

Trying, for a moment at least, to ignore both the demands of my bladder and my desperate need for caffeine, I gaze up at the ceiling and contemplate the surgery ahead of me. Whilst it’s a comparatively routine procedure for me, I always think about the families — parents, grandparents, siblings. It’s an anxious time for them, never routine, a step into the unknown and they are putting their trust in me to look after their precious child. Their faith in me is something I take very seriously.

I have a ritual I follow every time before theatre. I take a few minutes to close my eyes and let the procedure play inside my head, my hands echoing the images in my brain. I trace the path my scalpel will take on the skin; I position, in mid air, the locations of the clamps; I work with my imaginary mallet and chisel honing the bone, the X-ray images clear in my head.

By the time I’ve finished closing the incision, the demands of my bladder can no longer be ignored. That’s my cue to get out of bed and start my day.

***********

Before I put my scrubs on, I pay a visit to the side room where Robbie, my seven year old patient has spent the night. His parents have already given consent for the operation, but I like to go and do a final check.

Robbie is sitting up in bed, a bit subdued but in good health. His mother is sitting expectantly, nervously playing with the skin around her nails. The foldaway bed has already been put away, but, judging by her red rimmed eyes, I don’t think it got much use. Robbie’s father follows me into the room, two coffees in his hands.

“Sorry, Doctor Claire,” he nods at the coffee. “I didna get ye one. D’ye want one?”

I let the doctor reference pass. As a surgeon, my title is no longer doctor. Officially, I am Miss Beauchamp, but prefer my juvenile patients to call me Claire. Quite a lot of the parents seem to call me Doctor Claire. I suppose they like the reassurance that I am actually a proper doctor.

“No, thanks.” I smile. “Are we all set then?”

They nod nervously.

“Aye,” Robbie’s father agrees. “We need tae get it done.”

“How long will it take?” Robbie’s mother looks directly at me, wanting a definitive answer.

I hesitate. I don’t like to give precise times. If the surgery goes longer then parents start to fear the worst, and that’s not always the case. So I give a vague answer. “‘Till lunchtime… you could always go and sit outside in the little garden, it’s a lovely day.”

His mother looks down at her hands and shakes her head. “No, I want tae be right here …”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to. I know exactly what she’s thinking.

I turn to Robbie, blissfully unaware of his parents’ thoughts. He beckons me to him.

“When I wakes up,” he begins in a stage whisper. “Can I have a treat?”

“What sort of treat did you have in mind?”

“Can I have a MacDonald’s? But no’ a kid’s meal. I’ve never had a Big Mac.”

I glance at his parents who nod at me before I whisper back, “Of course you can, but don’t let nurse Geillis see, will you? She can be ever so naughty. She’ll be trying to steal your chips away, if you’re not careful.”

And with that, I stroke Robbie’s little cheek before saying my goodbyes and head out to get changed.

**********

Robbie’s surgery went to plan, no nasty surprises or tricky complications. I call in to check on Robbie’s parents before they head to recovery. They look totally different to when I saw them this morning. Still worn out of course, I don’t think they’ll sleep properly until their little lad is home with them, but their faces shine with sheer relief. I have warned them about the long road ahead, with many hours of physiotherapy and exercises, but, for today, I’ll let them have their moment of pure happiness. Reality will hit them again soon enough.

As I leave the waiting room, making my farewells, Robbie’s dad thanks me once more. I can tell he’s unsure whether hugging me is appropriate or not, so he settles for a handshake. His wife has no such qualms, wrapping me tightly in a hug, whispering her thanks until her husband reminds her that they need to be with their son. I point the way and head down to the nurses station.

Geillis is sitting there, looking very busy on the computer. I pull up a chair and sit next to her. The screen is filled with images of our weekend in Barcelona.

“What?” She looks at me as if I’ve accused her of something. “I’m on ma lunch, aren’t I?”

“How was your night then?”

Geillis beams from ear to ear— she’s like the cat who got the cream. “Nay bad, nay bad at all. After two nights away, Dougal realises what he’s got wi’ me, and he dinna hesitate tae show me, if ye ken what I mean?”

She winks at a poor medical student, who blushes and busies himself with a set of medical notes.

“Geillis,” I warn. “Behave yourself.”

“Anyway, pet, how was yer evening? Another tryst wi’ Professor Randall?” Her face says it all. Geillis thinks about as much of Frank as he does of her. Literally the only thing they have in common is me, and it’s getting pretty wearing.

“No, I was worn out and— oh, that reminds me.” I fumble in my pocket for my phone as I carry on talking. “I’ve got someone else’s suitcase. I hope they’ve got mine.”

I glance at the screen. Two missed calls and one message. All from the same number. All from the number I called last night, the James-Fraser-isn’t-here-don’t-call-again-ever number. Looks like this James Fraser has a jealous or suspicious wife-partner-girlfriend-housekeeper.

“Catch up later, Geillis, I need to deal with this.”

I rush back to my office to try and sort the suitcase problem out.

The message is brief and to the point.

Hi, Jamie Fraser here. I think I have your case too. Can we arrange a swap? I live in Glasgow. Hopefully you too. Where and when? I’m free after 5 today.

After five will work for me too, I just need to pop home and pick up his case. Now, based on his wardrobe choices and his one message to me, he doesn’t actually seem like an axe murderer or sex pervert, but you can’t really tell, so I think about a public location.

How about the benches by the cafe at Kelvingrove Park? 5:30? Claire Beauchamp

A couple of minutes later his reply appears on my screen.

Fine. See you then.  I’ll be the one wheeling a black Samsonite. JF

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

It’s another glorious sunny day here in Glasgow. Just ideal for going for a stroll in the park. I do feel a bit conspicuous with a suitcase trailing along behind me — kind of like an upmarket bag lady.

There are no other suitcases around, so I perch on a bench. I fire a quick message to Geillis, just so that she knows where to direct the police if I disappear and then wait. It’s not too bad waiting. The sun is still warm, so I stretch my legs out trying for a tan. With my eyes closed, I lift my face up to soak up the rays. I may get panda eyes with my sunglasses on, but I don’t really care. The warmth is so good and I can feel myself relaxing totally —

“Ahem.”

I am conscious of a shadow across my face. I open my eyes and quickly stand up.

He’s tall. That’s the first thing I notice. A good few inches taller than me, and I’m 5 feet 9. And broad. Broad enough to block my sun. His hair is red, very red and the sun behind him creates a fiery corona around his head.

He’s a Viking. A Viking in a navy blue suit and a crisp white shirt. How many of those white shirts does he own, I wonder?

“Claire Beauchamp, I presume. I recognise the case. That red ribbon on the handle, such a unique idea.”

He smiles, a lopsided half grin and holds out his hand for me to shake. “Jamie Fraser.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” I say somewhat unnecessarily as we shake hands.

He sits down. “So,” he begins politely. “I hope ye havena come far out of yer way.”

I join him on the bench.

“No,” I gesture vaguely to my right. “I live not too far from here. How about you?”

That lopsided grin appears again. “Nah,” he gestures to his left. “No’ too far at all.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence. We are not really here for small talk, but is it too rude to just dive in and do the swap?

“So,” Jamie breaks the silence. “About the cases…”

Apparently it’s not too rude.

“I ken ye have ma case there, on account of ma contact details being in it, but what about this one? How do I ken this is yers? Black Samsonites with wee red ribbons seem to be awfa common ‘round here. As proof, can ye mebbe tell me something that’s in it? Something identifiable?”

And at this, my mind goes blank, what did I pack?

“Er, denim shorts… black flip flops… white vest—”

“Weel, they’re all verra common. Is there anything a wee bit more… unique?”

Is it my imagination or is there a twinkle in his clear blue eyes as he says this? And then I remember exactly what’s in my case and start to blush.

“There may be some hen party bits and pieces in there too. It was my friend’s hen weekend, so I think there may be some, er, stuff from that, you know, er, handcuffs… shot glasses…”

He puts me out of my misery. “Och, that’s fine. It’s yers, right enough. Here ye go.”

And we do the exchange, just like in the spy movies. Except in those, the cases are filled with bank notes and the top secret blueprints for a submarine base, and not white dress shirts and an assortment of shot glasses shaped like penises.

Our phones beep practically simultaneously. I pull mine out of my pocket. Jamie does the same and glances at his phone.

Mine is a text from Frank confirming tonight’s arrangements “I’d better go. Plans for tonight, you know.”

“Snap. Plans here as well.”

“Goodbye then. I’m not sure whose fault it was, the mixup at the airport. So why don’t we both say sorry, or neither of us?” I suggest as I stand up and smooth the creases from my skirt.

“Sounds good tae me. How about neither?” He smiles again. “Ms Claire Beauchamp, nice to meet you.”

“Mr Jamie Fraser, likewise I’m sure.”

And with that we head off, me to the right and Jamie Fraser to the left.

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

Frank had said 7:30, and, sure enough, at 7:28 my intercom buzzes and I let Frank in. He arrives at my door carrying a large bunch of lilies and roses. No, not a bunch, I can’t describe it as a bunch… carrying a large bouquet of lilies and roses, beautifully arranged and hand-tied. Clearly not a supermarket purchase. Nor is the wine he also hands to me. A chilled bottle of my favourite Sauvignon Blanc, only available from quality wine merchants in the city.

Frank can be incredibly thoughtful and generous, and I am suitably grateful. I pop the flowers into the kitchen sink while I try to locate a vase big enough to hold them.  He walks in as I’m scrabbling around on my hands and knees, bum in the air, head buried in the cupboard under the sink.

“So what are we having for dinner?” He asks as he pours the wine. “Are you cooking?”

I emerge victorious, having found the vase wedged between a bottle of sink unblocker and an unused can of spray starch.

“Sorry?”

“Dinner?” He repeats, helping me to my feet.

“I’ve not had a chance to cook. I told you about the suitcase confusion, didn’t I?  Well, I had to get that sorted. I thought we could have something delivered. That’s ok, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure that will be fine, darling. What would you like?”

What would I like? What I would really like would be a huge, great pizza full of carbs and grease and pepperoni and cheese that pulls into strands when you try to take a slice. And to sit on the floor with the pizza box between us watching Netflix and drinking beer.

But, that is clearly a rhetorical question.

“Thai?” Frank doesn’t wait for my answer.

Thai is the only acceptable takeaway in Frank’s eyes, eaten at a table, on proper plates. I nod my agreement. After all, he’s brought me wonderful flowers, and a gorgeous bottle of wine. He deserves to have the choice. And I can have pizza with my friends any time.

“You ring the order through then, while I arrange these beautiful flowers.” I say and kiss his cheek.

And that is our evening sorted - takeaway, a couple of glasses of wine, Newsnight on the television and then to bed for a bit of sex.

So, that’s food, drink, mind and body all sorted. I should go to sleep feeling satisfied with everything. I should… shouldn’t I?

[todokanai-suishou]

April 7th

Pairing Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Fluff

WC: 2,5k

Quality: Not yet golden Raspberry, but definitely rotten Tomato worthy

A/N: "April 7th, but it's longer now" finally managed to post the full thing TT_TT. It's still my first ff and I still apologize for the outcome of this, since I usually do music reviews and (bad) poetry:

Inspiration for it & pt2 were Sticky & April 7th by a Band called The Maine

__________________________________________________________

When you first saw him, he was dancing like nobody was watching

when in fact, everybody was.

You were no exception to the other people staring at him while they were shouting names, singing along to the lyrics sung by the 7 people dancing on stage, so stable and well.

And this man? This man didn’t seem to miss a beat. He moved so effortlessly through every song, having the time of his life, dancing and singing and rapping his heart out

- until he first spotted you in the crowd, watched in awe as you got lost in stereo, eyes shut to enjoy the music

- until you opened your eyes to look back at him.

And suddenly the man who was just dancing along to a fun song that luckily had no choreography, froze just like someone who’d be busted dancing with a mob.

He didn’t know what had hit him when your eyes made contact with his, but he just stood there, unable to move until the eldest came and hit him on the head jokingly, followed by the youngest jumping on both of them.

The Dancer snapped out of it at this point and you didn’t have a single ounce of understanding for what just happened. Usually it was Jungkook lagging, but not during performances and out of all the people you’d suspect to stop moving, Hobi would be the last one to.

Until he was. And he looked baffled when he came back down to earth, whispering to both of his friends as they were finishing the song before leaving to change clothes. He couldn’t help from looking back and subtly pointing at your part of the crowd a few times though

and as he kept on, you started to sense something. From the way he looked back. From the way he pointed in this direction..your brain meanwhile got the bizarre idea that it was you who got him that stunned. Maybe he saw someone else in you? Maybe a fansite? “Oh god please not a fansite.” you whispered, barely audible but turning the heads of the girls in front of you as you started shaking...or maybe an ex? You couldn’t pinpoint it but you also couldn’t stop thinking of the possibility that it was indeed you he reacted this way to.

and you were right about him freezing because of you, but dead wrong about him recognizing his ex, or a fansite, or anyone for that reason.

It was cliché but all the thought at that moment was that, even in this dimly lit room - you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever come across.

The way you danced like nobody was watching, because there probably really was no one watching you, all the while lip-syncing to boyz with fun, you were glowing and the way you suddenly stared at him, with adoration in your eyes, that had him overwhelmed.

“You really fell in love at first sight, huh?” Jin laughed in between changes as the younger one told him about what just happened. “I might” Hoseok fell into a stare at the realisation,. “This is crazy,” he whispered to himself. “You might never see them again though.” Namjoon exclaimed drily from across the room. “I’ll try...I guess?” - “What are you going to do, hunt that person down?” The leader raised an eyebrow and Hoseok sighed. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t until Yoongi - who currently fought with his leather pants - spoke up from the corner “just tell the staff to keep them here. Say Hi, see where it goes afterwards.” and while the leader and Hoseok agreed that this could come across as kind of creepy - the dancer gave it a try. He pointed to you, with the glowing green bracelet on your arm, gave them info of where you approximately were or could possibly come out. He did all he could do for them to keep you there and although you were confused, and quite frankly a little scared of what was happening, you stayed.

And god were you ready to fall on your knees and beg not to be sued with every second that passed, making up critical scenarios and what ifs in your head.

All of them were dead wrong.. You didn’t know how exactly he came to be there, but you remember him coming out in baggy pants, a loose shirt, hair that was still somewhat sweaty but at least brushed properly and he had the biggest smile as he came closer while you and a staff member were still jokingly debating whether ketchup was a smoothie or not. With a breathless “Hi.” he almost scared the living shit out of you.

“Hi” you replied, just as breathless and quite frankly confused. Both your Anxiety levels flew through the roof with each awkward second the two of you didn’t speak. It’s ironic how he wanted to tell you so much, but eventually when you were in front of him, sweat still somewhat glistening on your face and exhaustion written on it in tiny letters, he lost all his words.

It was you who, while still holding eye contact, spoke up. “So...you froze before...are you okay?” You nervously rubbed your arm, but he saw his chance. “Yeah, I’m sorry, it was kind of your fault” an awkward laugh followed from his side, making you nervously rub your arm and look down before he followed up “I got mesmerized by looking at you.” and boom, he had all your attention again. Eyes growing big at his comment. “Wait what?” - “I saw you vibe along and somehow, I don’t know. You just amazed me.” Everything after that was rambling as he tried to explain in a way that didn’t seem too forward or make you uncomfortable and apparently it worked when you let out a chuckle “You’re cute, you know that?” - “Cute enough to go on a date with me?” His sudden question left you as surprised as it did him. He didn’t think he’d do it like that, but judging from you freezing like a deer in the headlights, it was too straight forward and pointless. “Ah you kn-” - “Okay.” This time around he was the deer. And your answer? Just hit him like a car. “okay?” he replied in disbelief. “Yes, unless you don’t want to anymore?” you raised an eyebrow and he shook his head. “no, I’d still love to! How does tomorrow sound?” he asked so cheerfully the change of Aura almost threw you off. “Tomorrow sounds great, I think. Afternoon or evening?” - “Brunch?” - “Could work, might not. I usually sleep in on weekends. My body just naturally ignores every alarm clock I have until 13:00…but... I could get my roommate to wake me up with water I guess.” You said sheepishly.

“So...in case your roommate DOES wake you, how does 11:30 sound?” he smiled, screaming on the inside, hoping, praying, putting all of his trust in your roommate. “Sounds great.” You smiled back and at this moment he was a goner. Almost literally, since Jungkook called for the living, breathing sun to come back, because he wanted to go already. “Wait, give me your number so we can figure more details out.” a phone was pressed into your hands. You didn’t take long to type in your number and call yourself, his smile only growing as you handed it back to him. He had your number. He did it. You gave him his number and if tomorrow was going well, he was convinced that he could die happily.

When JK called for a second time he went away though “Well, I guess I really gotta go. I’ll see ya.” he waved at you and you just copied the action, smiling widely at him. “BY THE WAY” he called out after you “YES?”- “Y/N.... The Name fits you.” - “How?” - “A BEAUTIFUL NAME FOR A BEAUTIFUL HUMAN” and with that he was out of the room, and you and the staff member went out in the other direction, with her clearly laughing as you turned as red as a tomato. A warm feeling spread all throughout you, as you walked into the cold air, excited for what was to come, while the man who just asked a total stranger out just ended up happy dancing the entire night, leaving Jimin internally screaming for deciding to room with the manic squirrel and in serious conflict of whether he was just gonna head into Taehyung's room instead. In Hindsight, he probably should have.

Back then, on that first April 7 in the Arena, you met the man who lights up even the darkest days of your life. You learnt pretty fast that it wasn’t all fun and games, and relationships with Idols are hard. Big Hit bought out dispatch when it came to you, but still, not being able to see each other properly..sometimes was difficult, when all you wanted was to cuddle.

So he left sweaters at your place, and you saw each other whenever the other was near, you two made the, partially rough, two years worth the wait and god does he love you for holding on like that.

But exactly you, or the lack of your presence, made it hard for him to concentrate on rehearsal today. Knowing it’s the same day, the same arena, but someone else in your place. You usually took the time for important dates, 100 day anniversaries and birthdays were shared. Hell, the first anniversary you took leave to visit him on tour, but the second one, you informed him you couldn’t watch from the stage like you did so many times before. “Important family stuff.” you told him and the boys knew he wasn’t his usual self. Still whooped the professional part - except for the facial expressions and while the younger ones tried to coax the sun into shining again after the first Rehearsal, it wasn’t until Yoongi snuck up behind Hoseok with a phone in hand.

While the younger ones were still occupying Hoseok, Yoongi facetimed you and held the phone close to Hobis ear and before he could register anything, he heard “HOBI!” from the other line. Resulting in the dancer getting half a heart attack before turning around, resulting in Yoongi just handing him his phone and leaving. “Baby..” you pouted as you looked at his face. “Jagi, I miss you” a pout leaving him too. “You’ll see me soon, baby. I’m sorry I can’t watch like we planned.” - “ I know, I know” he sighed on the other line and you could feel your heart break. Dying to see your man already.

“I’ll see you soon, baby, don’t worry. We can celebrate after the concert tonight. Just give your best today, and if you won’t, you know I’m gonna find out from Jimin, right?” he chuckled at that comment, giving you a bright smile afterwards. “I know, I know. I’ll try.” - “You don’t need to, you were born to do what you’re doing baby. You’ll do great as always. Just picture me in the crowd, I’m always with you in spirit when I can’t be there - and you’ll get endless cuddles and everything else in the world when we’re home so cheer up.” Needless to say, you weren’t the best in cheering people up but weirdly enough it worked as he sighed out “will do.” giving you a smile afterwards. “Good, now go practice and then - go get 'em. I’ll be off too.” - Wait. Jagi?” You raised an eyebrow. “I love you.” He grinned and you could barely get out “I love you too” before he hung up and brought Yoongi back the phone. Somehow falling into a happy dance again.

“What’s with him?” Namjoon cut in, seeing Hoseok dance between doors “Talked to Y/N” Yoongi just replied and the Leader just nodded. This was normal by now. If he wasn’t everyone else's vitamin e - on days like these you were his and while he was still bummed, the sadness was pushed back by him deciding to just do as you told and picture you there. You’d be off work or family duties or whatever emergency came in between by the time he was done. You’d still see each other. It wasn’t what he had planned and you knew it wouldn’t be, but he’d be happy either way. He was happy with everything as long as the end result was you.

So the rehearsals continued. You headed out the house shortly after facetiming him and he put on clothes, got makeup done and set on a smile, all the while still texting you “I love you” being reciprocated with “I love you too, have fun out there.” It was the last text you sent him before you shut your phone off for now. It was also the last thing he read before he got onto that stage.

And while he loved the crowd, he thought the only thing he wanted to happen tonight was for the concert to end. For now.

Until, suddenly, two years after that last April 7th, he froze up during the choreography when he saw a big green heart during Boys With Fun. He couldn’t help but giggle as he read “Hey, sorry I just got kind of mesmerized by you.”

You, ass, stood there, waving that big heart, with that same green bracelet from years ago. Leaving him as amazed and defenseless as you did exactly two years ago and the grin he had on his face as he came to his senses again was second to none. Neither was your surprised reaction as he suddenly came close to your end, jumping over the barricade and pulling you, who stood just close enough to touch, in his direction. Placing his hands on your cheeks, greeting you with a kiss as the people beside you gasped, awed and the Maknae who saw the whole thing just wiped away a fake tear whispering “they grow up so fast.”

That was definitely not how you planned on your relationship being outed, but then again, he didn’t plan to see you here tonight and you, you had a way of melting his brain and making him do things. “Hey” he then said, almost breathless, still entranced and only looking at you. “Hey” you replied smiling. “So, you kinda mesmerized me and..would you wanna..you know, date?” he whispered in your ear, ignoring the music.. “I’m sorry, I kind of have a boyfriend.” you whispered back, laughing afterwards. It was only seconds until your face was in his hands again. “Then what do you say about moving in with him?” Deer in the headlights hobi? More like deer in the headlights Y/N - and this time the truck hit you. You didn’t know much to say, just frantically nodded and he took the time to kiss you again, softly, with all these people still around, and yet, for him you were the only one.

You’ve been the only one for the last two years. You’ll stay the only one for this little eternity he gets to stay with you..

[tloujm]

Part XI: Are We OK?

Author’s Notes: As mentioned in the first paragraph, this takes place a month after the last chapter. Speaking of the last chapter, this one was kind of difficult for me to write as well. Trying to tap into that vulnerable, emotional Joel, when we really didn’t see that until TLOU 2, wasn’t as easy as I thought. And Naughty Dog barely gave us that side of him before they killed him off so...I’m down for straying away from canon, but I wish there was more Joel material to go off of. Maybe if we cry loud enough, Naughty Dog will hear us and we’ll get a DLC with more flashbacks in like 7 years. I already got it planned out, the next chapter will have a new genre, HORROR, just in time for Halloween, then I’ll get back to the smoother-you-with-romance Joel x Reader. 

Genre: An order of Joel Miller, heavy on the angst, with a side of fluff, hold the smut.

Summary: You and Joel find out if the two of you are expecting. Jackson is introduced to a strange newcomer

Ship: Joel x Reader

A month and some change had gone by which meant that you were late. Life had gotten particularly busy, so you didn’t notice how fast time was flying, but Joel did. He knew you were late, but he wanted to see if you would bring it up first. 

“How you feelin’?” Joel asked, gently nudging your shoulder as the two of you walked together.

“I’m fine.” You answered. It was your default answer, but after realizing that he was still looking at you, reading your face, you understood what he meant. Throughout the month he would dote on you a little extra to make sure you weren’t feeling faint or nauseous. “I really am fine, Joel. I haven’t gotten my period yet, though.”

“Ok.” He said as he breathed out. He looked forward with those doe eyes.

“That doesn’t mean anything yet. My periods were never really consistent in the first place. Let’s just wait a little longer and see.” What you said was true, but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to admit to yourself the possibility of having a life inside you. 

Joel took your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Ok.”

One day while out on patrol, Joel convinced his group to make a detour and check out a small plaza. It had a boutique, veterinary office, post office and, most importantly, a pharmacy. While the others started at the boutique to find new clothes, Joel snuck off to get a head start at the pharmacy. He secured the location before pacing up and down the aisles. His eyes bounced around the shelves as his hands randomly skimmed the items on them. They have to be here, he thought. It's not like they were in high demand during a pandemic. Soon enough, he’d found what he was looking for and stuffed his bag with a few boxes just as the group was catching up with him. Joel explained away his departure with ease and joined in scavenging for medical goods. 

As soon as they’d passed through Jackson’s gates, Joel bee lined it to your house. He let himself in as he usually did and called out your name. He wasn’t sure if you were home but he was too anxious to try and track you down. Luckily, your footsteps were heard from the other room. He waited as patiently as he could for you to meet him in the living room. 

“You’re back!” You exclaimed. “What happened out there? I thought you were going to be back in time for lunch.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. We stopped at some small plaza. It was off-map.”

“I hope you guys found some good stuff.” You commented while throwing on your jacket.

“Yeah, we did.” He quickly replied before furrowing his brows. “You going somewhere?”

You nodded. “I was gonna go help Wendy out again today. You can come too, but It’s ok if you’re too tired. I know you just got back.”

“(Y/N),” He began, leaving your name to hang in the air with suspense. He slid his backpack off of his shoulders and dug around for the contents that he found at the pharmacy. 

“What’s wrong?” You noticed the strange look on Joel’s face. Mind racing, you grew afraid of what he was going to pull out. You watched as he placed three narrow boxes on your coffee table. You took a step closer to inspect them.

“There was a pharmacy there, so I figured why wait and see when we can know now.” His voice was as casual as ever, but he gazed at you with those pleading, doe eyes that you were still growing used to. Your own eyes bounced between him and the items on the table. You read the single word on the face of the boxes with its pretty, pink font, “Pregnancy”. By the picture of the stick, you already knew what it was, but the “P” word was unavoidable. 

“Joel,” You started softly. “I started my period. I didn’t notice until after you left this morning for patrol.”

“Oh.” He looked between the tests and your shoes, avoiding eye contact.

“It probably just came late because of stress; you know living in this world ain’t a piece of cake.” You awkwardly chuckled to lighten the mood. “A cycle could be thrown off because of a change in diet. Different foods affect hormone balances. Or...or...um...when women spend time around each other, their cycles link up. I know it sounds weird, but it’s true because...um science.” You ramble on, trying to fill the silence.

He stopped you before you could speak again. “It’s ok, (Y/N). Guess we don’t need these.” He picked one of the tests up and inspected it before throwing it back in his bag. 

Joel focused on his actions after you told him the news. He didn’t want to seem disappointed. He’d be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t, though. It was probably for the best, he thought to himself. He couldn’t imagine outliving another child or losing his love during childbirth. He scoffed at his own thoughts as he wished that storks delivering babies on doorsteps were a real thing. Maybe the two of you could share a pet. Joel made a note to put effort in befriending a stray cat or dog the next time he came across one.

You were more worried about Joel’s feelings than your own when you saw the dark red stains on your panties that morning. Neither one of you were explicitly against having a baby together, but you were afraid that he would get too comfortable with the idea of you actually being pregnant. You offered to stay in with him, but he declined and insisted that you go. He left out the door behind you and walked silently by your side until it was time for him to turn down his street. His eyes were focused on his front door, wanting nothing more than to walk through it and sink into the couch. Suddenly, he heard a voice speak up on the walkie-talkie. He had forgotten to put it back after patrol because he was so anxious to see you. The voice belonged to Dean, a watchtower guard and he sounded frantic as he called for help at the gate. Always having a radio on him, Joel knew that Tommy would have heard the message as well. Joel quickly turned on his heels and jogged up to the main gate of Jackson just in time to meet the other people who heard. Dean explained from the tower that there was a little girl on the other side of the gate covered in blood. She was unresponsive when he questioned her. Dean didn’t know whether she was the bait in an ambush or just a lost little girl who needed help. Maria made the decision to open the gates. She stepped through first, followed by an armed Tommy and Joel. The two brothers kept their eyes peeled for signs of anything suspicious in the distance. Maria approached the child and tried to talk to her herself. She appeared to be in a catatonic state. Maria deduced that she had just experienced something extremely traumatic. Joel watched as Jackson’s leader gently reached out to check her body for any wounds, having been unsure if the blood was hers or not. The girl only looked past her, but didn’t flinch when touched. Joel holstered his gun before taking off his jacket to wrap it around her. Maria mouthed a thank you in his direction before ushering her into the settlement. 

Joel and Tommy decided to stay with Dean at the watchtower as a precaution just in case anyone was following her. Maria immediately walked the girl to the daycare center. She wanted to try again, but if there was anyone who could connect with a child, it was Wendy. 

You were bringing snacks into the play room for the kids when you heard faint voices coming from Wendy’s office. You slowed down as you passed in front of the cracked door. You recognized Maria’s voice. Wendy’s tone was soft and gentle which made you assume that a child was in there as well. What would Maria want with one of the kids? Did one of them get in trouble? You finished handing out the snacks when Maria entered the playroom.

“(Y/N).” Maria called out from the corner of the room. She gestured with her head for you to meet her. “We got a newcomer in today.” She began to slowly shake her head. “I don’t know what to make of her. She won’t talk to anybody. Wendy is in there currently trying. You’re trained in first aid right?” She asked.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m a nurse or anything.”

“Our only doctors are operating right now. You’re all we got.” She looked at you with pleading eyes. “I did a once over on her before bringing her in, but I’d appreciate it if you could look her over and make sure she’s alright.”

You looked back at the kids peacefully eating. “Let me get one of the older kids to look after them and I’ll go back there with you.” Maria nodded before watching you go outside to pull one of the big kids off the playground. 

“This way.” Maria guided you back towards Wendy’s office. You grabbed the basket full of uneaten snacks since the office was on its way to the kitchen.

“I’m assuming she’s a child.” You stated to which Maria nodded. “She showed up by herself?”

“As far as we can tell. Joel and Tommy are currently on lookout to see if she was followed. Dean said he found her approaching the gate covered in blood.”

“Jesus.” You exclaimed in a whisper. “When was this?”

“I just brought her over here from the gate.” Maria said before opening the office door for you.

Wendy was crouched down in front of the little girl, speaking to her in her softest tone. She remained standing after ignoring the older woman’s offer of a chair. Wendy turned to the two of you when she heard the door open. She seemed at a loss after making no more progress than she did when Maria left. You recognized the jacket wrapped around the child’s small frame and you expressed a tiny smile at the thought of Joel’s generosity. His clean, warm jacket was a stark contrast to the blood and grime covering her body. You walked up to her and sat the basket of food down at her feet. Silently, you picked up half of a grilled cheese and held it out for her to take. For a few moments, she did nothing but stand there. Her eyes were glued to some object past your head. Finally, she glanced down at the still warm sandwich in your hand and weakly reached out for it. She brought it up to her mouth and took a little, mousy bite. To help support the sandwich, she brought up her other hand to hold it, revealing that she was missing the last two fingers on that hand. You could tell by the redness that they were severed fairly recently. You would need to take a closer look, but it didn’t seem infected so far. You watched her for a moment before stepping back, giving her space to eat in peace. When she finished, she wiped the crumbs with the back of her hand and reverted back to her prior stance. Tenderly, you removed the jacket and circled around her to get a better look at her body. She was really skinny; probably nearing malnutrition. It made it difficult for you to estimate an age. Especially during developmental years, the lack of proper nutrients could stunt the growth of a child. Seeing how docile she was with the others, you confidently picked her up and sat her on a table that brought her to your height. There you took off her exterior layers to get a better look at her skin for wounds. Like Maria, you guessed that she had been traumatized. Seeing a child that you could only assume was born after the outbreak be put through so much was heartbreaking. After a more thorough check, you determined that none of the blood was hers. You were relieved to see that, but at the same time wondered what situation she had to have been in to get all of that on her. 

“You’re ok. You’re in a safe place, now.” You finally spoke to the girl. She made eye contact, but did not verbally acknowledge your words. “How would you like to get in a nice, warm bath and relax? I’m sure you came a long way to find yourself here. We can make you more grilled cheeses to eat when you get out.” You pleaded. Again, she was silent, but as if on cue, her stomach growled loud enough for everyone to hear. As if embarrassed, she looked down at her feet.

“I’ll get right on those grilled cheeses.” Wendy said, leaving her office. You took the girl’s hand and led her out as well. Maria followed you two to one of the bathrooms. You sat the girl on the toilet seat before Maria beckoned you to meet her at the doorway.

“I’m going to go check on the boys at the gate if you’re ok here.”

“Yeah, me and Wendy will be fine.” You glanced back at the little girl. To your surprise, she was watching you.

“Okay, good. Let me know if you need anything.” Maria said before stepping out.

The girl watched as you ran the water into the tub. Bubbles formed and steam floated off the surface of the water. It was enticing, even for you, especially since it was still winter. You helped her out of the rest of her clothes and walked her into the tub. You watched her face flinch as she adjusted to the temperature. 

For the next half an hour, you gave her a sponge bath and washed her hair. She was good as new by the time you were done with her. Before you brought her back into the office, you cleaned and bandaged the stubs on her left hand. Wendy brought the grilled cheese and tomato soup in so the girl could eat in peace. 

“It would be so much easier if we just knew what to call her.” Wendy spoke in an almost whisper as the two of you sat in the office with her. 

“Yeah.” You sighed. “It’s getting late and she’s probably tired.”

“Oh, I bet she is. She probably walked very far to get here. I’ll take her home with me tonight. We have that extra bedroom now and I think she’ll get along nicely with Kevin and Marnie. They’re about her age.” Wendy spoke about her adopted children. “Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable with someone her own age and open up with them.”

“Yeah?” You genuinely questioned.

“Worth a try.” Wendy shrugged, not knowing what else to do. “She just needs some time is all. She’ll see we’re good people soon enough and she’ll be playin’ with the rest of ‘em.”

You took her plate when she was done and checked on the rest of the kids before calling it a night. Your feet were accustomed to the path that took you to your house, but you really wanted to see Joel. Walking up the driveway, you noticed that all of the lights in the house were off. Still, you entered the house and called his name. You followed his voice and orange glow to the living room where he was sitting by the fire. You sat next to him on the floor and leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a cozy feeling. 

“I heard you were in the watchtower today.” You began.

He exhaled. “Yeah, me and Tommy and Dean. So you know about the girl?”

“I fed and bathed her. Maria brought her over to the daycare so I could take a look at her.”

“How was she, nurse (Y/L/N)?” He playfully asked.

“None of the blood was hers. No cuts. There were some bruises though. I hope she feels better now that she’s all cleaned up.” He grunted in approval before falling silent. “Are we okay?” You spoke up.

“’Course we are. Where is this coming from?” Joel asked.

“Well, when I told you I wasn’t pregnant---”

“It’s ok, (Y/N). I meant it when I said it wouldn’t change anything. I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too and listen, I would be honored to have you as my baby daddy,” He chuckled. “But I don’t think I’m ready now. Are you?”

He gently nodded for a moment. “I think so, yeah.”

“You think you could wait for me? ‘Til I’m ready?”

“This is something I want only with you, so I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh is that so?” You teased. “I’ll be sure to remember that.

“Bet you will.”

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 8

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff/multi-chapter.

Lucy felt nauseous. She'd spent the better part of the morning worrying over whether Haru was okay and it was making her giddy. Gray and Juvia knew how to look after him, they'd been the one's to offer, yet she couldn't shake the worry that something might happen. What if he cried? Or became sick? Had she packed everything he needed? What if he got hurt? It was exhausting! She put her head into her hands to stop herself from hyperventilating. At this rate her head was going to explode.

The train was way too stuffy for her liking and it was making her feel faint. She'd opened the window as wide as it would go and greedily inhaled the cool air that filtered through. Hopefully, this journey would end soon, she wanted Natsu. He always calmed her down but he was currently out of commission, asleep on her lap after puking everywhere.

For once, he'd actually offered to get the train which had surprised Lucy at first, but she understood his reasons, and that's what made it all the more endearing. Natsu seemed to be maturing before her very eyes, choosing to get on the train, just to get this job done quicker, was only the start of it. Becoming a parent made you grow up, whether you wanted to or not, and Natsu was no exception.

It wasn't just with Haru he'd shown his maturity, it was with her as well. He'd kept to his word, every day since they'd shared their first kiss he'd showered her with affection, something she'd never expected from him. He didn't seem to be able to keep his hands to himself, which Lucy was totally fine with. But everything was still very safe and she had to wonder if he had any intention of taking it further, because she definitely did.

When the train finally came to a stop, Natsu was out of the door like a shot, hugging the grass beneath him, and he had the audacity to call her weird. "Are you done being an idiot?" She asked, looking down amused, with her hand on her hip.

"You don't understand how great this feels after being on that death trap!" He groaned, not taking any notice of the insult.

"Well, when you're finished we need to go check in somewhere and then we'll see this person about the job." Lucy said, holding out her hand to help him to his feet.

"Check in somewhere? Luce, I hate to tell ya but we don't have the money for that, it's why I brought an extra sleeping mat." He said, looking at her like she was the idiot now.

"What?! But I don't wanna sleep outside!" She cried out like a spoilt child.

"You're the one that wanted to stay at home for an extra two weeks, we had just enough money for the train tickets." He said, like it was obvious. It was true, Lucy had said it was because she wanted to wait for the right job, when in reality she just didn't want to leave Haru. "Don't worry though, I'll keep ya warm!" He smirked.

She blushed a little, "I guess that's a good enough compromise. I guess it'll be worth it because it pays so well!" The blonde exclaimed. Just before Natsu turned around, she pulled him to her, sporting a sly smile and yanked him down to her level. "Natsu, if you so much as look where you're not supposed to, I will do very bad things to you. Are we clear?" She said in her most sickly sweet voice. She brought her mouth to his for a soft, lingering kiss, as if to seal the deal. They needed every single Jewel that was being offered and Natsu had a habit of, well, destroying things.

"Yes, ma'am." He murmured, pulling away from her and grinning. Was it weird that he found Lucy threatening him kinda hot? He could get use to threats like that. The one's often made towards him, aka Erza's, weren't so alluring, more absolutely terrifying!

"Good! Now, let's see where we need to go." She let go of Natsu and reached into her bag, fishing out the request paper.

The job they had chosen seemed simple enough, it'd been the easiest request for the most amount of money on the board, meaning it shouldn't take too long. Mages were needed to rid a garden of pests that kept trying to steal some magical plants. It was safe, easy and good pay for not a lot of work. Lucy had been so pleased when she saw it, that she hadn't even run it by Natsu before presenting it to Mira.

"Apparently there's a mansion somewhere around here, it shouldn't be too hard to find." She said, taking Natsu's hand. Neither really knew where they were going but a mansion should be easy to spot, the area looked pretty small.

When they'd finally reached it, their mouths flew open at the sheer size of the estate, it looked like it went on for miles. Lucy felt a little nostalgic, it looked very similar to her childhood home, only much more grand. They walked up to the enormous doors and rang the bell, wondering what sort of person would live in such a huge place.

When the door finally opened, a young man had answered, probably in his late twenties, not much older than they were, he was suited and booted and looked quite important. Lucy assumed he must be some sort of business man, similar to her late father, they all looked the same. The man stepped out without saying a word and peered at the two, catching sight of their guild marks and smiled.

"You must be the Fairy Tail wizards I requested? Please do come in, my housekeeper will show you to the dining room where we can discuss everything. I'll be there in a minute." He gestured to an older woman, who they were meant to follow.

"Please follow me, Mr. Felix will be along shortly. He's a very busy man you see and has lots of clients to attend to." She said, smiling to Natsu and Lucy as they made their way down the huge corridors.

"Clients? What exactly does he do?" Lucy asked. Maybe he was famous for something?

"That'll all be discussed at dinner. Here's the dining room." The woman opened the door to reveal the biggest table either mage had ever seen, with a massive spread of food on top of it, making Natsu's mouth water. "We've laid out food for you, I imagine you must be famished after your long journey. Please help yourselves to as much as you'd like while you wait." The Housekeeper said before stepping back out of the door.

Just as Lucy was about to thank her, Natsu grabbed the blonde's hand and flew over to the table and started to dig in. "You're such an animal sometimes, Natsu." Lucy said as she watched him pour a whole plate of meat into his face. She never understood how he could eat so much, and where did he put all of it? The man was entirely muscle!

"We're broke so I'm stuffing myself silly!" He said as he chewed on god knows what. "Isn't that the white stuff you like, Luce?" He pointed to a pot filled with this thick, creamy substance.

Lucy chuckled at what he was pointing to and grabbed some 'white stuff' for herself, spooning it into her mouth. Yogurt, as it was more commonly known, was her absolute favourite. She plopped some fruit into it and dived right in until the entire pot was empty. Once they'd finished, the woman came in and tidied their plates away and in followed 'Mr. Felix' or whatever she said his name was.

"I do apologise, I had a client to see to, but I'm done now." He said as he sat down and poured himself a drink. "What do you call yourselves?"

"My name is Lucy and this is my partner, Natsu." She smiled. "Thank you for the food, it's very much appreciated!"

"You're welcome! My name is Felix and I'm a doctor. My husband and I specialise in medicinal magic and we grow specific plants that help in the healing of mages, like yourselves." He paused to take a sip of his drink.

"Awesome! We could use some of that with the amount Fairy tail gets into fights." Natsu joked, earning a deathly glare from Lucy, but the man chuckled at them.

"Yes, I've heard about Fairy Tail's reputation, but don't worry, you don't need to put on any airs and graces in front of me. I wouldn't have posted the job to your guild otherwise." Felix smiled at them both and watched them relax.

Natsu cleared his throat, and straightened himself up, "Er, so what's been going on then? What would you like us to do?" He asked as he stared at this Felix guy curiously.

"Well, it started about three weeks ago, my daughter was playing outside when she'd walked off towards the plant nursery. She's not really supposed to go in there but she's only young. Me and her Papa heard her scream and went running to see what'd happened. But when we got there she was huddled on the floor shaking and crying and the building had been ransacked."

"Poor thing, that must've been scary for her, did she see anything?" Lucy sympathised.

"We're certain she did, but when we ask she won't speak about it. It steals from us every night, regardless of how much we barricade the doors and windows, it manages to find a way in. I worry because without those plants we can't continue our work. I have many mages that rely on my help but our supply is dwindling." He looked down solemnly at the table, Lucy and Natsu could see that helping others meant a lot to him and they were more than willing to help him catch whatever it was reaping havoc on his livelihood.

"So you have no idea what's been stealing from you?" Natsu asked. Not that it really mattered, he'd burn it regardless.

"Unfortunately not, the only person that's seen it is my daughter, but it's too scary for her to talk about." Felix explained.

"Would it be possible for us to try and talk to her? With your permission of course." Lucy asked. If they could get the little girl to describe what she saw then they would be able to figure out a plan.

"You're more than welcome to try, but like I said she is only young so I'm not sure how accurate the details will be. I'll take you to her now, follow me." He said, standing and walking out of the door, with Natsu and Lucy following.

After what seemed like an endless maze of corridors, they entered into a children's play room. There, playing with her toys, was a sweet little girl, she couldn't have been much older than three or four. She looked over at Natsu and Lucy and giggled, bounding over with one of her toys to show it to them, taking a particular interest in Natsu and his crazy pink hair.

"Hey there kiddo. Whatcha got?" He said, plastering his signature grin on his face and crouching down in front of her.

"Amelia's teddy!" She beamed and gave it to him, while she ran back and retrieved another to give to Lucy.

Her father remained standing by the door as he watched his little girl play with Natsu and Lucy. They were trying to make her feel comfortable before they eventually asked her what she saw. Lucy had an idea of how to get the little girl to talk, it was all about compromise, but she just needed to time it right.

She picked up something that resembled a plant and showed it to the child, "Your Daddy grows special plants like this doesn't he?" Lucy asked. Amelia looked at the flower shaped toy before taking it into her own hand.

"Yeah! Daddy and Papa make magic people not sick any more." She smiled.

"Did you know that we're magic people? We've come to help your Papa and Daddy." Natsu whispered into her ear, like it was a big secret that only she was allowed to hear.

"You're magic?!" The little girl gasped, "Show me! Show me!" Amelia jumped up and down in pure joy, clapping her hands together.

Lucy chuckled at her enthusiasm and brought out the silver key to summon Plue, Amelia couldn't believe her eyes, she was in awe of the weird little, shaky thing. "Again, again!" She giggled, the bright smile never leaving her face.

"Alright then, watch this!" Natsu said, he laid his palm out and lit a small flame. He grinned as her mouth fell open in absolute amazement at Natsu's magic. Then, just for her, he turned the flame into a flower, then a star and then anything she requested, before lighting his entire hand up. "It's cool isn't it? You know I could set my whole body on fire, if I wanted."

"Wow, you must be really strong! Can you help Papa and Daddy with your magic?" she asked, still astonished by what just happened. "Amelia was in the nursery when the bad man took all the flowers. He saw her sneaking and said that she should never tell anyone or he'll get her when she's sleeping, but you can burn him with your fire."

Natsu and Lucy both looked at each other, concerned, and then back to where Felix was standing, who looked pretty shocked by what his daughter had just told them. How could someone be so cruel to a child? The two mages nodded at each other before looking back at Amelia, grinning at her, "Of course, we'll help them, you can count on us! I'll burn the bad man with my fire, then he'll be gone for good." Natsu said, watching her small face light up at his words, leaping up to give him a big hug, before returning to what she was playing with.

Natsu and Lucy stood up, waving at the little girl before leaving the room. They followed Felix back into a sitting room, settling on a couch opposite him. "Thank you for what you did there. She was refusing to talk to us but you managed it. You don't happen to have children yourselves?" Felix asked. Should he have asked that? Maybe it was too personal? About to apologise for the intrusion, but stopped as Lucy spoke up.

"Yes, we do actually. We have a son, this is our first time leaving him so it's been a little difficult, but it'll be nice to go home and see him when we're finished here." Lucy said quietly, smiling through glossy eyes as she thought about how much she missed her baby and how desperate she was to cuddle him. She wiped at her eyes quickly, "Sorry, I just miss him that's all." Natsu, feeling her discomfort reached over to take her hand, caressing it softly with his thumb.

"I understand, being a parent can be hard and you never really get use to it. In time, being separated from them gets easier but they'll always be on your mind. How old is your little one?" Felix asked, it was refreshing to speak to other parents for once.

"Four weeks now. We found him on a job at just a few days old, he'd been abandoned so we took him with us and then adopted him." Natsu said, pride emanating from his being. He rather liked telling people he was a dad now and best of all he loved talking about Haru, it made his heart feel full and all the more excited to go home to him.

"Wow, that's wonderful! It takes special people to do something so selfless, I'd say good luck to you both." Felix was in awe, what an incredible thing to do for a helpless baby, not everyone would be so kind. However, as much as he'd love to talk about their children all day, they had business to attend to. "Any way, what do you think now Amelia has spoken to you?"

"Well, it sounds like it's just one man. What I'm confused about is why this person is stealing those plants from you, unless they're a mage themselves or if they're not then they must be selling them?" Lucy pondered, it made perfect sense that someone would do that. They'd see this enormous house and think they could earn the same fortune by selling the plants for whatever price they wanted. "I think the only way to find out is to wait for him."

"I agree. Where are you staying tonight? I ask because the thief only seems to come when its dark out. We have a guest house next to the plant nursery and you're more than welcome to spend the night there, if that makes it easier for you? We can provide food and anything else you might need?" Felix offered, hoping they would accept so they could be there at the right time.

"You mean it? Hell yeah! That beats sleeping outside on the grass." Natsu cheered, that should cheer Lucy up.

"That would be amazing, thank you!" Lucy said, beaming over at Natsu.

Once they'd reached the guest house, it was already getting dark. Felix had told them that he would send some food over and would leave them to it. When both mages went inside, they couldn't believe their eyes. It was huge! Natsu was speechless, even their guest house was bigger than their home back in Magnolia.

Lucy instantly ran over and collapsed onto the bed, chucking her bags onto the table and sighed in relief. Natsu chuckled at her eagerness and walked over shortly after, crawling onto the bed, leaning above her so that their faces were level. He smirked down at her pretty face, "You didn't think I'd forgotten did you?" He said as he slowly came closer, watching her cheeks tint pink as he claimed her lips before she could say anything.

The kiss started off slow, but very quickly turned heated and needy. He'd been dying to get his hands on her all day and now it was just the two of them, he couldn't help the excitement build in his stomach. Lucy reached up and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling lightly, earning her a low growl from Natsu. The sound of his pleasure made her weak, there was something so animalistic about it. She wanted to hear it again and so forced her tongue into his mouth, whimpering into him from the hot wetness. What she'd give to feel that blazing tongue all over her sensitive skin, she could feel herself heat up at just the thought of it.

She loved that they did this now, it made her feel wanted and loved by him and that was an incredible feeling. Natsu was just so hot, it was hard to think straight once he got going. He pulled back and stared into her eyes with pure adoration, her swollen lips were always a feature he dwelled on, proud of himself for doing that to her. She brought her hand down to his neck and brushed over the scar there, making a shiver shoot through Natsu's spine.

"I don't think I'll ever get use to that." She said, reaching forwards and planting another soft peck on his lips.

"I'm certain you won't be saying that by the time we leave. Not with all this free time we have, just waiting around for some guy to show up." Natsu smirked, watching her face turn pinker then it already was as she bashfully looked away from him. She was too cute sometimes, how is it someone as sweet as Lucy could choose someone as hot-headed as him? He'd probably spend the rest of his life trying to figure that one out, but for now, being in her presence and receiving her undivided attention was enough for him.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me, Natsu?" She giggled, only stopping when his mouth attacked hers once more.

This time it was more intense and passionate, it was filled with so much raw emotion a simple kiss didn't seem to be enough any more, he wanted more and so did she. Just as he was about to reach down to her jaw, they heard a clatter and what sounded like glass shattering. It was apparent that even alone, something insisted on interrupting them and neither mage was impressed. Reluctantly stopping in his tracks, Natsu lifted his head and looked around for any intruders, sniffing at the air. His sensitive hearing picked up on footsteps coming from outside.

"I think our guy is outside." He said, leaning down and giving her one last kiss on the lips. "Come on, Luce. We'll have to finish this later." He smirked at her blush, then got up and ran over to the door, about to open it.

"Wait, Natsu! Don't just run into danger like that, we need to think of a plan, we don't know who our enemy is." She exclaimed, why did he insist on running head first into things all the time?

"Huh? Lucy, it's one guy! How hard can it be?" He didn't understand, what was the problem? It was simple; beat up bad guy, get paid then continue making out until they fell asleep. Job done.

Just as Lucy was about to retort, there was a huge explosion and even more shattering glass, then they noticed a faint glow of a flickering light coming in through the window. She bolted off of the bed and after Natsu, who'd already run outside, the entire plant house had been set ablaze. Lucy looked over and saw Felix running towards them, fear in his eyes as he gazed upon the devastation.

"It's on fire! What happened, is he here?!" He shouted at them as he came to a halt.

"Yes he is, but we'll find him, don't you worry." Lucy yelled over the crackling of the fire, pushing Felix away. "Stand back, Natsu will take care of the fire." and just like that, Natsu began to eat it, sucking it up until it had been put out completely, leaving just a charred shell of the building that was once there.

"Felix! Felix!" Someone yelled. They all turned to see another man, panic stricken, running over to them and clutching hold of Felix for dear life. "S-She's gone! Amelia is missing! She's not in her bed and I've looked everywhere but I can't find her. Oh god, what if he's taken her?!" He put his head against his husbands shoulder and began to tear up, while Felix looked at him in shock, dread settling in his stomach.

Natsu walked over, locking eyes with them both, "I promise we'll find her and bring her home to you." He then turned to Lucy, "He's nearby, I can smell him." He took her hand and they ran off in the direction in which the thief had gone.

They ran into a clearing that was surrounded by trees and bushes, the perfect place for an assailant to hide. Natsu came to a halt and let go of Lucy, sniffing at the air again. Lucy was quick to notice his unease as he whipped his head around to look for any movement.

"Is something wrong, Natsu?" Lucy asked, concerned at his serious expression.

He snapped his head to her, catching on to the worry in her voice and sighed, "The girl's with him, I can smell her too. But, it's his scent, I know it from somewhere." Natsu said quietly.

As she opened her mouth to reply, Lucy was suddenly dragged behind a large bush by Natsu. He covered her mouth with his hand and shushed her to keep quiet, whilst he listened to the footsteps that were quickly approaching. Natsu wouldn't usually hide, but that smell was throwing him off, he needed to know who it was first. He cautiously peered around the edge of the bush at the man who's face had been hidden by a hood. Whoever it was had tattered clothes and looked in need of a good bath.

"I know you're here, Fairy Tail, I've been watching you." The man provoked, trying to lure them out.

Natsu, about to jump out the second he mentioned the guild, was pulled back down by Lucy, who shook her head at him. Huffing in annoyance, he remained seated, for now. It was obvious the man didn't know where they were hiding, so for the time being they had the advantage.

"I saw you both get off the train earlier and so I followed you. What are the odds we should stumble across each other again? Have you come to ruin my life further?" He snarled. Natsu was watching him through the shrubbery, he still couldn't get a good look of his face and that voice, where had he heard it before? Who the hell was this guy?

"Come out and face me you cowards! Or I'll hurt the little girl, you wouldn't want that now, would you?" The man threatened, looking around for the two mages to appear from the trees, but neither did. "Very well, what do you think would happen if I... cut off a few of her fingers? How loud do you think she'd scream? Would you come out then?" He laughed maniacally like all of this was some sick joke to him.

Natsu and Lucy both looked at each other in disbelief, surely he was bluffing? Lucy felt bile come up into her throat, what a disgusting thing to threaten! Luckily, Natsu couldn't see the little girl with him, she was nearby though. He could hear her whimpering and could only hope that she was unharmed.

"No? Fine. Then what about… that little baby of yours? How loud would he scream?" About to laugh again, but was stopped abruptly as he felt himself being choked and lifted off of the ground by a very strong grip around his collar. Yet he still managed to smirk as he stared into the piercing eyes of a very pissed off dragon slayer.

"How do you know my son?!" Natsu bellowed, watching the man begin to struggle against his hold. In his attempt to free himself, the hood finally fell down from the guys head, revealing his face.

"How, indeed…" The man chuckled, his voice strained.

Taken aback, Natsu's eyes were like saucers as he stared into the eyes of none other than Haru's biological father. "It's you!" Natsu exclaimed, his grip tightening around the still smirking man's clothes, his anger returning tenfold. "Start talking! What're you doing here?!" He brought his other fist up and set it alight, this man would pay for what he'd threatened, but first, Natsu needed answers. "Speak! Or I swear I'll scorch that fucking smile right off your face!"

Lucy had taken it upon herself to retrieve the little girl while Natsu dealt with the aggressor. She was absolutely horrified by what he'd said, so much so it was hard to think straight, but she had to remind herself that no matter what, this was one man and Haru was safe at home. Gray and Juvia were powerful mages, they would protect him if anything were to happen.

Once she'd found the poor little thing, Lucy quickly checked her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. Amelia recognised the blonde instantly and jumped into her arms, clinging on for dear life. Lucy tried to calm her down, but it was so heart breaking to see. She began to walk back to where Natsu was, stroking the little girls back as she wept into Lucy's shoulder.

She felt such empathy for the girl, maybe it was because she was now a mother herself, but seeing her in such distress held a lot more meaning then it once did. She could only imagine how Felix and his husband must be feeling, not knowing if their daughter was safe or whether she'd even return home, it must be utterly heart wrenching.

Once she'd reached the clearing, her eyes nearly shot out of her skull, her knees felt like they were about to buckle as she laid eyes upon the man that Natsu's fist was about to make contact with. He yelped out in pain and collapsed onto the ground, clutching at his painful, bloodied nose. Out of all the people it could have been, it had to be him, the man that'd knowingly left Haru to burn in that fire, the man that she never wanted to see or think about again.

Natsu looked over to Lucy, relieved to see that she'd found Amelia, but winced at the clear agony in her eyes from just being in this man's presence again. It must've brought back all of those dreaded worries and memories that she'd tried so hard to get over.

"Lucy, leave him to me, I've got this. Concentrate on Amelia, she needs you right now." Natsu said, trying to reassure her. Caring for the girl was a good distraction and that's exactly what Lucy needed.

Lucy nodded at him, but her eyes were glued to the groaning man on the floor. Her body had frozen in place and she couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in her stomach. She needed to collect herself, Natsu was right, Amelia needed the comfort of an adult, she'd been taken from her bed by the 'bad man' and that must have been so frightening for her. She stayed behind Natsu and sat down on a log, holding the little girl close, soothing her until she calmed down.

"How touching… So, how is the runt doing? Still alive I hear? Unlike my wife you failed to save." He spat the last bit, with blood pouring out from his nose as he looked up to Natsu.

"That's what this is about? You've got some nerve, the baby is none of your concern any more." Natsu sneered, what a pathetic excuse of a man, he was just about ready to singe every last hair on this weasel's body. "You left him to die, what kind of sick bastard does that to his own child?"

"That puny rat was good for nothing, he built a rift between me and my wife yet all he did was make her suffer. It was one complication after another, but I wanted to believe that by supporting her, everything would turn out alright. But it was made clear to me when she gave birth to such a feeble and weak baby, that I could never love it. He was so sickly and small, no son of mine would be so pathetic! But she chose the baby over me, so I walked away." He snarled, only resentment and bitterness with every word he spoke with no sign of compassion for the little one.

"Be quiet! I don't want to hear any more! How can you say such things? He just needed some extra attention which is exactly what we've given to him, because he deserves to be loved." Lucy shook her head in disbelief, as she listened to the man laugh at her words. What was he saying? She felt like crying but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, not in front of him any way. Taking in a deep breath, she continued, "If you were so appalled by your own child, then why're you kidnapping other peoples? Why are you here?"

"My home was destroyed, remember? I had to get by somehow and those magic flowers I stole sold for a good amount of money, but I wanted more so I thought I'd kidnap the girl and hold her ransom. But you two have ruined my plans again." He said, slowly realising his mistake as he stared into the eyes of a very outraged and riled up Natsu. He felt all of his confidence leave him, he no longer had the little girl as leverage and no way out of the sticky situation he'd gotten himself into.

"Enough talking, I've heard enough of your crap!" Natsu shouted, "I should've done this the first time we met!"

He was struggling to comprehend how such an asshole like this guy, could produce something as sweet and good natured as Haru. It really brought home how glad he was that they'd found the baby when they did, because otherwise… well, it didn't matter now, this man was going to pay for everything.

The man instantly started cowering, reminiscent of his first meeting with Natsu. Suddenly all of his bravado from earlier had gone as Natsu stormed towards him, setting his entire body on fire. Lucy couldn't help but smile at how fiercely protective he was over their family, she felt her earlier fear fade, there was never anything to worry about.

Lucy tapped little Amelia on the shoulder to show her what Natsu had said he'd do earlier that day. Her eyes were wide with amazement, as Natsu used his magic to burn every last inch of the pathetic man until he was no longer conscious, tying him to a tree so the council could come and collect him.

"Wow, Natsu! You really did set that man on fire!" Amelia squealed from Lucy's arms, making the blonde giggle.

"I told ya I would and now the bad man will never come back." He grinned from ear to ear at her, ruffling her hair. "We should get you home, I bet your Papa and Daddy are worried about you?"

He looked to Lucy who smiled at him but he could still see the hurt in her expression, this was a totally unexpected turn of events and she would need time to run it through her head. He took her hand and they walked back to the mansion, breathing in the brisk air to cool themselves off. All of them needed a warm bed and a good nights sleep, they were exhausted both physically and mentally. However, now with the job completed, they could get paid and return home to Haru, and that was worth every single hardship they faced.

Amelia spotted both of her fathers and smiled excitedly at them, once being put down on the ground, she ran as fast as she could and flew into their arms, never wanting to let go. Natsu and Lucy watched as the little family were reunited and it was incredibly heart warming.

"Thank you so much for everything you've done! There isn't enough on this planet we could give to thank you for returning Amelia to us." Felix's husband said to them, unable to control the happy tears that slid down his face.

"Hey, don't worry about it, she's one brave little girl. The thief has been taken care of as well." Natsu said, pride emanating from him for being the one that defeated him. Although, he was a little disappointed that he'd not been a mage, all that talk and no substance. That was usually the case with people that wanted to take him on, even when they were mages, they very rarely stood a chance.

"I have your reward here actually, I wanted to give it to you now as a thank you." Felix said, passing the huge bag of money to Natsu.

"Whoa, you sure you counted this correctly? Seems a bit heavy!" Lucy rolled her eyes, typical Natsu and his blabber mouth!

"I doubled it, that's why it's heavier. You've been so kind to us all and you even befriended Amelia who I'm sure is going to be talking about you two for a very long time. She's going to miss you both dearly." Felix looked over to where his husband was standing with little Amelia in his arms, smiling and laughing. "You two have gone beyond what either of us expected and above everything you kept our daughter safe, for which I could never repay you for."

Now Lucy felt bad, he'd been so generous since their arrival that she didn't feel deserving of the extra money, but it would come in handy with Haru, that's for sure. "That's very sweet of you, but are you sure? You were offering a large amount as it is and now that your business is going down are you sure you want to double it?" Lucy asked.

"Don't worry about that, we'll get by. Family is more important, right?" Felix smiled at them before bidding them good night.

Natsu and Lucy returned to the guest house, smiles on both of their faces at the extra money. Now they wouldn't have to work for a while and would have all that free time at home with Haru, to watch him grow.

Lucy collapsed onto the couch by the window and sighed, today had been a mind fuck and that was putting it lightly. Natsu grabbed a water cannister from his bag and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed opposite her, not sure if she wanted to talk or be left alone to think. He took a few large gulps of liquid before chucking it to her, hoping it would refresh her somewhat. After what seemed like hours of staring into the abyss, she finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry I wasn't much help back there, when I saw who it was, I froze. I don't know what came over me." Lucy said, staring into her lap and avoiding Natsu's gaze.

"But you saved the girl, and you made sure she was okay, that's still helping Luce. Seeing that guy threw me off as well, I definitely wasn't expecting to see him." Natsu said, he understood how she felt, it was a shock, for sure.

"Is that really what jealousy and grief does? We've met some pretty awful people but there has always been some sort of reason behind their actions, but I'm struggling to understand his reasoning for despising his own child so much." Lucy finally looked up to Natsu, he looked so serious, this wasn't like him at all, it was probably troubling him just as much.

"There is no reason, Luce. We've all been through grief, he's obviously a very sick and twisted person, but in the end, he's the one missing out, not us. While he's lost everything, we've gained our little boy. Haru's what made us a family and that's something I'll be forever thankful for." Natsu said, he realised then just how much he truly missed his son. As nice as it was to go on a job again, he was ready to go home and he could see Lucy was too.

"I miss him too, Natsu." Lucy said quietly, smiling at him. He didn't even need to tell her what he was thinking, she already knew.

Natsu moved himself to sit next to her. Reaching out, he cupped the sides of her face in his hands with the most delicate touch, like she was some fragile piece of porcelain and gave her a half smile. She always wore her heart on her sleeve and tried to see things through the eyes of others, and he could tell it was affecting her that she couldn't do that this time, not with what that guy had done. But he admired her for it just the same, it was a quality she'd always possessed, one that'd attracted him to her in the first place.

He pulled her face in, grinning as his nose brushed ever so lightly against hers, "We have some unfinished business to attend to, Lucy." He wanted her so badly, especially after what'd happened, he didn't think he could wait much longer.

She looked deep into his stunning green eyes and smiled back, allowing him to capture her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. Instantly, they both felt every negative emotion slowly leave their bodies and were left with the tingling sensation on their lips, where their mouths merged together in a fluid motion over and over again.

He hoisted her up and carried her over to the bed, lifting the covers and placing her gently down on the soft sheets, never breaking contact. He climbed on top of her and continued to assault her mouth with his, sucking lightly on her bottom lip. Natsu wanted to venture further, to explore places he hadn't been yet. Breaking off from her lips, he made his way, ever so attentively, up her jaw, down to her ear and onto her neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake.

She felt like she was in heaven, as he greedily swallowed each and every sound she made. Hearing her gasp and moan as he savoured her sensitive skin, made him want to just take her and throw caution to the wind, but he had more self-control then that, that day would come eventually. If this was how she reacted with just a bit of heavy petting, then god knows how she'd feel if he went any further.

But tonight wasn't that night, he didn't want to push it too far and so kept all activity above the collar bone and so did she. They continued like this for who knows how long before eventually breaking away and falling asleep. Lucy was nicely snuggled up to Natsu, relishing in his warmth and he was sprawled out, taking full advantage of the enormous bed.

Both of their lips had been thoroughly used and abused and their skin looked red and swollen. She was definitely going to have marks in the morning, but it didn't matter because she'd given as good as she'd got, so with any luck, Natsu would too and she couldn't wait to see his reaction at her handy work.

Hi guys, I hope you enjoyed, even if it was a bit darker, but they finally completed their first job away from the baby. There are a few things from this chapter that haven't been answered, which will be explained in the next chapter, it would be way too long otherwise. Thank you for reading!