#the feeling of exploring the sun station and your heart just. sinking.

[waitineedaname]

anybody else get really sad when they realize they can't play outer wilds for the first time again

#listening to travelers encore... AUGH #no game is ever gonna hit me the way this game did #genuinely a one of a kind experience #the thrill of discovery and the feeling of putting together a puzzle you dont even know the shape of #the thought and care that's put into every inch of the game #the feeling of exploring the sun station and your heart just. sinking. #the mystery of the quantum moon #the sense of urgency when you finally get that warp core #and don't get me STARTED on echoes of the eye #using that artifact for the first time and just being like 👁👄👁 #im still going fucking nuts about how MUCH they packed into a DLC #the best video games youll ever play are indie games that cost like 20 bucks

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!Hypnos x Reader Headcanons

❣ Hypnos didn't really understand mortals' fear of death. Well, partly. His brother could be quite intimidating, heh. (And Hypnos had the sinking feeling that Thanatos… Didn't really like him, anymore? Just like Mother…) But, otherwise, he didn't really see the problem. Everyone had to die sometime, right? Well, almost everyone. But, hey! Might as well make the best of it, right? The only part of dying that really bothered Hypnos was the stream of souls that he had to welcome into the realm. But, most were fine on their own, so he didn't see the problem with catching up on some sleep. It wasn't like he'd get in much trouble… Probably. Most of the time, it was only Zagreus who disturbed his slumber, and the prince never got upset over the god of sleep doing his thing. This time around, Hypnos hadn't actually intended to fall asleep, it just sort of… Happened. And when he awoke, it wasn't as usual, with a sudden burst of noise that awoke him, alerting him of Zagreus' return. No, this time it was slow, making him feel lethargic and calm, as though he was still in a dream. A cold touch of someone prodding softly at him. When he looked down, he saw you - and for a moment, he was sure he was still dreaming. After all, someone as gorgeous as you couldn't truly exist, could you?

💤 Hypnos finds himself speechless for a second, unable to focus on anything but your face, so much so that it takes him a moment to realize you were speaking. The god of sleep shakes himself off, asking you to repeat yourself. You tell him that you were confused, unsure where you were and why you were here and what had happened to you. It's then that Hypnos cheerily informs you that you were in the Underworld, specifically the house of Lord Hades. His smile fades as you come to terms with the fact that you were dead. You had died and hadn't even realized it, and now you were in the realm of Hades, where you would spend all of eternity. Something in Hypnos' chest twisted and clenched in pain, and he reached out to lay a hand on your shoulder. For some reason, he had the urge to comfort you.

"Hey, it's not all that bad," He reassured you, floating over to guide you to the Lord's station. "In fact, to help you, I'll give you a tour! And I don't do that for just anyone, you're special."

❣ It was surprising to him when you stuck by him after that. Apparently, his welcome had been so warm that it made quite the impression on you, thinking him far less intimidating than the other gods and shades within the House. Not that Hypnos minded - quite the opposite! It wasn't often that he was thought upon favorably, outside of the prince, maybe. And not many people talked to him outside of scolding him for his poor work and trying to get some shut-eye in the job, so it was a nice change of pace to talk with you. In all honesty, Hypnos couldn't really think of much to talk about himself, perfectly content with listening to you. The sound of your voice was almost like music to him, so soothing and comforting, almost like a lullaby. But, he fought to keep himself awake to listen - he learned of your life while alive, on the surface. Of your family and your friends, who you missed. Your likes, your interests, hobbies, how you passed the time, stories of different moments in your life. The god imagined what it would be like if he had been there with you…

💤 Believe it or not, shades can sleep. It's not really needed, but certainly is a viable way to pass the time. Eternity would probably be rather boring without the ability to sleep, to dream. When Hypnos is certain no one is looking, he floats away from his post, looking for you. He finds you exactly where he thought you were, sleeping in one of the soft, cushioned chairs that Zagreus had commissioned. Giddiness bubbles up and he grins, eyes half-lidded and glinting with adoration down at you. He feels so lucky that you had picked a spit so far away from the prying eyes of everyone else. He reaches out a hand, hesitantly. This… This is okay, right? You were friends, after all. You trusted him. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He cups your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. Oh, you were so perfect when you slept. But, then again, when did you not? Still, you were so gorgeous, but not even aware of it. Did you dream of him? He dreamt of you - it had started off innocent enough. Talking with him, exploring the Underworld together, of him being mortal and living a life with you, racing through fields and feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin and your hand in his. But, then it was of your lips on his, your arms around him, "I love you"'s traded, of introducing you to his brother and mother and them adoring you and being so proud of him. And whenever he awoke, he ached with loneliness.

❣It isn't long before you get him to open up to you. It's only fair, after all. You had vented to him about your fears and frustrations, of all the things you missed and had wanted to do, all cut short. It takes some coaxing, assuring him that it was okay to talk about what was bothering him, even if it may be "easier" to keep it inside. He's quiet when he finally admits his fears, his jealousy. Had his brother truly grown to hate him? He's sure he has, but even if he didn't, Mother certainly has. As much as he liked Zagreus, he felt it unfair that Nyx seemed to favor him over Hypnos. Zagreus already had a mother, why did he need to take Nyx's love, too? Did anyone truly like him, or just simply tolerate or secretly hate him? He wants it just roll off his back, to just sleep it off, but it's become harder and harder… You hold Hypnos as he softly cries, and feel how cool his skin is as he holds you back. You tell him that you could never hate him. You *love* him and he was your friend, your best friend in the whole House, in all of the Underworld, even. Even if everyone else hated him, you'd never leave his side. It's then that the god confesses, teary-eyed and smile wobbly, his feelings for you. He loved you, too, was in love with you. And in moments, his heart is crushed - as you attempt to let him down gently, squirming out of his hold, saying you love him as a friend. Nothing more.

💤 This is the right thing to do, Hypnos reassures himself. He couldn't lose you, too. Not you. Everyone else could leave him, but please, not you. You were his destined mate, certainly. Why else would he come to like you, love you so quickly? It had to be the work of The Fates. It had to be. He was just doing this as a precaution. After all, you couldn't leave him if you were asleep. He cupped your face, thumb dragging over your bottom lip as he watched you. He felt… So tired. He floated down to lay beside you. It would only be a short nap, he lied to himself. No one would miss him, anyway. As he felt himself drift off to sleep, he thought of how he would convince you that you were destined for one another. Visiting you in your dreams, whispering to you as you slept to influence your subconscious… You and he would be together forever in no time at all...

#yandere x reader #yandere hades game x reader #yandere hades #yandere hades x reader #yandere hades game #hypnos x reader #yandere hypnos x reader #yandere hypnos #hades x reader #hades game x reader #yandere #hypnos hades #hades hypnos #hades #hades game

[waveypedia]

This is why we can’t have nice things- Chat Noir and Ladybug

It’s You, My Dear

Ladybug sighs and slaps her hand against her head. “This is why we can’t have nice things, Chat.”

Chat flashes his famous Cheshire grin, wide and proud, and locks his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels to burn excess energy. “This is just an expression of my artistic genius.”

“There’s flour all over my kitchen,” Ladybug deadpans. “The kitchen that took me an hour to set up so we could cook together.”

“And now I’ve helped you decorate!” Chat replies, grinning,  “Don’t crap on my creativity, M’Lady!”

“I would never crap on actual creativity,” Ladybug sighs. “This is just a mess.”

“But it’s our mess,” Chat gives Ladybug his best winning smile.

Ladybug boops Chat on the nose, causing his mouth to open in a small, perfect ‘o’. “No, it’s yours.”

Chat chuckles softly and brushes some flour off of his suit. They float to the ground like tiny snowflakes, revealing the darkness of his suit underneath. “All right, My Lady. I concede. You’re by far the better cook out of both of us. I’ll clean up, and you cook up a purr-fect feast.”

Ladybug snorts and gently slaps a layer of flour off Chat’s shoulder. “I spend a lot of time baking, Kitty, don’t be discouraged.”

Chat Noir simply laughs and brushes more flour off of him. It coats the floor. “I don’t mind if my cookies aren’t perfect. It’s fun to make them. A good friend taught me how!”

Ladybug smiles wistfully. Her train of thought arrives at the familiar Adrien station, like always, and she remembers the day a couple years ago when she taught Adrien how to bake chocolate chip cookies. But, of course, the two instances are completely unrelated.

She pushes away the nostalgia of that sweet summer day and consciously focuses on the here and now. She could make these cookies in her sleep (and she has), but right now, Chat deserves her attention.

He’s gotten most of the flour off of him now, so he looks much more like himself than Chat Blanc (although, whenever those heartbreaking memories surface when Ladybug looks at flour-covered Chat, all she has to do is look into his eyes. His beautiful, un-akumatized, green eyes. That’s her kitty.) and is sweeping up the flour on the makeshift kitchen floor - which is really a rooftop. Flour soars off the roof and into the streets below, causing passing Parisians to look up, point, and shout with excitement. Ladybug waves at them, and they eagerly wave back. She smiles at the phones with cameras pointed at her and imagines Alya’s future blog post.

But that doesn’t matter right now. She and Chat step away from the roof, and after a little while, the novelty wears off. The consistent subtle murmur of passerbys’ chatter from the streets fades into the background, and Ladybug turns back to her cookies.

“Almost done, Chat,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Wonderful, M’Lady,” he replies, spreading out the checkered picnic blanket. It’s her parent’s, soft and worn from use, and she takes it out on picnics with her friends all the time. Granted, they’re usually in a park rather than on a rooftop. “I think my friend has a picnic blanket like this. She likes to throw picnics.”

Ladybug hums in response as she takes the first batch of cookies out of the oven. “Oh, really? This is my parents’. I think it used to be popular.”

“My friend’s picnic blanket is her parents’, too,” he replies absently. “It must be.”

Ladybug piles the cookies on a plate and sets them next to the picnic basket on the blanket. Chat Noir is seated already, with his legs dangling off the rooftop, gazing at the horizon in the distance. His expression is soft and thoughtful, and his eyes are filled with a million thoughts she can not discern. It’s endearing.

Ladybug sits down next to him. “Are you ready, Kitty?”

His smile is back in full force as he snaps his head over to meet her gaze. “Of course, Bugaboo!”

Ladybug rolls her eyes, but busies herself with setting out plates for each of them. He statches a piece of cheese for his kwami for later. 

She savors the way his eyes light up with delight.

They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as they enjoy the food. Parisians stroll along the streets below, mostly unaware of the heroes perched above them, save for a few sharp-eyed denizens who are rewarded with waves and winks for their efforts. After a while, Chat leans his head against Ladybug’s shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.

Ladybug snorts and pushes him, but gently. “You’re too tall for this, Chat.”

His only response is to hum contentedly and snuggle in closer, causing her to giggle despite herself. His neck is twisted almost sideways to fit on her shoulder, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable in the slightest.

She shoves him a little harder. “Chat, c’mon. You’re going to get a kink in your neck.”

“I sleep in class all the time, My Lady. I don’t mind it.” But he obliges, rubbing his neck. 

Ladybug sighs good-naturedly. “That’s not good, Chat.” She’s aware that she’s a hypocrite, but only sometimes. She tries not to be. It’s hard enough to keep her grades up with all her… extracurricular activities.

Chat shrugs nonchalantly. “Sometimes I have to get up really early for pho- for my job,” he explains. “And of course the midnight akumas. I swear, does Hawk Moth ever sleep?”

Ladybug laughs at that. Tension she didn’t even realize was there fades away, floating into the wind as Ladybug’s giggles tinkle like bells and Chat grins wide at the validation. “His sleep schedule must be so messed up. Maybe that’s why he’s like that.”

“A lack of sleep does make me quite a grumpy cat,” Chat muses. “But I can say with certainty that I’ve never gone on a homicidal violence spree and tried to steal jewelry because of it.”

Ladybug giggles again. “Good job on beating Hawk Moth, then.”

Chat smirks and sighs contentedly, picking up a cookie. He sighs with pure delight as his teeth sink into it.

Ladybug watches him, smirking, ignoring the growing valley of joy in her chest at the validation. Chat’s initial reaction whenever he eats sweets is always the same - pure bliss, over the top, but always genuine. It never fails to make her smile.

She’s noticed before that Adrien reacts similarly whenever she brings in baked goods, and she knows full well he’s on a very strict diet (one that always seems to leave him tired and drained, no matter how much she tries to hide it). Chat’s home situation is probably similar, especially based on the little details he’s let slip out, which makes her blood boil. So she’s made it her mission to fill both boys up with all the treats they can handle.

It’s the little things.

“These are wonderful, M’Lady,” Chat says softly. He won’t meet her eyes.

Ladybug fights the smile growing on her face and shoves him playfully. Her feelings, and the mood, are threatening to take a turn down a road she’s terrified to explore.

Adrien. Adrien. Adrien. Remember Adrien. Do not fall for Chat Noir. Don’t ruin what you have.

“You’re just saying that,” she teases, even though she knows he’s not. The guilt stings in her stomach, settling with the homemade food she’s eating.

“Why, M’Lady, I meant what I said! These cookies are simply purr-fect.”

Ladybug placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “You got flour all over my makeshift kitchen.”

“These cookies are all the better because you made them, My Lady,” Chat smiled back, unfazed in the face of Ladybug’s annoyance, but with a touch of genuinity. 

Ladybug huffed in response and spread out the picnic blanket. “Sit down already. You’re going to fill yourself up on cookies.”

Chat put the cookie he was about to bite into down and cast a longing look at the cookie platter, but sat down without complaint. “You’re a wonderful cook, My Lady!”

Ladybug smiles softly. “Thank you, Kitty.”

They lean against each other, foreheads touching, and watch the sunset. Oranges and pinks flush Paris  in auroric flames. Ladybug’s hand tingles from where it’s brushing Chat’s and the cookies. 

“You know,” Chat says softly, so softly Ladybug isn’t sure if she’s imagining his voice or not, “You say we can’t have nice things, but this seems pretty nice to me.”

A grin slowly worms its way up Ladybug’s face. “Yeah,” she replies, equally as soft. Chat’s ears twitch. “I think so too.” In more ways than one.

Their hands brush closer and closer until their fingers close around each other. Somehow, inexplicably, she knows Chat hears her unsaid words.

“Pretty nice,” she echoes, half to herself, as they sit on the rooftops of their city and watch the world go by. All they have is each other. All they need is each other.

The sun sets, and the world turns to shades of gray, and still they sit. Ladybug pulls out the hot chocolate, kept warm in the thermoses her family swears up and down by. They stay long after color bleeds out of the world, shoulders touching, hands entwined, heads leaning against each other despite the height difference. 

It’s nearing midnight when Ladybug shifts her asleep foot and breaks the proverbial blanket over the two of them. A pang of regret resonates in her heart, but as she shakes life into her cold limbs, she knows it’s for the best. Parting is never easy, even if it’s just for the night.

With her kitty, she’d rather always be with him. Every goodbye hurts.

Chat stands up and stretches, curling up his back and tail just like a real cat. Ladybug’s mouth quirks into a teasing smile, and she reaches out to give him a quick scratch under the chin, relishing in the way his eyes close in pure safety and contentment. She presses her fingers slightly closer to feel the purr that rumbles through his body, steady and sure.

They divvy up the remaining snacks (Ladybug sneaks him half her share - he needs it more than she does. Even if all of her conceptions of his home life are mistaken, blown out of proportion, based on what she knows of Adrien’s, she does live above a bakery. But she’s fairly certain she’s not wrong on this one, despite how much she hopes she is.) and part ways for the night. Chat gives her a tight hug, and he’s so warm, just like a real cat. Ladybug melts in his embrace, and wishes they could stay there forever, frozen, untouched by the world moving around them. She knows he’s thinking the same thing.

Alas, it does have to end, and they part ways with a wave and a few nonsensical words shouted to the wind with the adrenaline from movement and the cold air kicking into their tired bodies. Ladybug begins the trek home, her limbs moving mechanically through the familiar movements as she soars over Paris in a way most people could only dream to.

When she’s safe in bed, with her diminished share of snacks tucked safely away in the cupboard, Marinette clutches her cat pillow to her and bundles up in her blankets. She thinks about how they don’t quite compare to Chat’s warmth.

Tikki, curling up on Marinette’s pillow, smiles knowingly.

~

these guys are really fun to write fluff for 

title is from my dear from red velvet! lyrics from this song actually inspired me to make a doc filled with title ideas (mostly song lyrics, which is what i’ve been drawing a lot from lately) and i’ve been saving this one since june 😳 i think it fits here

#wavey writes #my asks #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fic #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #cat noir #ladynoir #love square #adrienette #tikki

[jennagill]

Take a Shot at Love

Summary: Katniss is new in town and Peeta is her range guide. Now rated M. 

Part 3 is written for @promptsinpanem in the 15 Days to Finish Your Fic (For Kika) Round. Parts 1 and 2 on AO3 here. They’re short if you missed them in ... checks notes... 2015 and 2018.

Yes. I told him yes. His face brightened into a warm smile at my acceptance. We agreed to meet at the Club but that doesn't stop the butterflies in my stomach while I get ready in my apartment. 

Right now I'm struggling with what to wear. Practical over anything else. Closed toe shoes, high neck top, practical above anything else. I don’t want a rogue shell casing burning me. Besides, it's only a Sunday afternoon, right?

So it feels like a date, but I—and anything else in my head is blinded by the flash of someone’s daytime running lights outside my apartment. It’s just someone turning around but my eyes cut to the clock and I need to leave now. Long-sleeve turtleneck and vest with jeans it is, as I slide into my boots and head out the door. The drive over to the Capitol Hunting Club is mercifully short, compared to the growing list of questions in my head. I park and grab my bow and quiver with standard arrows before rushing inside. 

The main showroom is packed. Who knew so many people wanted to attend this event? How am I ever going to find Peeta in here? My mind buzzes as I scan for his face when a gentle nudge from behind stops me in my tracks. 

“Hey, found you,” he greets me with another one of those disarming smiles. 

He’s definitely cleaned up well. Gone is the safety hue and in its place, a fetching shade that matches his eyes. 

“Hey, uh yeah. This place is crazy busy. How'd you manage the day off from work?” I ask as my eyes roam the facility and catch a few familiar faces. “Looks like they have the whole staff on point here tonight.”

“I traded a coworker for a few Saturdays. It was quite the negotiation,” he pauses for a long moment, as if he is deciding something. “Ultimately though, I told him that I had a really special date,” he says as heat blooms across his cheeks. 

“So this is a date, then?” I say with caution. “I wasn't sure, so I'm glad we have that clarified.” It almost sounds like a contract, rather than romance.

“It's a date if you allow it,” he stammers as his cheeks reach beet red before settling back into his normal skin tone.

I consider this, weighing my heart, body, and head on the matter. I can only imagine the confusion my face must show until I meet his eyes and the fog begins to lift. “I'll allow it, though...having a first date on Valentine's Day? What kind of omen is that?”

“Truth be told, Katniss, I've been wanting to ask you out for months but never worked up the courage until now,” he says quietly. “I’m not placing any special emphasis on the day, I’m just happy to be here, with you.”

Well that’s hard to argue. “Okay, well where do you want to start?” I try with a smile.

“Shoot first?”

“Pardon?”

“The pistol range, then the archery range, and then the meal?” 

“Oh, I don’t… really know that much about pistols, my only experience with guns is the shooting we did the other weekend.”

“Oh I have a feeling you’ll be dead on with your aim and we can rent from the club too since I don’t own a pistol. I’ll run you through a safety briefing too.”

I keep considering his motives and his actions, if they are aligned or if I’m missing something as we move to the first station. It’s not much more than a series of door frames with walls in between, just enough for two people to stand closely with a shelf at waist height to place the weapons. I watch Peeta take aim at the ringed hearts on paper hung seven yards away. Blue, purple, and pink. Pop, pop, pop, goes my nerves and heart. The sound is too much on this indoor range with the pistols, even with the noise canceling headphones Peeta lent me. 

“Your turn,” he gestures and shows me that the pistol is on safety and pointed down range on the shelf. He changes the target out for good measure too. 

I take the pistol in my hands, forming the teacup he mentioned and squinting at the target. The cool steel chills me—I’m more accustomed to the warm bow wood. I flip the safety off and squeeze the trigger, taking a breath between shots. A crackle of electricity runs through my shoulders and spine as I finish my clip but it’s not the same thrill found in the woods. I take another glance at the target. All of the paper hearts are shredded.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Peeta asks in amazement.

“Thanks, though I think I’ll stick with my bow or trap and skeet,” I say, flipping the safety back on, placing the weapon down, and backing away from the shelf. 

Peeta sends another series of shots down range but I’m done shooting pistols for the day. My fingers are itching to get back on a bow. I go over to the archery station for some sanity while Peeta returns the equipment to the rental booth.

Red balloons are attached to the various targets on the archery range with prizes inside. Peeta takes aim with precision and hits nearly all of them. The slips float down to the floor to be retrieved by attendants. “Bullseye! Have you been taking lessons?” I ask casually. 

“No. I just replayed what you told me in my head, and well—I wanted to impress you.” A lopsided grin sneaks across his face and he shuffles his feet.

His honesty takes me aback. He says everything in such an offhand way and I am foolish to have suspected ulterior motives. “Well...it shows, you’ve improved a lot since the other day.” 

He beams at the praise and then it’s my turn to shoot. The attendant notices that the standing balloon targets offer no challenge for me, so he releases balloons from a ceiling net I had not seen earlier. At first it seems stupid, but it turns out to be kind of fun. Much more like hunting a moving creature, albeit a slow-moving one. Since I’m hitting everything he releases, he starts increasing the number of balloons in the drop. I forget the rest of the range and this date and lose myself in the shooting. When I manage to take down all five balloons in one round, I realize it’s so quiet I can hear each prize slip hit the floor. I turn and see the majority of the people of the range have stopped to watch me. Their faces show everything from jealous to admiration, though Peeta’s face is the brightest of them all.

The attendant calls for cease fire and I retrieve my arrows and prize slips—gift cards for the Club store and café, mostly. We venture toward the cake and coffee bar set out for this event. I wrinkle my nose at the coffee but notice that they offer hot chocolate too. “Oooh, that cake looks amazing!” 

“You should have a slice, I have it on good authority that it's delicious,” he says.

He's met with a raised eyebrow.

“It's from my parent’s bakery,” he shrugs with another disarming smile. “Red velvet cake, cream cheese icing, and dark chocolate shavings on top.”

And he’s not wrong. The dark flavors burst in my mouth, sending ripple effects down my spine. The cake and hot chocolate together give me a nervous energy, propelling me toward the next steps of this date. I feel like I could run 26.2 miles now, okay maybe just a half marathon. We both finish our desserts though I have something sweeter in mind. 

“Will you walk me out to my car, Peeta?” 

Like a gentleman, he does and he waits patiently while I put up my equipment in the trunk. 

“Katniss, may I kiss you goodnight—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish because it’s me that leans in, answering his question with my own response. His lips are surprised but warm up instantly to me. His kisses are warm. His kisses leave me dizzy with want. Amazing kisses. Toe-curling kisses. I feel a swipe of his hot tongue in my mouth and I know that I need more.

He must feel the same way since he’s pulling me closer to him and kissing my jaw and neck, or what he can reach around my sweater. His body is so firm wrapped up with mine, something I’d like to explore more in private.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be goodnight,” I say to the sinking sun and feel him pause at the shell of my ear, “maybe we can—“ deep breath “maybe we could go back to my place?” 

Peeta clears his throat and meets my eyes, “Really?” His eyes cut to the parking lot, realizing that we’re still in a very public place.

“Um, yeah, I don’t live far from here and you could follow me there, if you—if you want to, that is,” I manage, though my confidence is slipping.

“Heck yeah, lead the way!” he says and grins. 

“Okay, right, well let’s go,” I say before I change my mind.

If I thought the drive over to the Club was short earlier, this one flew by, my mind racing at the scenario I’ve just proposed. We’ve made it back to my place before I can second guess myself any further. 

He parks next to me and follows me to the door, “This is a great location,” he chatters as I unlock it, “I mean, it’s a nice place too,” and then he’s scratching the back of his neck, looking around my sparse apartment.

“Well… as you know, I haven’t been in town very long and it seems like I spend most of my free time out at the Club, trying to compete for your attention with others,” I shrug. 

“Compete?“ he laughs and hides his face in his large hand for a moment. “You don’t have any competition anywhere, Katniss,” and this time, it’s him that leans in. 

Our lips have barely touched when I ask, “Couch or bed?”

He pulls back to look at me and curls that lip of his under a set of very white teeth. “Honestly, Katniss, whatever happens, you’re calling the shots.” 

“Right then, bed it is,” and I pull him into my bedroom.

We spend the next few hours teasing, tasting, and exploring as much of each other as possible since Peeta only has one condom with him. He makes it last though and thoroughly fucks me. My favorite part is probably his ass. I remember checking it out on that very first day, and it’s certainly ample to cup while trying to coax him deeper into my throat or dig my heels into it as I spur him to the orgasms that finally give our bodies peace. My mind wanders just before we drift off to sleep, I just hope he doesn’t have an early shift tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Thank you @papofglencoe for the encouragement and quick beta skills on this third part! It was fun to come out of semi-retirement!

#look out for a moodboard #everlark fanfiction #prompts in panem #skeet!everlark #I write stuff #for kika

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Way Our Horizons Meet: Chap. 3

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

A/N: This chapter takes place after the events of 1x10.

Read Chapters 1-2 Here on AO3

                                   XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hey.

Another text flashed across his phone again a few days later. He’d stayed at the intersection to help with the aftermath of the solar storm and subsequent traffic accidents. After T.K. had basically broken up with him (could you break up if you’d never been officially together?) it hadn’t seemed right to follow him into the ambulance despite the alarming sight of blood staining his shirt. It wasn’t his place, wasn’t his right, to go and hold T.K.’s hand while they stitched him together again.

And then, just as Carlos had collapsed onto the couch at home, fully prepared to wallow in his post-breakup-not-breakup misery, there it was. A text. Just that one word again. His fingers hovered over the keys as he debated how to respond. Or if he even should at all. God damn this man. How could one word have such a powerful hold over him?

Before he could make a decision the entire phone lit up with T.K.’s name, the insistent vibration indicating an actual phone call. Carlos answered before he could stop himself. “Hey is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, it was just a couple stitches,” T.K. said. His voice sounded off though, strained. Carlos immediately wondered if he was in pain or if something else was going on. “Look I—can we talk?”

He couldn’t. He was too exhausted after their first conversation and subsequent near death experience. “To be honest T.K., I’m not sure I can take being your emotional support right now,” Carlos said. “I really like you and I—I’m not sure I’m prepared to be just friends or something.”

Seriously. His heart couldn’t handle it. 

“No that’s not—I—“ T.K. paused for a second. “I think…this afternoon, I think I figured some things out.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, waiting. If T.K. wanted something from him he was going to have to come right out and say it.

“Is there any chance, I know this is asking a lot, but I was wondering if you could come by the station?” T.K. said, his voice shaky. “I just…this would be a lot easier in person.”

Yes! His mind and other parts of his anatomy screamed at him. Throw caution to the wind! Follow your heart! Who cares if it doesn’t last?  

He took a breath and steeled himself against the desire and lust coursing through his veins. “Listen, T.K., if you don’t want us to be a thing that’s fine. But I’m not really good with this on again, off again, friends with benefits things okay? That’s just not who I am,” Carlos said, his throat tight.

“No I—god I’m totally fucking this up I’m sorry. I really like you too Carlos. Like a lot. Like a scary amount of a lot.” T.K. took a breath. “I’ve been so afraid of…everything lately. Of losing my dad. Of messing things up. Of myself. And…I’ve been scared to be with you because I…” his voice caught, “I have really strong feelings for you. And I’m not sure I really deserve you but, I thought you should know, I don’t want to be just friends. I…I want to see what we are. What we could be.”

Oh. Oh shit. Carlos was glad he was already sitting down because suddenly he felt lightheaded, dizzy with the rush of emotions flooding through his body.  His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure T.K. could hear it through the phone. 

“Carlos?” T.K. asked and he realized he hadn’t said anything for too long.

“I’m here,” Carlos said.

“It’s okay if you’re not—if you just want to move on I get it.” T.K. sounded resigned now and Carlos scrambled to come up with words to reassure him.

“I don’t want to move on,” he said quickly. “You said you’re at the firehouse? “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

He’d never found it quite so difficult to follow the speed limit, but somehow he made it in one piece. The bays were open and he spotted T.K. talking with the rest of his team. He looked good. Lighter somehow. 

Their eyes met and Carlos felt all of the tension of the last fews weeks drain away as T.K. walked toward him. “I’m really glad you’re here,” T.K. said as they wrapped their arms around each other.

“Me too,” Carlos said.

“I’ve been such a dick,” T.K. said as he pulled back a little.

Carlos shook his head. “It’s been a rough couple weeks. I respect that you needed some time.” He swallowed and gently cradled T.K.’s face in his hand, thumb stroking his cheek. “Come on.” He took T.K.’s hand and began pulling him toward the car.

“Where are we going?”

Carlos just smiled. “Do you trust me?”

Within forty-five minutes they were out in the field. “Is this like, the make out spot? You bring all your dates out to an empty field like this?” T.K. asked as they parked.

Carlos smiled. “Actually I’ve never brought anyone out here.” He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d chosen to share this spot with T.K. In fact his stomach was fluttering with nerves about it and he’d almost turned the car around half a dozen times. 

“Well then I’m honored,” T.K. said with a grin. Then his eyes narrowed. “Unless you brought me out here to murder me in which case I am very not into that.”

“I’m a cop, T.K.”

“Which means you’re above murder?”

Carlos grinned. “It means that I would definitely get away with it.”

“Haha. Seriously though. What is this place?”

Carlos cleared his throat, butterflies in full effect. “It’s…a place I come to when I need to think. When I need to just…be. I thought after today, maybe we both needed that.”

T.K. nodded. “Yeah. I think we do.”

The sun was just beginning to sink, the sky ablaze with the end of the day as Carlos and T.K. settled on the car’s hood. Carlos caught a slight wince as T.K. tried to get comfortable. “You okay?” He suddenly realized that maybe T.K. was in pain and wanted to go home and get some rest rather than sit in a dusty cornfield. “Is your chest—“

“It’s fine,” T.K. assured him. “Just popped a couple stitches, nothing major. They fixed me up.”

“Are you sure? If you’d rather go home—“

T.K. took his hand. “Carlos I promise, this is where I want to be right now. Right here with you.”

They sat for a while in silence, eyes trained on the darkening horizon and then the stars that began to scatter themselves across the heavens. “Wow,” T.K. murmured, leaning back so he was lying on the hood of the car. “We don’t see stars like this in New York.”

“Texas definitely knows how to put on a show,” Carlos said.

“You know you didn’t tell me before on the phone,” T.K. said. “I mean I was kind of assuming from the way you dragged me out here to your secret spot that you were still into this. But I know I’ve kind of given you the runaround lately so—”

Carlos squeezed his hand. “Yes, T.K. I am definitely still into this. Into you.” He gave a sharp laugh. “I’m not sure I know how not to be into you. It’s…a little terrifying.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things. Terrifying isn’t usually one of them,” T.K. said, an amused expression on his face.

Carlos smiled and then his eyes grew serious. “I want things to be clear,” he said quietly. “I’m not asking for promises, or labels or something, I just…I want us to know where we stand with each other. I need to know where we stand with each other.”

T.K. nodded. “That’s totally fair.”

“So…”

“So I guess we’re…dating?” T.K. said. “Is that—are you okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Carlos said quickly. “Yes that’s…I can do dating.”

He wanted more, so much more, but he was willing to wait. To let T.K. come to him when he was comfortable. “I can definitely do dating. You’ve kind of gotten to me, Tyler Kennedy.”

T.K. wrinkled his nose. “Oh god. I really wish I hadn’t gotten arrested so you didn’t know that.”

“You don’t like your name?” Carlos asked.

“No, it’s what my mom calls me when I’m in trouble,” T.K. said. 

“How is she handling everything? I mean, first you move across the country, then you get shot…”

T.K. rolled his eyes. “She’s handling it the way she handles most things. Overwhelming concern and smothering with a heavy dose of threatened litigation. She’s called every day, both me and my dad, I’ve gotten about four thousand text messages, and I’m sure the minute she walks through the door I’ll be force fed something. She means well.”

“I know you and your dad are close, but you haven’t talked much about your mom,” Carlos said. “Do you miss her out here?”

T.K. took a breath and put a hand behind his head. “Yeah, of course I do. But I needed to leave New York. And she understood that.”

“I’d like to know,” Carlos said softly. “More about what happened in New York. Sometime. When you’re ready.”

T.K. blew out a breath. “That’s…a messy story.”

“I can handle messy.”

“God. How perfect are you exactly?” T.K. asked with a shaky laugh.

“I am very far from perfect,” Carlos said honestly. He interlocked his fingers with T.K.’s “But I guess being with you brings out the best in me.”

T.K. leaned forward and Carlos met him halfway, lips connecting in a sweet kiss. There was less urgency than with their previous kisses. This was a kiss they could linger in. One that whispered they were safe, they had time.

Carlos quickly found they were too far apart and reached for T.K.’s hip, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together. T.K. broke the kiss with a smile on his face. “I thought you didn’t bring people out here to make out.”

“What can I say? Sometimes I like to break the rules.” Carlos grinned before his lips sought T.K.’s once more. 

They laid there a long time, exploring, teasing, just being with one another as the northern lights shimmered in the sky above. After a while Carlos’ arm began to go numb and the chilly night air crept in. He felt T.K. shiver and reluctantly pulled away. “I should get you home,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Or…” T.K. said slowly.

Carlos raised his eyebrows. “Or?”

“Or we could spend the night at your place.”

Carlos felt something go tight within his lower belly. The thought of T.K. in his home, in his bed all night long…He shook his head. “Yeah I don’t really want to be responsible for ripping your stitches out again. Your dad would kill me.” “Well then we’ll just have to be careful,” T.K. said with a smirk.

Carlos laughed as he slid off the hood of the car. “I’m not sure careful is something you do very well. One of us has to be the responsible adult here. Come on.” He reached for T.K.’s hand and pulled him gently to the ground. “Besides. You coming over and spending the night seems like more of a boyfriend thing than a dating thing.”

T.K. stopped, a hand on the car door. “What if I want this to be a boyfriend thing?”

Carlos felt that tug in his lower belly again. “Then…I would want that too.”

“Okay.”

���Okay…?”

“Okay, let’s go to your place.” T.K. grinned and disappeared into the car.

Carlos sucked in a breath and sent a last look up at the stars before he slid into the driver’s seat. “Okay then. Let’s go.”

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #T.K. Strand #The Way Our Horizons Meet #Chapter 3 #911 LS #Sweet boys #So fluffy #Tarlos Fic

[dindjarinsleftboot]

Safe in your arms

Part three <3

*Teeny bit of blood and violence in this one*

Word count: 2.4k

You wake up in your usual spot. In Din’s arms, in hyperspace and the kid sound asleep in his hammock behind you. You wished these moments could last forever, but then Din is a bounty hunter and at the end of the day there is always a bad guy to be captured somewhere. Over the past few weeks, you’ve been to about seven different planets- each one unique with different foreign languages you’d never heard of, creatures of all shapes and sizes being dragged into the crest and then shoved into carbonite- each one with a different facial expression frozen onto their face. It excited and scared you all at once. You knew you were never in danger- especially when you have a Mandalorian standing close by whenever you ventured out into large buzzing cities. People all walking in different directions bumping shoulders as they walked. The kid would be strapped around Mando and his hand wrapped tightly around your waist pulling you close to him. Overhead thousands of airspeeders all flying in unison travelling to different places around the city. Neon lights would hang from the tall buildings towering over you, all different colours brightening the sky through the darkness. Even when you were just walking through small towns to get some more food and supplies, Mando’s hand would never leave you.

You hated him leaving you even more now and missed him so much when he was away- no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself. Whenever he returned to you, dirty and tired, all he wanted to do was cuddle up to you. Falling asleep in your arms as you slowly trace your fingers up his arms and back and press soft kisses onto his neck. A few times you had fallen asleep on his chest while he softly ran his fingers through your hair and whispered quietly with his rich unfiltered voice, telling how much he cares about you and how much you’re on his mind whenever he is gone. You assume he thought you were asleep and couldn’t actually hear him but that made it more heartfelt, and you treasured every last word he said.

You rolled over to kiss your mysterious lover good morning- is there even such thing as morning when you’re deep in hyperspace? He was already awake and propped up on one elbow while he laid on his side with his other hand pressed lightly on your waist.

“C’mere” You whispered still feeling half asleep. He laughed quietly then leant into you, whispering at your lips “Sleepy” before gently kissing you. Both snug under a blanket melting into one another as your noses brushed against each other’s cheeks. His hand still pressed against your waist tightening his grip slightly, and yours tangled in his hair, lightly scratching your nails against his scalp. You both cannot get enough of each other and you could honestly stay kissing him forever if you didn’t have to stop to breathe. Feeling him invading all your senses as he slides his hand around you and pulls you in closer, claiming him as yours. You could feel the heat radiating off your body onto his, your heart racing but your whole body relaxed as if you just melted at his touch. He rolled you onto your back and started to show you just how much he missed you when he was gone.

You sat in the cockpit with the baby in your arms, content as he played with his shiny ball- dropping it into your lap every now and then. You were out of hyperspace now and approaching a large planet with swirls of white and grey covering the dark surface. Din had told you earlier that you were headed to Corellia- the capital planet of the Corellian system- and that you’d be accompanying him for a while to get supplies. You always enjoyed leaving the crest for a while and exploring new places with him, it was thrilling and gave you a taste of adventure. You landed and made your way down into the hull behind Din. Watching as he strapped heavy armour to his body along with rifles and blasters. He hesitated for a moment before pulling a smaller blaster from the weapons cabinet and just holding it in his hands staring down at it. Your eyes flicked from the blaster to him, wondering what he was thinking. He then looked up at you “Take this” your eyes widened. Is he serious? You had never shot a blaster before. “This isn’t the safest planet and I want you to feel like you have protection when I’m not here.” You took the blaster from him and studied it. You knew the safety switch and the trigger and that’s about it. Point and shoot. Should be easy. Not that you will actually need to use it- you reassure yourself.

“Okay… urm- thank you.” You’re not really quite sure what to say but you gently smile at him and attach the blaster to your belt. He takes the kid from your hip and places him in the floating cot before closing it shut. You follow him down the ramp and into the foggy air.

It is humid on Corellia and you can feel the warm sticky air fill your lungs as you breathe. You’re walking for about hour, past old buildings and remains of statues. The streets you pass are dim and eery. In the distance you could hear animals snarling and wicked laughter echoing from alleyways. Lines of washing hang from window to window above you and a group of small children wearing dirty motheaten clothes, kicking a tin can around catch your eye ahead of you. When they spot you and your intimidating protector- they quickly disappear into the shadows. The sun being blocked by a thick layer of dark clouds above you, trapping the hot air. The humidity is making your hair frizz- you pull a hair tie from your wrist and quickly tie it up in a messy bun on top of your head, dropping pieces as you try to keep up with Mando’s long strides. You reach the city, plants starting to appear adding some colour to the grey outskirts you were just in and more people start to appear. The shops around you start to look slightly more well-kept and expensive, and the buildings get taller, and the place is suddenly buzzing with all different creatures. Din moves in closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist at it starts to get busier, he then turns into a dimly lit street where there are significantly fewer people. A shop selling the essentials is up ahead and you’re just about to step inside when a voice bellows out from behind you.

“Hey! Mando!” You both stop in your tracks. You glance across to Din who is still facing forwards.

“Oi! I’m talking to you.” The voice sounded deep and menacing and something about his tone made the blood run cold in your veins. Din eventually turned to face him; you turned your head to follow. A large Twi’lek coloured a deep purple started to walk towards you. A sinister grin plastered on his face and his hand was gripped tightly around a sharp blade. He stopped a few inches from Mando’s face and stared him up and down, trailing the knife along his chest plate.

“Qin.” Came through the modulator. Deep and harsh.

“You didn’t think you could leave me for dead and get away with it did you?” The Twi’lek said while laughing to himself and inching closer to Mando pointing the knife to his helmet as he spoke. His head suddenly turned to face you- making your heart sink to your stomach.

“Who’s this pretty little thing then?” The knife came to touch your face- you squinted your eyes shut and tried to turn away but before he could get close, Din was planting his boot firmly into his stomach sending the knife flying from Qin’s hand and stumbling back as he gasped out in pain. Din was walking sternly in front of him forcing him to step back further and further until he was up against a wall. He then pulled a gun out and held it up to Qin’s head in one swift move. You’d never seen him be so large and intimidating and that somehow made you even hotter for him- seeing how protective he was over you. Before you could catch your breath and calm your nerves, someone was behind you placing a firm hand over your mouth and pulling you back. You went numb. You wanted to scream and fight against his grip, but you were shackled by your own terror. Din quickly turned to see you and raised another blaster to the man behind you without hesitation. Your eyes glanced over to the crib and you were relieved that it was shut tightly, the baby was safe in there. Qin started to laugh again “Lower your blasters Mando. We have you outnumbered” His helmet looked up to see more men stationed on the roofs above you, all pointing a blaster at either you or Mando. The blaster pointing at Qin lowered before he turned to look at him and snapped “I like those odds.” Before Qin could respond, a dozen small missiles came flying from Mando’s wrist each one hitting one of the men- including the one holding you. You shut your eyes tightly as the grip around your mouth loosened and the sound of him hitting the ground jolted them open again. Mando was looking at you and you nodded to tell him you were okay. He turned back to Qin once again raising the blaster to his head and pulling the trigger. You turned you head away not wanting to see anything, the adrenaline still pumping through your body making your legs feel weak. Din quickly put his hand on your chin and tilted your face to the side. He then dropped his hands to your arms as he pulled you in tightly. “I-I’m so sorry.” He said shakily, sounding out of breath.

“I’m okay Din. Don’t apologise” you whispered against the cold chest plate, your breath fogging it up slightly. He quickly went back to looking at your face. “You’re bleeding.” What? You furrowed your brows and reached your own hand up to your face. Ouch. It stung when you touched your cheek and surely enough there was blood on your fingers. Qin must have managed to catch your cheek before getting thrown back. Din sighed and reached into the bag to get out a gauze. Slowly and carefully dabbing it over your wound- you tried not to squirm as the adrenaline wore of and the pain started to kick in but apparently you made it obvious because Din lifted his helmet above his chin and kissed your cheek tenderly.

“It’s not deep, the bleedings stopped, and it shouldn’t scar.” He sounded so soft and gentle it made you close your eyes and imagine you were cuddled up on the floor of the crest. “Come on, let’s go.” You take his hand and start walking back to the crest. When you reach the quiet suburbs, he opens up the crib to reveal the child sleeping soundly. Completely oblivious to the danger he was in moments ago. You take a deep breath and rest your head on Din’s arm as you walk together, holding him close to you.

He felt a knot in his stomach, the feeling of guilt and regret. He kept replaying the event in his head. What he could have done differently. He should have reacted sooner. He should have left her on the ship. What kind of life is he giving her? She deserves so much more than this. Sleeping on the floor. Going to dangerous planets and being couped up on his ship for a couple of days. She deserves a quiet life on a beautiful planet- full of happiness and content. Something he wished he could give her. Could he? He thought about how nice it would be to wake up in a serene place every morning and just be himself. Raise the kid with her and grow old together. He had never thought about a life outside of bounty hunting- but since meeting her his life had changed. She had already shown him so much without even trying and made him feel things he had never felt. She had shown him love, kindness and a purity that he didn’t even know existed. He was so in love and ready to give up everything he had known to make her happy.

Back safely on the crest, he dressed the cut on your cheek and kissed you one last time before heading off again. You always caught a glimpse of tan skin whenever he lifted the helmet to kiss you before he left. Showing you a tiny portion of his chin lightly covered in dark facial hair- giving you hints as to what he looks like under the helmet. You had parts of the puzzle - dark brown hair that flicked and curled up when it was messy. Facial hair lining a strong jawline and shading his soft lips that you knew so well, perfect tanned skin all over his body- which left you to put the rest together yourself. You felt he had brown eyes. The type that would glow different shades of golden and hazel under the sun. You bet they were soft but fearless, and if you ever got to look into them, you were worried that you’d never want to look away. People always romanticise the colour of eyes as if they were of some importance. Although you thought about his eyes almost every day- you knew they’d be beautiful no matter what colour they were. You wanted to know the finer details, like the shape his mouth makes when he’s trying to stifle a smile. Did his nose scrunch up and his eyes shut tight when he laughed? Did he have dimples in his cheeks when he smiled at you? So much you longed to know, but you were content with what you had so far. You watched him disappear into the darkness as the ramp closed. You’d never been so relieved to see a world shut away from your view. You turned to the kid, sitting in the crib and staring wide eyed up at you. You smiled down at him and lifted him up onto your hip before turning the radio on and singing quietly while he beamed up and coo’d along with you. Back in the only place where you felt safe when Din wasn’t with you.

#the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #mando x y/n #mando x you #mando x reader #grogu #the child #pedro pascal #fanfic #fandom #mando fluff

[octo-cutie]

Red Strings and Things

Prompt: You and your soulmate are connected by a red string on your pinkies which appears once you meet each other.

Summary: Tooru is concerned about the increasing number of his peers that have found their other half. After a brief meltdown, Tooru realizes that his string has become visible. Now the only question is who? And once he finds her, is it really his other half?

Pairing: POV Oikawa Tooru x f!Reader Genre: Fluff, little bit of angst,  a little toddler violence Warnings: Deliberate misspellings in the beginning because Oikawa and Iwaizumi where 6. Neither of them knew proper grammar and Iwaizumi had just lost his front tooth. Violence from Iwaizumi (Pushing, hitting, throwing things at Oikawa)

Side Note: I’ll be referring to Oikawa as Tooru because I’ll be referencing his mom and his sister a lot.

This is my contribution to the Soulmate AU Collab for Celestial Archives! I love love love this AU with all my heart and I secretly believe in the red string theory anyways....

It was his sister who had explained to him why the vermillion string was tied snugly around his left pinky finger. He hadn’t been older than 6 when she pulled him into her lap as she played with his hair one Sunday afternoon in the summer. There was a calming breeze in the air and the temperature that day was just right for blue popsicles in the sun.

“Everyone has one of these strings tied around their pinky finger that connects them to their soulmate.” She had said picking up his hand and holding it up against her own. Tooru looked at their hands (his were signifigantly stickier than hers) as his older sister held them together and saw the cotton fibers of his vermillion string slightly blowing and bending in the wind.

“Wahs a solmat?” He asked as popsicle dribbled down his chin. His sister was quick to wipe it up with a napkin as she explained it in a way only a 6 year old could understand.

“A soulmate Tooru, is the person who shares the other half of their popsicle with you. Except you’ll share a lot more than just a popsicle you silly goose.” She said giving him a sisterly squeeze.

“But we shared a pohsisle” He said with a pout. “Are you my solmat?”

“No Tooru I’m your sister. We shared a popsicle because there was only one left.” She said as she picked him up. Tooru curved his mouth into a large smile.

“Is it Iwa-chan?!”

“I don’t think so goose. If he was than you wouldn’t see your string anymore.”

“Oh.”

That night while everyone else was asleep, Tooru climbed out of his bed and made his way towards his school bookbag and dug out his crayons and paper. In his short span of 6 years he knew plenty of people and according to his sister this string wouldn’t disappear until he met his soulmate. So it wouldn’t hurt to make a list of people he knew.

It wasn’t his parents, or his sister, and it wasn’t Iwa-chan. It couldn’t be anyone in his class either or his teachers. But it was very difficult to count all the people he knew with only ten fingers. At his little desk he sat working in his notebook until his parents found him asleep with the glitter glue in his hair, and a marker surrounded by a puddle of drool.

Later that week Tooru and his best friend Iwaizumi Hajime were in the living room watching a kids television show. It was far too wet to go out and explore like they had originally wanted to but this show about trucks was incredibly captivating. As soon as the commercial break aired, two pairs of little feet flew down the hall towards the bathroom to relieve themselves after inhaling large glasses of lemonade.

“Hurry up dumb face! The thows gunna thart thoon!” Iwaizumi said through his lisp caused by his recently lost front tooth. Tooru blew a raspberry back at him as he washed his hands in the sink. Reaching over to turn the faucet off, Tooru noticed the vermillion string that was darker due to the water that had run through its fibers.

He carefully jumped off the stepstool and opened the door to a grumbling Iwaizumi who promptly dragged Tooru by the arm back to the pillow fort they had spanning the contents of the living room.

“Iwa-chan! Wait I have a question!” Tooru exclaimed as they climbed through the tunnel they had set up to make it seem more like the train station they watched on television.

“What ith it thoopid-head?”

“Don’t call me stupid! I have a question about your solmat string!” Tooru said with tears in his eyes. Iwaizumi was always his hot headed best friend but words hurt ok?

“What about it?” Iwaizumi asked situating himself on his stomach and munching on some of the crackers they had taken from the kitchen. Tooru began to fiddle with the knot at the base of his finger as he asked is question.

“Is it still there?”

“Of couthe it ith. Itths thill bright pink!” Iwaizumi said holding his pudgy toddler fist in the air as he stuffed his face with more crackers. Tooru couldn’t see it but then again only the individual or their soulmate could see it.

The conversation ended there as the colorful ads where now replaced with the post-commercial jingle which brought their eyes back to the screen. It was distracting from the difficult world of soulmates which continued to plague his mind.

It continued to bother him into the next couple months now that he was in first grade. He was part of the big kid group at school because he could tie his shoelaces and he knew how to read short chapter books. His handwriting, according to his teachers, was so similar to a girls that they had accidentally begun to call him Oikawa-chan like they had with his sister.

Iwaizumi had laughed at his predicament one to many times before Tooru pushed him out of his seat with a loud huff. The only thing it did was earn Tooru a spot in the corner during recess while Iwaizumi got to go play outside.

Instead of crying like he usually would, Tooru used this chance to think about the girls in his class. He knew most of them (if not by name then by some other part. Like cookie girl who gave everyone cookies when she had them) and he couldn’t recall seeing their strings. He’d gotten in trouble the other day when he swore on his Alien pajama set that he’d seen Izuna’s string and had tackled her to the ground only to realize that she had colored her nails red with a sharpie.

He’d spent a lot of time in the corner that day.

It was frustrating to Tooru that he couldn’t find his soulmate when it seemed like everyone else had. Though in reality his teacher had already explained to him multiple times that most soulmates don’t find each other right away.

“It just takes time. I still haven’t found mine and I’m 24.” She said with a bright smile. Tooru’s eyes bugged out of his head and he started to wail about how he’d never find them.

First grade was interesting in that aspect....

As the years progressed, Tooru slowly became less and less concerned with his soulmate and his string due to the increasing popularity that was coming his way. Once he’d entered middle school, he and the rest of his male counterparts had started to notice their female classmates as more than just friends. He’d even started up a relationship towards the end of his 3nd year in Junior High with a lovely girl named Sora who shared his love of volleyball.

His first love had been short and sweet. They had bonded together over volleyball, and spent their lunch times and weekends playing together or watching volleyball tournaments much to Iwaizumi’s chagrin. It wasn’t until the last week of school that Sora had come to him with large tears welled up in her eyes.

The tell tale sign of her now visible burgundy string only told Tooru what he’d known from the start. They weren’t soulmates.

Tooru had congratulated her with a large fake smile and given her his best as he headed off to practice. But he couldn’t help but feel the annoyance itching at his skin. It wasn’t fair! How had nearly two-thirds of his classmates already found their other half?!

Iwaizumi noticed the attitude that Tooru was throwing around the court that day. His warm up serves were more aggressive, he’d snapped at both the coaches and had been forced to sit out for an entire practice game due to his attitude. As he watched one of the first years, Kageyama, replace him as the setter for the last game his mood only worsened.

“If you hadn’t lost your shitty temper with the coaches you wouldn’t have had to sit out.” Iwaizumi grumbled as the two of them picked up the stray balls that had wandered away during practice in the now mostly empty gym. Tooru merely grunted and bent over to grab a ball at his feet.

Unfortunately another hand reached downwards too...

“Oikawa do you maybe think you could help me with my sets sometime?” An eager Kageyama asked as he wrung his fingers together. Tooru looked up from the ground with a darkened look in his eyes before lunging at the poor unsuspecting kid as a growl ripped through his throat.

“YOU GET OUT OF MY FACE! I WILL NOT BE REPLACED BY A-”

A terrified Kageyama was rescued from the hands of an angry Tooru by means of Iwaizumi who barreled the two of them into the wall. Kageyama took this chance to run off before he was attacked once more.

“SHITTYKAWA GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF!” Iwaizumi hollered into his friends face as he gripped Tooru’s shirt. Angry tears welled up in Tooru’s eyes as he pushed Iwaizumi away from him and buried his head in his arms as choked sobs left his body.

“I’m one of the only people who hasn’t found their soulmate.” Tooru choked out much to the chagrin of Iwaizumi who scoffed.

“Really?! This is what’s made you so shitty today?! Dammit I thought you had a real issue.” Iwaizumi growled as he threw more volleyballs into the carrier. Tooru wiped his eyes and looked at his bug loving friend.

“It is though Iwa-chan! It’s a real issue! Even you’ve met yours!” Tooru snapped pointing at Iwaizumi’s bubblegum pink strand that had appeared a little less than a month ago.

As much as Iwaizumi wanted to berate him for having unnecessary tears over something that everyone experienced in life, he sighed and found himself comforting his idiot friend instead.  

“It takes time shit-head. You’ll find them eventually.” was all he mustered before pulling the setter up from his crouched position and pulling him towards the gym storage room.

Iwaizumi pulled and pushed Tooru through the school and back towards their homes while the boy moped towards the sky. Iwaizumi pushed him up the steps and knocked on the door. A few moments later, Tooru’s mother opened the door.

“Oh hello- Tooru what’s the matter with you?” She asked pulling her son and Iwaizumi into the house. With a quick apology for intruding, both boys began to remove their shoes and Iwaizumi explained what had happened.

“Tooru you know well and true that finding your soulmate is more than a matter of waiting for them to show up. It also takes the maturity of the heart and the maturity of the mind. This is a perfect example of why you haven’t seen your string.” His mother scolded. Iwaizumi nodded along with every word that left his “auntie’s” mouth.

Tooru merely trudged upstairs and into his room with a huff and a harsh closing of his door.

His room was still dark from turning the light off before he left for school and his bed unmade from running out of time. Letting his backpack fall off his shoulder her slumped onto his bed and stared absentmindedly at his pinky finger.

He could see the vermillion strands bounce slightly with the pulse of his heartbeat underneath his skin.

His mother was right though, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Someone with his emotional maturity skills was bound to wait a long time for their string to appear.

Tooru’s mindset completely changed once they entered high school a few months later. His looks and his charming personality were a massive take with most of his peers and he quickly developed a fanbase that followed him everywhere. They packed the stands at the volleyball games and inflated his ego tenfold.

“With all these lovely fans of mine why bother with a soulmate?” Tooru announced at a study session with Iwaizumi and two other boys they’d met on the volleyball team, Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei.

“Fuck you and your fanbase.” Iwaizumi grunted as he kicked Tooru gently in the ribs while texting his girlfriend.

“Leave me alone Iwa-chan!” Tooru said with his dramatic ass laying on the ground. Matsukawa threw a piece of popcorn at his head.

“No he’s right. Your fanbase is obnoxious.”

“Not you too Mattsun!”

But Matsukawa was right in the sense that the obnoxiousness of

Tooru periodically began to date members of his fanbase here and there not really caring when they broke up with him due to him neglecting them for volleyball.

It wasn’t until his third year when his current girlfriend shrieked and smacked him in the arm that he realized his life had changed.

“You didn’t fucking tell me you found your soulmate already you jerk!” She snapped before running off in tears. Tooru blinked in complete confusion before looking down at his string. It still sat there visible to him but...

Wait-

“IWA-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!” Tooru shrieked as he sprinted across campus to find his best friend. The thudding of his heart beneath his ribcage only heightened with the belief that his string truly had been revealed and he was closer to finding his soulmate.

Unfortunately for Iwaizumi who had been having a rather romantic moment with his girlfriend, found himself groaning out of annoyance at Tooru’s loud and heavily breathy interruption.

“What the fuck do you want Shittykawa?! I’m kind of in the middle of something!” He called out not facing the trembling, hyperventilating figure of his friend. With a kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek he sent her off with a gentle love-tap on her forehead and a promise to see her later before dragging a babbling Tooru off.

“Ow ow! Let me go Iwa-chan! It’s important!!”

“It better fucking be you fucking cockblock.”

“Can you see my string?” Tooru blurted as he shoved his pinky finger into his friends face. Iwaizumi blinked before looking at his friends newly visible string.

“I- I can see it. This is what was so fucking important?!” Iwaizumi growled as he gripped Tooru’s wrist and crossed his arms. Tooru gaze burned with a fire that Iwaizumi only ever saw on the court when they were a singular point away from the winning one.

“It means I found them! I found them!” Tooru cried out in happiness cradling his hand and walking off with a lovelorn look on his face.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and texted his girlfriend to meet up with him again before lunch was over.

Tooru couldn’t concentrate the entire rest of the day. He stared absentmindedly at the string on his finger and spent the rest of his class doodling what he thought his soulmate looked like or what they should do for their first date.

His instagram now showed off to his friends and fans that he was infact on his way to finding his love and the texts bewteen his mother and sister about it only fueled his excitement. For his fanbase however, the sight of the string caused many girls and even some boys to hate the color of their own strings that now were clearly not a match to the vibrant vermillion color.

But the question everyone wanted to know was who had triggered the appearance of his string? And why had it taken them so long to find him?

Unfortunately for Tooru it seemed that although the universe had finally thrown him a bone, his search for his other half continued to plague his days in high school. His peers who had their strings exposed matched each other but not to his. For three years he focused solely on Volleyball and finding the other half of the red vermillion string that now dangled freely from his pinky finger.

“I don’t even know when it showed up! Kimi-chan just smacked me across the arm and I ran off to find Iwa!” Tooru exclaimed when yet another person asked him if he knew who it was.

No he didn’t. Yes he’d asked around. No he didn’t have any positive leads. The same three answers to the now most commonly asked questions that he heard aside from questions about volleyball.

The search only grew colder and colder as the end of the year grew closer and closer. With the loss to Karasuno at the Inter-high semi-finals eating at the strings of his heart, he threw himself into his studies and watched the match between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa with anger and resentment towards his former teammate and his rival Ushijima.

The loss of Shiratorizawa to Karasuno nearly made him smile after years of ridicule by the universe. To watch the miniscule look of despair cross through Ushijima’s usually stoic face alleviated some of the pain that he felt of not being on the court.

As he and Iwaizumi cleared out of the stadium he felt a sharp pain in his pinky finger, almost as if the string around his finger was tightening. Using his height to his advantage he whipped his head around to see a head of h/c hair walking away from him pulling at her right pinky finger....

That bore a familiar vermillion string.

“Excuse me! Please I need to get through!” He called out shoving people out of the way trying to reach the angel who had seemingly evaded him for years and years and years.

‘She’s here. She’s here. Just one more step. Faster! Get to her! Please!’ His brain screamed at him as he reached out for the elbow hidden beneath the Orange and Black of Karasuno Highschool. The contact of his hand with her elbow cause both of them to jolt with an extreme burst of energy causing her to turn around with her large e/c eyes looking at him with extreme awe. Swallowing slowly the girl looked at Tooru with stars in her eyes.

“Are you...”

“I think I am...”

Tooru moved his hand from her elbow to connect their hands finally joining the dangling parts of their strings together for the first time in a beautiful heart shaped knot. The vermillion color that had once nauseated him now amazed him as he tentatively wrapped his arms around the frame of his better half for the first time. Tears welled up in both sets of their eyes as they held each other tightly.

“I thought everyone was humoring me about my string.” She whispered as she inhaled through teary eyes. Tooru stroked his hand through her hair inhaling the slightly peachy scent mixed with a hint of cream.

“But you’re here now... I’ve found you after all these years. My name is Oikawa Tooru. I’m a third year at Aoba Johsai.”

“I’m L/N Y/N. I’m a second year at Karasuno High School.”

They finally separated and looked at each other with bright beaming smiles. Joining their hands together, Tooru led the girl out of the stadium with the premise of their first date of many to make up for the years they’d spent separated.

To Tooru, Y/N was truly his other half. Her personality complimented his in every aspect. He’d learned that her hobbies included watching volleyball, charcoal art, and babysitting her new baby brother. She’s allergic to pine nuts, and wanted to visit the Amazon Rainforest to sketch exotic animals before going to University for Primary School Education. She had tried out for the volleyball team but had to quit during her first year because her brother had been born.

He told her of his dreams to play volleyball on the professional level and about his nephew Takeru. He shared his fears and insecurities about the Karasuno volleyball team specifically Kageyama. He couldn’t stop himself from spilling information that even his closest friends didn’t know. It was like she already knew everything about him and like he knew everything about her.

As Tooru walked her to the bus station, Y/N asked for a photo together.

“I don’t want to wake up and find out it was a dream.” She confessed shyly as they exchanged numbers and waited for the bus. Tooru’s already fluttering heart increased as he held her warm hands in his.

“It’s not a dream. We’ve finally found each other and I will always be at the other end of this string. We may be separated now but we have our whole lives ahead of us. One day I’ll be playing professionally and I’ll have you by my side every step of the way.” He explained, “Of course if you’ll have me.”

“I will Tooru.” and with those words, she placed a lingering kiss on the swell of his cheekbone. It was natural for her and his response was a flavorful kiss on the forehead.

“A kiss on the lips is what we’ll get when we meet again.” Tooru murmured into her hairline. The sounds of the bus approaching pulled them apart and they separated once again, the knot coming undone.

The string had never felt so heavy on his finger now that they had left each other, Tooru thought as he walked home with a content smile on his face and his hands in his pocket.

A few years passed and the correspondence between the two was still flourishing as though they had only just met. Quick texts turned into hour long conversations and phone calls turned into falling asleep on facetime. When he was offered a position on the San Juan Men’s Volleyball team in Argentina he immediately went to visit a jewelry shop.

Tooru called Y/N and arranged for the two of them to meet at a fancy restaurant. The weight of the end of their strings lifted as they knotted together once more and Tooru announced the news that he was heading to San Juan.

“Before I go however, there is one thing I need to do. I want to marry you Y/N. We’ve only just found each other after years of being separated and it’s like I’ve finally been given a drink of the coldest water to soothe my aching body. You’re my other half. The better part of me. And I can’t let you go again.” Tooru confessed on one knee with the black padded ring box opened to show a perfectly carved ring with a tiny ruby heart.

A squeal and a thump confirmed his answer as those around in the restaurant watched the newly engaged couple hold each other tightly.

The wedding was set for later that winter before Tooru had to leave for Argentina. As they joined hands for the first time as a newly wedded couple, Tooru watched as the vermillion string turned bright gold.

As he danced with his new wife and held her close he whispered a tentative ‘I love you’ and forgave the universe for all the hardships he’d gone through.

After all, there’s always more to life than red strings and things...

________________________________________________________________

So I know that my contribution was added much later but I had experienced some personal issues and this laid dormant in my drafts for a while. Thank you to @elixhirs for the beautiful banner and to @toorusushijima​ for hosting the collab by @celestialarchiveshq

#cute octopus writing #soulmates #collab piece #tooru oikawa #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #fluff #light angst #waiting for love #red string theory #haikyuu!! #tooru oikawa x f!reader #oikawa x y/n #love

[swampofiniquity]

Warning Signs (Leon Kennedy x Reader

Part Two of Point / Counterpoint

Rated: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2,088

Cross-posted from AO3

Summary:  Leon calls you for a favor and your night devolves from there.

Part One

You hated driving through D.C.

It was always a nightmare of clueless tourists, reckless locals that had lost their regard for personal safety, and insane taxi driver’s that you swore must have all been taught by the same drunk asshole of a driver’s ed instructor. The lights never went your way, half the time a block or whole street would be closed for a parade or movie shoot or some other inconvenience. A couple of years of living in the city had taught you two things.

One - America needed to invest more in public transportation. And two - never try to drive anywhere in rush hour traffic.

The last of which meant Leon Kennedy owed you big time.

If any other human being had asked you to pick them up between the hours three and seven pm, you’d have laughed and given them directions to the nearest Metro station. People who you would otherwise not think twice about taking a bullet for either needed to wait until a more reasonable traffic hour, or find alternate transportation. But Leon was different.

While technically your superior at the DSO, he was also your best friend and a man that so rarely asked for help that his phone call asking you to come pick him up from the White House was practically the equivalent of spotting a unicorn running through the National Mall.

He had just gotten back from nearly two weeks of grueling back-to-back international peace summits with the president and apparently the pair had decided to celebrate their success by cracking open a bottle of executive bourbon. Now Leon needed someone with a high enough security clearance to come pick his exhausted, drunk ass up and take it the fuck home. You had the lucky distinction of being the first person he called.

And yeah, you kinda also owed him for watching your cat last time you had an out of country assignment. So, you hopped in the car, fully prepared to curse and rage your way through an infuriating hour or so of whiteknuckle fun.

Mercifully, Leon was waiting for you outside when you finally made it through the security gate. He was wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses you had never seen before, despite the sun having gone down at least an hour ago, and was leaning crookedly up against a wall like he was fighting gravity on a sinking ship. It was somehow both alarming and utterly hilarious. You couldn’t remember the last time you'd ever seen him so out of sorts and had to fight the urge to document the moment for posterity. Or blackmail.

You rolled the window down as you pulled up beside him. "Hey sailor," you sang, as he struggled to push himself upright. "Need a ride?"

"Why am I already regretting this?" Leon grumbled, his scratchy voice about a whole octave lower than normal. Despite clearly being wasted he managed to shove himself and his duffel bag into your car without incident.

"Oh please, you missed me and you know it." You flashed him a cheeky grin, that he subtly returned.

"That’s presumptuous." He fumbled with the seat-belt for a moment before finally managing to get the latch to click.

You leaned across the console and pinched the meat of his arm through his jacket in retaliation, before pulling him into the closest approximation of a hug you could manage with the seat-belt pulling you back. It had been more than a month since you'd been this close to the man and seeing him again, alive and whole, made your chest clench unexpectedly.

Leon hummed and returned the embrace, burying his face in your hair. He was so warm, but a shiver still went up your spine as you felt his breath on your neck. "Good to see you too, gorgeous."

It was something he had always called you, a leftover from the early days of your relationship when Leon tried relentlessly and futilely to seduce you into bed with him. Something you had heard more than enough times to render it practically meaningless. And normally, it wouldn't affect you in the slightest, but the fact that you were in his arms and could feel his words as clearly as you could hear them, made the pet name seem so much more intimate.

You cleared your throat and pulled back, praying you didn't come off as awkward as you suddenly felt. "Yeah, well uh good… let's get you home then."

_________________________________________________________

A dark, humid night had long since set in by the time you pulled up to Leon’s building just outside of the main metropolitan area and only about a ten minute walk from your own apartment. After a very graceful and coordinated trek up the three flights of stairs to his door, you used your key and let yourself in, stepping aside for Leon and his duffel bag to slink past.

“You want me to order you some food or something? That new pizza place down the street finally opened up while you were gone.” You flipped on his living room light just in time to see Leon go limp and flop face down on his couch.

He let out a dramatic groan and went still.

“You dead?” You asked, fighting back a smile. He hadn’t even bothered to kick his boots off, opting instead to rest them on a throw pillow like an animal. “After all that effort to pick you up across town and bring you back here...”

“Mmmmphm,” he grumbled into the cushion before turning his head so you could actually understand him. “Yeah, very dead, sorry.”

“What am I going to tell your boyfriend, the president?” You bent down and removed his shoes, tossing them vaguely towards the door before lifting his legs and taking a seat beneath them.

There was a lot of very dignified flailing and wriggling as Leon turned himself over onto his back to level a glare up at you. “Not boyfriends.”

This was one of the reasons why you loved drunk Leon. Normally, he’d barely acknowledge your stupid jokes and attempts at teasing, but give the man a few too many drinks and he became the perfect target for a little friendly ribbing. You couldn’t help yourself. “You’re right, I forgot he’s married. So that’d make you his side piece.”

A pillow grazed the top of your head as it soared past you. “Rude.”

“Sorry, work wife?”

Another pillow, this one aimed a little better, hit you in the shoulder and bounced off onto the floor. You laughed. “Hey, just because he is never going to leave her for you doesn’t mean you can just throw things at me!”

“I’m out of pillows anyway,” Leon responded. Then he raised one of the socked feet on your lap up, nearly touching your nose. You squealed and grabbed his ankle, trying to save your face, but despite your efforts you still caught a whiff of the not-so-pleasant aroma of a foot that had spent most of the day stuck in a boot during international travel.

“That is so gross.” You glared at his smirking face.

While you were distracted, Leon snuck his other foot up and managed to gently caress your cheek. Squealing again, you jerked away. “Oh I’m going to make you for real dead, Kennedy!”

He laughed as you slipped out from under his legs and snatched one the pillows he had thrown at you off the floor. You stood over him, just out of his reach. “Apologize,” you demanded, pillow raised threateningly.

“Ha, you first.” Leon sat up, folding his arms across his chest.

You cocked your arm back and brought the pillow down hard, aiming to hit him in the stomach, but even drunk Leon was too fast. He caught the pillow and jerked it back, bringing you toppling down onto his lap. At the last second, you managed to brace your hand on the back of the couch to avoid knocking foreheads.

“Careful now.” Two strong hands latched onto your hips to still your squirming as you tried to right yourself. “Watch your knees down there.”

Your skin felt flushed as you caught his meaning. “Sorry,” you muttered, feeling embarrassed around him in a way you hadn’t in years. You gingerly adjusted your knees that were dangerously close to his crotch and moved so they were on either side of his thighs.

And boy was that position just so much worse. You resisted the urge to hide your hot face in his neck. Your brain was working overtime, rationalizing that the only reason you were this affected by straddling your best friend had to be the current dry spell plaguing your love life. That was the only plausible explanation for the sudden awareness of all the places Leon’s body was in contact with your own.

“That’s better,” he said quietly, warm hands still firm on your hips.

The air suddenly felt heavy, thick like you were trapped under a woolen blanket in the summertime. You could practically hear the alarm bells going off. This was dangerous territory.

Fighting back panic, you lifted your head up to face him, fully intending to crack another stupid joke or make fun of him, anything to ease the tension that had fallen. But the look in his eyes made the words stick to your tongue like a carpet tack.

Leon slowly gathered a lock of your hair that had fallen into your face and tucked it behind your ear. His hand lingered on your neck. “Hey there.”

“Hi” you breathed, heart beating double time in your chest. You were frozen, completely unable to move even if you had wanted to.

“You’re so soft,” Leon’s voice rumbled out, as he ever so gently ran his hand across your neck and under your chin, the calluses on his fingers catching on your skin like fine grain sandpaper. Goosebumps erupted at his touch and you bit back a contented sigh.

“T-thanks,” you muttered, closing your eyes and tilting your head back as you let him explore your skin. It felt so good being touched so tenderly, so affectionately, that it didn’t matter who was behind it.

A gentle yet firm hand on the back of your neck brought you closer, the fingers tightening as Leon pressed his lips against yours. You shuddered, your body wound so tightly that you were afraid you’d snap at any moment. This was a bad idea for more reasons than you could count, but you were finding it impossible to care in the moment.

It wasn’t until the kiss deepened, when you parted your lips and tasted the bourbon on Leon’s tongue that you came to your senses. He was drunk and you were sober. What the hell was wrong with you?

You scrambled off his lap, feeling your stomach churn with shame and embarrassment. “Oh god.”

Your sudden movement must have jolted Leon back to some semblance of normal as well because he cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “I’m a drunken asshole. I am so sorry. ”

“No, I shouldn’t have-”

“But it was clearly my-”

You both started and trailed off, stewing for a long moment in your collective chagrin. Neither of you had a protocol for accidentally making out with your best friend. The only sound in the room was the distant droning of cicadas in the humid night outside before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Um maybe we forget this happened?” Your voice sounded so small to your own ears.

Leon perked up. “Yes, good. Nothing to talk about because it never happened.”

You nodded enthusiastically, trying not to let how quickly he latched onto the idea sting. You recommended it for fuck’s sake. “Exactly.”

Leon let out a huge breath and slumped back into the couch. “I either need another drink or to sleep for ten years. Or both.”

“Well, best of luck with that. I’m going to head out.” You made a show of patting your pockets for your car keys, still feeling horribly awkward.

Leon frowned, but otherwise didn’t move from his prone position. “Okay. Wanna catch lunch tomorrow?” He asked, finishing the question around a yawn.

“Yeah, call me.” Normally you would have hugged him or kissed his cheek, but the thought of getting in his personal space again made your skin feel too tight, so you settled on a halfhearted wave. “Goodnight, Leon.”

“Night gorgeous.”

You spent the whole ride home fighting the stupid grin that kept trying to creep onto your face.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil fanfic

[shreddedparchment]

Colocataire Pt.03

The Relationship

07/01/2019

Pairing: Thor x Reader x Steve     Word Count: 10,469

Masterpost     Warnings: Smut, threesome, smidge of angst, mostly fluff, language, polyamorous relationship

A/N: My hands hurt. lol I’ve been typing for hours. I went back and edited once but I’m going cross-eyed so maybe forgive me some editing mistakes? This is the last part to my @cametobuyplums ‘s writing challenge. I had so much fun exploring the way this plays out and where it ends. It ended and came together just as I wanted so I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

The sun is very bright. Blinding. Fucking annoying.

You shut your eyes against the glare of it and after struggling underneath something heavy, rush up, tossing your blanket aside as you stumble over the end of your bed.

Note to self: Install blackout blinds.

You shut the dark gray curtains. At least they shield out most of the light.

You groan, reaching to wipe at your face and head back to bed but give a squeak instead as your eyes find a long and very naked male form at the very center. Faced down. With wide, thick massive thighs and beautiful slightly whiter than the rest of his skin ass cheeks; hard, round muscles with the slightest concave on the outer sides.

You shut your eyes as the night flashes by in a flurry of lurid moans, salacious kisses, and dripping wet orgasms.

A nervous chuckle breaks your lips as you realize that last night you’d finally done it. You’d given in and though you might have been happy with a nice passionate kiss for your first romantic encounter with him, Thor had bedded you until the wee hours of the morning.

He’d first pounded you into the mattress, relentless in his desire for you and once the initial excitement of the FINALLY had worn off, he'd been softer. Tender. Emotional.

How many times had he whispered how much he loved you into your ear last night?

Your stomach flutters and with a bite to your bottom lip, you crawl back into bed.

The heavy thing you’d fought with to get up and out of bed had been his arm.

You trace its length from wrist to bicep and he hums under your touch. His long hair, still silky and flowing like golden waves on your pillow. It pools around him as he turns over onto his back to make room for you in his arms.

You settle beside him, resting on his chest as you press your own exposed breasts against his.

Sleepy eyes stare up at you. They twinkle, despite the exhaustion, with bliss.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“Morning.”

He stares into your eyes for a second before his own wander up to the rest of your head. His sleepy smile widens before he huffs and tries to choke back a chuckle.

“What?” You demand, but before you can reach up, his hands come up and then back down over your head to smooth your hair.

“I didn’t know this was what you look like right when you wake up.” He confesses.

“What? Is it really bad?!” You reach up again but Thor stops you and instead presses your arms in between his chest and yours and wraps his own around you.

He holds you tight, trapping you so that you can’t move.

“You’re beautiful.” He swears.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sizzle-cheeks.” You drag one finger from his temple to his cheeks as he leans towards you, straining his neck for a kiss.

You wiggle as much as you can towards him and give him your lips.

The soft moan that travels between you dies out slowly, then your stomach groans and gurgles.

Thor chuckles and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“Hungry?”

“A little.” You sigh, “We used up a lot of energy last night.”

“That we did.” Thor nods and then follows it up with a yawn.

You scratch the beard of his chin, give him a peck, then pull from his embrace.

“Sleep a little longer. I’ll go get breakfast started.” His hand holds onto you until you’re out of reach, eyes shutting as he watches you go.

You take the dusty pink robe from your armchair and leave the room tying the sash around your waist. You walk in happy, determined that nothing will tarnish your little slice of heaven with Thor but in the back of your mind, something reminds you that something is missing.

His face pops up, demanding acknowledgement and then you look up as you cross through the living room.

The kitchen isn’t empty. Steve stands with the milk in his hand, a bowl of dry cereal on the island counter.

The two of you stand frozen, staring at each other with a million things unsaid. You think of Thor’s words of how much Steve had wanted to stay with you last night but because of duty he’d run off to the party to do his part. His job.

His life is there, with them. With the Avengers. Maybe there isn’t any room for you in Steve’s life? Maybe Thor is the right choice?

As much as you wish you could keep it pure, your happiness is dampened by the slightest sadness. A yearning that still hasn’t been satisfied.

Steve.

“Morning.” You move to the fridge and grab the carton of eggs, determined not to fixate on Steve’s morning look.

Tight white t-shirt and a pair of black sleep pants, low slung, soft cotton to stroke for days. He’s a morning dream and part of you is still confused as to why they decided to come back here.

The mission is over. Why would he and Thor—well, you kinda get it but to live here with you still?

“G’morning.” He replies, voice still deep and gruff from just waking up.

“How was the party?” You ask, pulling a glass bowl from the cabinet over the sink.

You place it and the eggs, mushrooms, uncooked bacon and ham on the island. While you grab the cheese, Steve moves to organize your ingredients, like he always does.

“Boring, without you there.” He admits, and his words send your heart into a frenzy.

You stop to watch him and remember the many times before.

Whenever you’re up early enough to make them breakfast he’s always been there to help you. He puts it all just as you like it and then steps aside, his cereal bowl and milk forgotten.

You take up your station and Steve moves over a little closer.

“I’m sorry. I just—crowds and loud noises? I just couldn’t-”

“I know.” He assures you, reaching over with his hand to stroke the back of your bicep.

His touch sets your skin on fire and you have to focus extra hard on cracking your eggs. He turns around, leaning back against the island as he fiddles with his spoon.

You don’t want his touch to stop but he always pulls it away. Linger grazes that cut and sear all at once. You want more and more.

Give me more, Steve.

You wait. You want him to speak. To tell you what’s on his mind but you’re done with egg beating before he speaks again, and you wonder if maybe it’s just physical with you and Steve.

Even though Thor said that the two of them had agreed to keep their hands to themselves so as not to influence your choice between them, you and Thor have always been able to carry on conversation with ease.

With Steve things are always quieter. The air between you is heavy and you’re not sure if that means things are just that much more serious or that maybe you two aren’t compatible for a real relationship.

There’s no denying the charge between you. You want him. He…once wanted you.

You turn to take the bowl to the stove and put it aside as you cut the bacon and ham into smaller chunks. You cook them together in one pan, allowing the ham to soak up the bacon’s grease. The smell is heaven and you know Thor’ll be up and out of that bed soon because of the smell.

“I was talking to Tony last night.” Steve begins, putting the milk away but leaving the cereal on the island.

You glance at him, watch him shut the door as he stares at your face to see what expression his words might have wrought.

“Don’t you talk to him every day?” You tease, a small smile plays on your lips.

Steve’s face relaxes a little and he moves to stand by the counter beside you.

“He…” He stops, hesitating for some reason. “He told me about you. Things I didn’t know.”

Oh, that’s what he’s getting at. Of course.

“You mean the Red Room Academy? And how I was almost Nat 2.0?” You stir the sizzling meats and toss in the mushrooms.

“Yeah. How you were all set to be enrolled but his parents came and got you. Saved you.” He watches you, searching your face for any small inkling as to what you might be feeling.

“Howard and Maria were very generous with me.” You explain. “Howard and my grandma worked together, during the war. Maybe you knew her? She had my last name. Served in the intel office up until just after the war when she retired.”

Steve shakes his head, brow gathered with thought as he takes in your story.

“She wasn’t exactly in the thick of it, but she helped Howard out a lot and Peggy.” You stop this time, letting the name sit between you.

It does what you thought it would and Steve stiffens beside you.

“Peggy?” He asks, voice tight, sad. Why does it hurt to hear him react to her name? “My Peggy?”

It’s completely ridiculous that you’re jealous of a woman who is no longer living. Maybe it’s because she isn’t just a romantic rival but a powerful one. One that made change and affected the world around her.

You’re nothing but a pencil pusher. Working ads for some conglomerate. No one will ever know your name. You’re no one.

Also, ‘my Peggy'? It shouldn’t bother you but it does. You wanna be Steve's Y/N! Why can’t he fucking call you my Y/N? It stings, like acid. It burns away slowly at the composure you’ve become so good at having around him.

“Yeah.” You push a paper towel into a smaller bowl then dump the sautéed mushroom, ham, and bacon in. “The love of your life, right?”

He seems to come back from whatever memory he’s wandered into at your words, but you look away, unwilling to see what he might be feeling now. You start on the first omelet and watch as the egg hardens.

“Y/N…” Steve whispers, moving closer to you by the stove. You can feel the soft graze of his clothed chest on your shoulder.

He must see your hurt. His voice is so gentle.

Your heart aches, striving to understand the man beside you and what he might be thinking. What he wants. What he wishes for. What he’s still doing here despite the mission being over. Is it guilt because they left you here alone and you were buried in rubble?

Is that why he’s still here?

“So, anyway,” You press on, inhaling deep and exhaling as you speak. “When my parents passed away I moved in with my grandma but a year later she passed away and I’m honestly not even sure of the details myself but somehow KGB got their hands on me and before they could get me in that school Howard and Maria took custody.

“They put me up in a boarding school upstate and I never saw them again. I’d get letters. A gift on my birthday but I was alone really. I mean, I had friends, but I spent my holidays at school. They even paid for my college.” You smile, shaking your head a little as you think about the small trust fund that had long since run out that Howard and Maria had set up for you. Most of it had been your grandma’s money.

“That was nice of them.” Steve says.

“Honestly, I think I would have preferred they keep the money and invited me home on Christmas but…I guess that’s why I want a family of my own. Having lost so many people, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson but I want it. A husband. Kids. Someone who loves me and wants me.” You give him a wide smile and add some meat and cheese to the omelet you’re making before folding it in half so that it’ll seal.

“You want kids?” Steve asks, a small note of regret in his voice.

“I do.” You sigh and set your finished omelet aside. “Didn’t you?”

You hesitate because you don’t want to hear the answer and you don’t want to keep bringing her up but it’s so obvious that you wanting kids seems like a bad thing to him. A deal breaker maybe.

“With Peggy? Didn’t you want kids?” You look up at him this time, intent on seeing what’s in his eyes.

He stares at you, his storm blues full of restraint and confusion and sadness again.

“I-I didn’t think about it.” He lies.

You smile, laughing at his feeble attempt to hide it from you. Why does he care that you’re hurt by it? The fact that he wanted kids with Peggy but now thinks having kids with you wouldn’t be a good idea?

“You’re such a liar.” You tell him and work on the next omelet. “Why did you come back, Steve? The mission is over. You don’t have to live here anymore.”

He doesn’t answer. He lets you stew in the silence.

“It’s not like what happened is your fault. The Late-Night Bomber would have bombed the building regardless of whether you and Thor were living here. You don’t need you to feel bad about what happened.” You plate the omelets and move back to the island and set them in their spots on the other side.

Two are very large, one normal sized for yourself. This one you keep on your side of the island but it’s clear you mean for Thor and Steve to sit on the other side.

Steve follows, stopping beside you again, reaching out to take your hand on the counter.

“Y/N, I’m not here because I feel guilty. I moved in for the mission but I’m staying because I want to be here.” He confesses.

“Why?” You ask, desperate to hear him say the words.

You finally know how Thor feels. He’d just spent all night proving it to you, whispering it into your ear.

Why can’t Steve say it? Why can’t he lower his walls and just let you in? Those longing glances from across the room had been tantalizing but always brief.

The slip up in the bathroom, when he’d touched you and given in a little. Had it been too much to bear by then? What’s changed? Why won’t he touch you again?

His expression is pained as he stares into your eyes. His brow furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he starts to speak then changes his mind.

A minute passes and you give up. You shake your head, his storm blue eyes holding yours as the disappointment floods through you.

“You should eat your omelet before it gets cold.” You whisper, breathless and heartbroken.

You’d been so invested in your conversation with Steve that you hadn’t noticed Thor come in. He moves up behind you, wraps you up in his arms and leans down to kiss your neck.

Your heart soars and then drops as you think about Steve watching Thor kiss you.

“The food smells delicious.” Thor says, his lips still pressed against your skin.

He kisses up towards your chin and then reaches up to slide your hair back to get at your cheek. He uses one hand to turn your face towards him, forcing you to look into his electric blues and you’re grateful. As he places himself between you and Steve, using his large body to shield Steve from view, you’re truly grateful.

His soft expression and genuine happiness at seeing you soothes the ache in your chest.

He leans in and kisses you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss as he pulls you close. It feels needlessly enthusiastic. Almost as if he’s showing off. For Steve’s benefit maybe? You hadn’t thought Thor the type to throw things in people’s faces. Not this. Not the things that matter.

When he breaks the kiss, his lips smack loudly. He gives you one swift wiggle of his eyebrows before he deliberately slides away from you renewing your sight to Steve.

You don’t get to look at him long. Steve’s large body is pressing down on you. He leans down, hand cupping the back of your head as the other finds your hip, and firmly he presses his lips to yours.

You hear Thor chuckle somewhere to your left, eating his food probably.

That’s what he’d been doing? Coaxing Steve’s jealousy with his sloppy morning kiss?

Your heart is exploding with fireworks. Another FINALLY as Steve gives in.

Steve’s arm wraps around your waist as he slides his tongue along your lips to tease them open.

You shudder at his tenacity and obey, wrapping your arms around his neck as you push yourself up onto your toes to kiss him back eagerly.

Steve’s kiss is slow and churning. His tongue makes long strokes as he memorizes the way you feel pressed against him. Months of pent up emotion pour from his lips into yours and it leaves you gasping for air.

You pull away, to the side because you need to breathe in deep as Steve continues to kiss your chin, your neck. His right hand reaches up to slide your robe aside and kiss your bare shoulder.

That’s when he realizes that you’re naked underneath your robe because he pulls back, surprised. He looks you up and down, staring at your robed figure. Blinking with utter astonishment.

He glances over your shoulder at Thor who you look at too. He’s chewing through his smile. No. It’s a smirk. A challenge. For Steve and Steve alone.

He’s telling him, yes. I fucked her.

Steve’s furrowed gaze finds yours again.

His hands explore the length of your sides, feeling the soft fabric with eager fingers.

“Steve…” You start but a quick flash of his storm blue eyes shuts you up.

They are laced with lust, desire, yearning. Just like Thor’s had been last night. But the slightest bit of anger and regret too.

As he continues to stare at you, Steve’s eyes shift away from the lust. A glimmer shines through and you know in that moment that he owns you. There’s a claiming in Steve’s eyes. All the hesitation from before is gone.

He backs you up against the counter while his hand pulls your sash free. Your robe falls open and your ears burn at your sudden exposure.

With your hands gripping Steve’s forearms, you feel the muscles tense beneath your fingers as he squeezes your hips.

He stares at your nearly exposed chest before he lifts you so suddenly you whimper in surprise. He sits you on the counter and slides his hands along your shoulders, pushing your robe into a puddle around your hips.

Rough hands massage your breasts. He ducks down to nip at the perked pebble of your nipple.

You curl your toes, thighs pressed together to combat the growing slick of your core.

“Steve…” You plead and even you’re not sure what you’re begging for.

For release? For a reprieve from having him do this in front of Thor?

Despite his jealous anger, Steve’s touch is sweet and firm but loving.

He straightens up and then it happens so quickly. Almost like a dream too perfect to be real, you watch him push his pants down, exposing the long swell of his perfect pink cock. He places both hands on your knees and pries them apart.

Without giving you so much as a moment to prepare he’s pushing into you, nudging closer and closer and your legs further and further apart as he stretches your walls to fit him.

You gasp, your knees rising to make room for him. He doesn’t stop pushing into you until he’s right up against you. Chest to chest.

With his arms wrapped around you and you gasping for breath, he leans down and shoves his tongue into your mouth for a dirty wet kiss.

You moan and he moves his hips, pumping into you slowly as he finds his rhythm.

It’s maddening and you can’t think properly. All you can this is a resounding yes! Finally, you have him. He’s inside you, loving you the way you’ve wanted him to.

Does this mean he wants you in all the ways you want him? Or is it physical? Is it just lust?

Steve suddenly stops and you look at him for a reason.

The startled expression on his face gives you pause and you search for what’s bothering him.

Thor stands beside both of you, his hands hooked into the bottom hem of Steve’s shirt.

“Don’t stop.” Thor says, soft but stern.

Steve eyes him up and as Thor lifts his shirt, Steve raises his arms away from you so that Thor can expose his chiseled torso.

You need to help him. Help Thor show Steve that the three of you are together.

You quickly run your hands along Steve’s exposed muscle. You hum in appreciation for his strength and reach down to give his bottom a squeeze.

With him settled within you, not moving, it’s torture.

“Steve…” You beg.

He looks at you, intense and slightly confused gaze burning you up.

“Please…” You plead.

Thor leans in closer, his lips mere inches from Steve’s ear.

“Don’t make her wait.” He says, his electric blue gaze on you again.

He’s enjoying this. He likes watching Steve fuck you.

“Our girl likes it hard.” Thor tells him. “She likes it hard and full of fire. Show her how much we’ve wanted her.”

Steve pulls his hips back then rams them into you hard, shaking your body against his as he renews the closeness of his chest against your breasts.

You moan, startled by his pounding as he gets going again.

Thor leans towards you, fisting your hair to tilt your head back and towards him.

He kisses you hard, then soft. First lust. Then love.

He pulls away as you bounce on the counter with every thrust.

Steve’s grunts get louder, his hands are vices around your hips.

Thor gives your cheek one final caress before he heads for the hallway and you’re sad to see him go. You know however that he’s leaving for Steve’s sake.

Thor had you to himself. Steve deserves the same.

“You’re just as perfect as I thought you’d be.” Steve confesses, a grunt thrown in at the end as he slides his hands down to your ass to squeeze you closer.

You stare into his eyes, each shove of his cock rocking you closer towards insanity.

“Steve…” You moan, but he can hear the question.

“Yeah, baby, tell me. Tell me how you want it.”

No. That’s not it. “Are you gonna break my heart?”

His hips stutter and he stops, squeezing your ass again and again as if he can’t believe you’re really there.

He swallows hard, his breath uneven as the small drops of sweat around his temples finally cascade along his red overheated cheeks.

You can see the gears in his head turning. He’s thinking fast.

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, baby. I won’t break your heart.”

You blink, pushing your tears back because if it’s coming from him you must believe it.

“But you won’t give me babies. Or marry me. Right?”

“What? I-" Steve stops to think again, he watches your growing sorrow until his own expression hardens with determination.

“You want babies, I’ll give you babies.” Steve promises and he rams into you again.

He moves faster, harder, grinding into you roughly.

“I’m gonna fill you up with babies.” He grunts.

You throw your head back and he dips down to suckle at your neck.

He licks there, tasting the salt of your skin as he presses you back further.

He lays you down on the counter and settles over you, pressing down on you as he fucks you.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, tickling the soft hairs there as he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard. It hurts for a second before he’s licking circles, soothing the rough.

Everything with Thor and Steve seems to be rough first then soft.

As his pelvis slams into your clit, you feel the coaxing of your climax, a tight pull at your pelvis as he grinds against it.

“Yeah…yeah, Steve…” You mewl.

“Come for me, baby.” He groans. “M'gonna fill you up.”

He grips your shoulder and slams into you, crushing your nub until your body tenses and the explosion of release sends your body into shivers.

Your legs fall open as he continues to thrust into you, sloppy wet sounds of your orgasm filling the room.

You twitch beneath him, a shudder for every thrust that he pounds against your clit.

“Fuck.” He turns to bite into your neck and you cry out as his heat shoots into you and his hands bruise your skin.

Unlike Thor, Steve doesn’t collapse against you. Instead his hands roam the curves of your body. Squeezing your hip, your butt, your thigh, then back up to trace the curves of your side.

He worships your form, finally his.

The two of you bask in your climax for only a minute before Steve finds your lips in a slow, loving kiss.

“I love you.” He whispers against them, brushing them back and forth as he waits for your reply.

He needs to hear it like you did. His storm blue eyes flicker with want and so much love. Your jealousy just s few minutes ago seems silly and part if a different day.

“I love you, Steve. I’ve loved you for so long.” You gush and he’s already pumping into you again.

You gasp and he smothers you with kisses as he fills you up.

You shift on the sofa, adjusting your angle as you try and keep from pulling Thor’s hair. You’ve been braiding this one section for over an hour. You’re not happy with it. You hate it. You suck.

“I can’t get it right.” You whine.

Thor sits between your legs, watching TV. Animal Planet again.

“Look, there you are.” He teases, a laugh in his voice.

You glance up at the TV to see a baby gorilla climbing onto a larger female gorilla’s back. The baby is clearly playing but you understand what Thor’s saying with the way it clings to its mother’s back.

“That’s not me.” You half-laugh.

“Yes, it is.” Thor asserts. “You’re even grooming me.”

He leans his head back to look up at you.

“You’re my little monkey.”

The smile that stretches your lips is one you’ve grown accustomed to. You’re so ridiculously happy that you don’t remember the last time you smiled this much.

“That’s an ape. Not a monkey.” You counter.

Thor screws up his face, neglecting your nitpicking.

“You’re mine.” He reiterates.

Dropping his hair, you cup the sides of his face and lean forward to kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, and finally his lips.

He wraps his hand behind your head, keeping you in place so that he can give you one, two, three long pecks before releasing you.

“I’ve been thinking.” Thor begins, searching your eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I want to marry you.” He says it, just like that. As if he were thinking of buying a new brand of soap to try.

You blink, stomach in tumbles as you pull back to look at his full expression.

Thor looks as peaceful as ever. Sincere.

“Thor…”

“Not here, of course. There is a planet I know of that we might go and marry. A few of my people have made their home there and among them is a priest who will marry us. You will be my angel, forever.” He strokes his hand further into your hair as you continue to stare at him, dumbfounded.

When you say nothing, that pucker of worry between his brow folds and he lets you go so that he can get up and sit beside you.

“Say something, angel. I-Have I overstepped-?”

“No!” You gasp, reaching out to grab his hands. “No, Thor. I’m just, stunned. This is unexpected.”

“Is it? I would have thought you’d have known from the moment I kissed you that I wanted you to be my wife.” He scoots closer, wrapping his left arm around your waist.

This is good news. Happy news. So why are you apprehensive?

“Are you worried about Steve?” Thor wonders, reading you like a book.

“He’s so-”

“Possessive, yes I know.” Thor chuckles. “I’ve already talked to him.”

He begins to say something but then stops as he thinks better of whatever had been about to slip from his lips.

“He has given me his approval to marry you.” Thor assures you, a chuckle in his voice. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Steve has got his own plans. You are ours. And we aim to make you so in every way possible. Now, what do you say?”

He waits and when you say nothing, he pulls your hands up to kiss your knuckles.

“Will you marry me?” And he waits.

You catch your breath; the starling promise of forever with Thor before you. How can you say anything but, “Yes.”

Thor kisses you stupid. He kisses you until you can’t breathe and then he holds you tight.

The front door opens, a heavy click as it shuts. You hear his stomping feet before you see him as Thor seems unwilling to release you.

“Did you ask her?” Steve wonders, an excitement in his voice.

“I have. She’s said yes.” Thor replies gleefully.

He finally pulls back but only so that Steve can kiss you.

You use the opportunity to stare into his eyes. Searching for a true reaction in this make-believe happiness.

This has always felt like a dream on the vestiges of madness. Wishful thinking. A good dream you’ve trapped yourself in because the reality of your lonely life just isn’t enough.

Maybe you died? What if you were crushed in that rubble and the past three months with your boys has been a literal slice of heaven?

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m happy for you and Thor. I mean it.” He promises you, sincerity in his eyes but a small echo of that insecurity you’ve always had with Steve in particular reverberates in your mind.

It pulls dark thoughts forward that make you wonder if he’s happy that you’re marrying Thor because maybe he doesn’t want to marry you himself. What if Steve is grateful for the escape?

Does he not want you forever?

Did he use that wish on someone long ago?

His expression falls pained as he takes in the shift of your utter happiness to questioning apprehension.

“What is it?” He lowers himself down, squatting beside you and Thor as he holds your face between his large, calloused hands.

You don’t want to ruin this moment with Thor. You don’t want to make this about Steve when it should be about your future with Thor but…if you don’t speak it aloud, it’ll fester and bubble, then explode.

Fighting, real fighting where one person hurts the other, is not a part of your life with Steve and Thor. The three of you promised to talk everything through. This is complicated enough with three sets of desires, needs, and preferences. You don’t need to add lack of communication to that mess.

You lick your lips, chapped and dry from kissing Thor all day. Steve had been on mission and your day spent with Thor had been full of love making. They can’t seem to get enough of you…physically.

“I just…” You look at Thor and he’s smiling softly, not offended. Not sad. He gives you an encouraging nod.

You take his hand because you need his strength to speak the words out loud. What if Steve answers exactly as you’re expecting him to?

Thor gives your hand a squeeze. Reassuring you of his support.

“Are you happy about me and Thor because you-you don’t wanna marry me? Are you glad that he’s doing it so that you don’t have to?” Terror like this, even at the threat of bombs and bodily harm, has never existed for you.

Steve’s face relaxes, that boyish, half-smile lights up his face but only slightly assuages your fears.

“What? No. Of course I wanna marry you. You’re it for me, Y/N. Just like you are for Thor. I’m happy because we get to be happy forever. We get to keep you, forever. Together. I love you and I love Thor. Give me some time, baby and I’ll make you mine here on Earth too.” His words wash over you with a golden glory.

You’re warm and fuzzy with your boys here in front of you.

“Really?” You ask, elated.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “We’ll get you and Thor married first and I’ll find my time too. I’m not going anywhere. It’ll be me, you, and Thor until the very end.”

You kiss him, finally satisfied that Steve is in this for the long haul. Then you kiss Thor because you’re gonna marry him and you love them both so damn much.

Thor leaves you first.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He says, trying to cripple the utter agony you’re in.

You’re a mess. You’re in full on sobs as you cling to his chest plate with your weak and useless hands.

There is no strength in them to keep him here. Home. Where your husband belongs. You’ve been married for six months and this is the first time Thor is leaving you behind on Earth.

You’re terrified. What if something happens to him?

“I-I know you have to go.” You cry, pushing yourself up onto your toes to pull him down for another tight hug.

“I would not leave you if I did not have to. I will help win the war on Alfheim and when I come back, we will spend six days in bed and use the seventh to sleep.” He caresses the back of your head, using his words to try and comfort you but nothing will make this easier.

Nothing can ease your worries. It’s your job to worry as his wife.

“Wait for me, angel. I will return.” He whispers.

You pull back to stare into his eyes and give him the nod he needs. He pulls you to him, kissing you hard with his own startling urgency.

He’s worried about you too. Even if he knows you’re well looked after with Steve, being away from you isn’t easy and you realize this now.

He pulls back slowly, resting his forehead against your own until he must let you go.

“I love you.” He tells you as you back away slowly into Steve’s waiting arms.

“I love you.” You cry, tears still heavily streaming along your cheeks. “Please be safe for me, Thor.”

“I will.” He swears, his eyes move over you, above your head. “Take care of our girl, Steve. Keep her safe.”

“Always.” Steve assures him. “Come back soon, Thor. We’ll be waiting.”

That’s the first time Thor leaves you.

He comes back only a week later.

“You’re back!” You gush, leaping into his arms as he struts through your balcony doors.

He catches you and pulls your lips to his mouth. He groans as he kisses you, his bulge big and bursting.

The kiss quickly turns from relieving to lustful, all wet tongues and eager moans.

Steve stands, wide shoulders falling with relief at the sight of Thor back in one piece.

“You’re back so soon.” He says, an observance, not a complaint.

Thor pulls away from your kiss to speak as you continue to trail your own kisses along his jaw, hands wrapped in his long hair, tugging and pulling as you wrap your legs around his waist and grind down against him.

“I didn’t realize how hard it would be to stay away. I’ll have to go back tonight but I needed my princess.” He says, his hands roaming the curve of your back as you rut your hips against his.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” Steve says.

Thor begins to move towards the hallway. His destination? The bedroom of course. It’s been a week. He doesn’t remember the last time he went a whole week without having you.

“I’ll go to the gym. Sam’s been eager to get some sparring in. Give you two some time.” Steve offers and makes to move around your favorite armchair to grab his workout bag from the guest bedroom.

As he passes close to Thor, Thor grabs the front of his shirt and then drags him along as he walks.

“No.” He says. “Together.”

Thor tosses you on the bed, and he loves the way you bounce. He peels off his armor as Steve strips beside him.

Two large, bulky men stand before you. Their gazes loving, their cocks erect.

“Strip my wife.” Thor tells Steve and though Steve is used to giving the orders, he obeys because he wants to see you.

Steve is second in only that he hasn’t married you yet. As he peels off your shirt and shorts, exposing your perked breasts for him and Thor, he slides his hand down the length of your folds, playing with the slick as he spreads and primes you.

You can see it in his eyes as he presses one finger inside of you, that soon he’ll remedy that fact. You won’t only be Thor’s wife for long.

They take you together, Steve gets your engines revved up then he slides up to your mouth where you take his length in one long lick. You suck the head of his cock then reach up to push his tush, urging him to thrust into your mouth.

Thor climbs between your legs and buries himself to the hilt in one smooth slow motion.

Though it isn’t the first time that you’ve had Steve and Thor at the same time, in Thor’s absence, it begins to mean more. To have them both with you is a blessing. One you hope to repeat many times over.

Steve understands that Thor is the only one that’ll feel the clench of your core today. After a week, Steve would want you all to himself too.

Thor comes undone in every position he can get you in. He fills you up over and over while Steve makes a mess of your chest and fills your mouth.

The three of you collapse in bed, spent. Steve makes to leave, as he usually does when the three of you have been together.

“No.” Thor says, an almost panic in his voice. “No. Don’t leave us.”

Steve stares at the God of Thunder, reading the need in his eyes before he settles back into bed behind you. He cuddles up close, holds you tight, while Thor rests his forehead against your own and kisses the tip of your nose.

He mutters, “My princess.” Until he falls asleep.

When you wake up, Thor is gone again. You cry. You turn into Steve’s chest and he holds you tighter as you sob.

“He’ll be back, baby. He’ll stay safe.”

Thor is gone for a long time. After a month, Steve surprises you.

At breakfast, he gets up from his seat across the table and drops down on one knee beside you. You’re not expecting it and it makes you cry.

“Don’t cry, baby. I know it’s been hard without Thor, but I want to make you mine too. Forever. I said I needed time and I think it’s been long enough. I can’t stand you not being my wife anymore.”

“Oh, Steve.” You sob, reaching up to fix your nest of a hairdo. You look terrible. Just woken up.

But Steve’s eyes are full of nothing but love as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small blue box. He removes the top and holds out a white gold ring, solitaire, with a lone emerald cut diamond. You can tell by the sheen of the band that it’s vintage.

“Y/N? Will you marry me?”

“Of course, I will!” You gasp and throw yourself into his arms.

You and Steve get married at city hall. He wants to wait for Thor to come back before you have a real wedding and you’re grateful. As long as you’re his, that’s all that matters.

After your in-home honeymoon—because both you and Steve refuse to leave in case Thor comes back—Steve starts to take missions again.

He must. There’s no break for the criminals here on Earth and the world needs Captain America. You hate that he leaves you first for only a few hours but during the next month it becomes days. A week.

This time, three months since Thor left, Steve is gone for two weeks. You don’t know what goes on or why he’s gone so long but you know that it’s necessary.

You rush into his arms, cling to him as he walks through the door.

He’s exhausted. He kisses you.

“Too long, Steve.” You complain, sliding your hands through his freshly washed hair.

He always comes home clean for you though you kind of wish he’d come back in uniform. You know that he’s only trying to hide the extent of the danger he puts himself in.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” He wraps his left arm around you as he drops his bag by the door.

He’s got his shield in his right still and he plops it by your desk in the living room before hugging you with both arms now that they’re free. The way he cuddles into you, his tired sigh, burying his face into your neck, you know that he’s just dead on his feet.

“Let’s go get some sleep.” You whisper, sliding your fingers further into his hair to maybe nudge him towards unconsciousness.

Truth be told, you haven’t slept much either and all you want is to hold him and feel him there beside you.

You sleep for hours.

~~~~~

“How soon do we need to be there?” Steve can’t believe how fast they found the hideout.

It’s barely been twelve hours and he has to leave you again?

He turns to look at you, sitting in your armchair, a small lonely smile already stretching your lips. You must have heard him talking on the phone and wandered out to see what was happening.

You’re so quiet. So, understanding. Part of him wishes you’d throw a tantrum. Get really upset. You gentle whining at his absence doesn’t even begin to convey the depth of your solitude. He’s sure of it.

He knows how much you worry when he’s gone and how alone you can feel, especially with Thor still off world.

Turning back to the window he sighs, desperate to stay but duty calls.

“The sooner the better. Why? Am I interrupting?” Sam asks, careful in his tone because he knows how much Steve misses you when you’re not together.

“No. No, I just…hate to leave her so soon.” Steve confesses.

He’s already looking for his shield. He has a spare uniform in the jet. He can change on the way.

“I know, man. I’m sorry. We can go without you.” Sam offers and Steve almost accepts but his responsibilities to the innocents that are having their life threatened weight heavy on his shoulders.

His lonely wife weighs heavy on his heart.

He looks in the kitchen. By the desk where he usually puts it. Under the coffee table. And finally, in the dining room cabinet.

Nothing.

“No. No. I’m coming I just gotta find…Y/N? Baby, have you seen my shield?” Steve calls out as he shuts the cabinet.

“Yeah, it’s right here.” You tell him, voice sweet and soft.

He turns to look at you and nearly drops the phone as his jaw goes slack.

You stand at the mouth of the hallway, his shield held out in front of you, covering the sight of your clearly naked body.

“Steve?” Sam calls.

Your angelic smile shifts, turning devious and playful as you bite down on your lower lip. So beautiful. How long has it been since he’s seen that playful glimmer? Thor always brought that out in you more.

“Well?” You ask, “Aren’t you gonna come get it? Duty calls, right?”

Steve swallows hard, the stirring in his pants undeniable and unquenchable.

“Sam? I’m gonna have to sit this one out.”

“What’s wrong?” Sam wonders but Steve doesn’t care to answer as you spin his shield and give him the briefest of flashes of your naked right hip.

It’s a dizzying maneuver that sets his skin to burn. You know what you’re doing. Vixen.

“I gotta…gotta go. Be careful, Sam.” Steve murmurs.

He knows they’ll be safe. It’s a simple scouting mission.

You on the other hand, require hands on attention.

Steve struts towards you, mouth still hanging open at the seductive sight of you, fully exposed behind his red, white, and blue.

“Duty calls, Cap.” You remind him.

He reaches out and yanks the shield from your hands to look your naked body over. In the same move he wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you up, his lips crash against yours.

He moans into you, rolling your purr over his tongue as he drops his shield with a quickly silenced clatter and then takes you back to your room to perform his duty.

“I’m pregnant.” You gasp, staring down at the small white stick.

“What?!” Steve’s astounded voice comes in from the dining room.

You’re frozen, staring at the stick with shock. “I’m…I’m pregnant.”

You smile.

Steve barrels into the bathroom, his hands on your waist as he leans over your shoulder to look at the four different tests you’d taken.

You’d wanted to be sure. This is a big deal and you didn’t want to make any false exclamations.

“You’re pregnant.” Steve repeats, a startling amount of excitement and love in his voice.

“Is it-?” And you know what he’s wondering.

“I don’t know.” You sigh, sad suddenly at the possible daddy on the other side of the universe.

Steve turns you around, cups the sides of your face and leans down to kiss your lips softly. “We’ll go see a doctor tomorrow. We’ll find out.”

The next day, Steve sits beside you, a woman who looks too young to be a doctor slides over on her stool.

“Well, you’re gonna be parents.” She announces proudly.

“No, we know that.” You tell her. “When was the baby conceived?”

“Oh.” She seems surprised by the firm nature with which you’re addressing her, all happiness that usually comes from such an announcement absent.

You look at Steve and he gives you an encouraging smile as he takes your hand and squeezes it.

“It looks like, you’re about eighteen weeks gone.” She says, a smile on her lips again.

You run through the numbers as quickly as you can in your head.

“Eighteen weeks that…that’s four-four and a half months?” Your voice breaks at the last word, realizing with anguish that the baby is more than likely Thor’s.

“That’s about right.” She says, startled by the tears in your eyes.

“Steve…” You look for him and he’s not heartbroken at least. He’s not sad that the baby is probably not his.

He strokes your cheek and thumbs your tears away as they fall.

“This is good, right? Now we have a part of him here with us.” He explains, trying to spin this for the better but all you can think about is the fact that you haven’t heard from Thor in months and now you’ll be having his baby without him.

You sob and Steve pulls you close.

“I’ll give you two a moment.” The doctor says, completely confused.

When she’s gone, Steve pulls back to look into your eyes, instilling them with as much courage as he can.

“You’re going to be a mommy, Y/N. Thor’ll be back soon and we can celebrate. All three of us. Okay?” He asks gently.

“I miss him, so much.” You cry.

“I know, baby.” Steve sighs. “He’ll be back soon.”

The whistling of the air as he plummets to the ground fills him with such satisfaction.

His feet hit the slats of the balcony and the rainbow bridge melts around him as he walks to the sliding doors of his balcony. He opens them and slips inside.

“Hello?” He calls out, strong deep voice yearning for one particular pair of eyes, fit into an excruciatingly pretty face.

The storm blues are desired too. His partner in life along with his wife.

“Y/N?” Thor calls, searching desperately over the living room to see any signs of life.

There are a few dishes in the sink. Signs of lunch. A cup of tea left unfinished at the dining table. A pair of pants slung on your favorite armchair with a book you’ve been reading settled in against the back of the seat.

“Steve?” Thor calls.

“Thor?” Steve’s voice is like music. The deep timber of his voice, higher than normal at the glee he’s feeling.

He rounds the corner of the hallway and stops when he sees him.

The two men exchange a long look before Steve is crossing the room to pull him into a hug.

“You’re finally back.” Steve sighs, relieved. More than relieved. There’s something else there, but Thor can’t guess what it is. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Thor hugs him back, holding him tightly as his homesickness is marginally quelled. Only one person can cure it completely.

He pulls back, holding Steve at arm’s length to look into his eyes. “Where is she? Where’s my wife?”

Steve smiles. “My wife too, actually.”

The surprise that Thor feels as Steve holds up his left hand to show off his wedding band passes quickly.

“We wanted to wait for you to have a real wedding. A big one with everyone but with you gone, we both needed to do it.” Steve looks as if he’s waiting for reproach for his decision to finally marry you.

Thor only feels grateful. He’s happy for you and for Steve. “I’m so glad you finally did it.”

He knows just how much you’ve been wanting Steve to marry you.

“Now our family is complete.” Thor sighs.

Steve’s smile tilts, turning boyish. It’s that grin he gets when he teases you or he tries to keep a secret hidden.

“Speaking of family…” But he’s cut off as a small gasp from the mouth of the hallway turns both their gaze.

Thor’s heart leaps into his throat as he meets your eyes. Those eyes that never left his dreams. Eyes that pulled him through every moment that nearly took him from you.

“Thor?” You gasp, your hand fluttering by your chest.

“I’m here, princess. I’m home.” Thor coos, so eager to have you in his arms that he begins to move around Steve but watches as your hand moves down to rest against your extended belly.

~~~~~

Thor’s smile vanishes. He moves to you with an awed, disbelief on his face. All you want is for him to hold you and kiss you and make love to you, but this must come first.

You caress your tummy once more, stroking the little life growing within you.

“Are you-?” Thor asks.

Silly question. You laugh. “Yes.”

You laugh again and maybe it’s more the sound of your laugh that pulls him out of his shock because his face breaks into a smile as you laugh, and he suddenly leans down to kiss you.

“Mmm.” He whispers, a delicious hunger quenched as he tastes your lips.

It’s a quick kiss because it’s obvious that he wants to keep looking at your tummy.

He looks around and sees Steve already sitting on the far end of the couch. He steers you that way and sits you between them but turns you so that you’re facing him.

Steve sidles up behind you until your back is resting against his chest. He kisses the side of your head.

“Can I?” He asks, curious and eager to get a look at your belly.

“Of course.” You tell him and pull your t-shirt up so that he can look at your growing baby.

“Is it okay if I-?” He gestures with his hands, wanting to touch.

“Yes, Thor! Of course, you can.” You assure him, suddenly realizing that he doesn’t know. Of course, he doesn’t. How can he know? You haven’t told him. “This is your baby.”

“Mine?” He asks, surprised again as his hands rest on the sides of your belly.

You nod.

“We had the baby tested with a few of your samples that Bruce had in his lab. Y/N needed to know, and we were both hoping that the baby was yours.” Steve is so supportive. He’s so great.

You love him and you love Thor and, fuck! You’re crying again.

“Why are you crying?” Thor asks, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

“I cry all the damn time now.” You growl, then laugh.

Your laugh gets Steve to kiss your head again and Thor smiles wide.

“My baby.” He whispers, leaning down to press his lips to your bump.

“Our baby.” You add.

“Our baby.” Thor repeats, looking up at you then at Steve. “Our family.”

“Niki put your brother down.” You sigh, fumbling with the two large plates of waffles.

“Daddy says I pick up my bwudder. To halp mommy.” Niklas counters, his golden blonde hair is only slightly darker than your second baby’s.

Niklas has all his father’s strength, charm, and electric blue eyes. Stevie’s are storm blue.

“Not all the time, honey. Stevie is fine right now. Put him back in his highchair so that I can give you two breakfast. Or did you change your mind? Do you not want waffles for breakfast?” You stop beside the end of the table and wait for Niklas to put Stevie back in his seat.

“No mommy, I want da waffos.” He insists and hurries around to his own booster seat.

He climbs in and settles himself in it then reaches out to grab the table and literally drag himself closer to it.

He’s so strong.

Stevie giggles and babbles in his toddler speak. Drooling a little as he stares at his brother who you can already see is his hero.

Suddenly he screams loudly, yelling something at Niklas that you don’t understand because he’s not actually saying anything.

“Goodness, gracious, you’re both so talkative this morning.” You place Niklas’s waffles before him and drizzle them with syrup before you move over to Stevie, refasten the restraint around his waist and scoot him in towards the table.

You cut up his waffle into small tiny pieces big enough for him to grab but not choke on.

“Dank you, mommy.” Niklas whispers for some reason, then goes to cutting his waffle with his little fork.

You watch them eat for a moment, making sure they’re okay before hurrying back into the kitchen to bring them their sippy cups with milk.

Somewhere in between you pouring their milk and closing their cups, Niklas is on the table, laughing as Stevie screams again in that babbling high pitched instruction that only Niklas understands.

“Niki, get off of the table!” You gasp, and hurry back to the dining room with both cups still unsealed.

“Stevie wants me to dance, mommy! Wet me dance.” Niklas pleads and begins to swing his arms around enthusiastically to the music only he and his brother seem to hear.

Stevie is all giggles and excitement as he fists his waffle and throws the pieces at his brother.

“Baby, no.” You put the cups down and hurry to Stevie to stop his little hands from chucking his food.

A clatter pulls your gaze up to Niklas and you see spilled milk running down along the wooden table towards him and onto the floor.

You hurry to press a nearby towel against the wet as Niklas picks up his own waffle and proceeds to throw small pieces at Stevie, making him sticky with the syrup you’d drizzled.

“Niki, no.” You sigh, defeated because there’s no way you’re winning against these two.

You’re torn between stopping the flow of milk or grabbing Niki and putting him back on the floor.

Luckily, you’re save the choice as two large sun-kissed arms wrap themselves around Niki’s little torso.

He giggles as Thor growls at him, peppering his cheeks and neck with quick, scruffy kisses.

“What kind of terror are you causing your mother?” Thor asks, playfully, lovingly.

You sit down, relieved to see him and completely giving up on the milk. It goes everywhere.

Stevie is still screaming excitedly at the sight of Thor who rushes to the toddler and with a skilled hand, unbinds him and lifts him up into his other arm.

You stare at the three of them, exhausted but so happy. They’re your boys. Your babies. Your life.

“Look. Look at what you’ve done.” Thor asserts. “Niklas, look at the mess you’ve made for your mother. You too, Steven.”

Stevie smacks Thor’s cheeks as he babbles some more, while Niki actually assesses the damage.

He seems to realize that he’s really gone and done something bad because he looks chastised at first then his little lip quivers.

“I’m sowwy, mommy.” He cries and it just about breaks your heart.

You get up and move to him, wiping at his cheeks where he’s gone and splashed some milk.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay. But what have we talked about? What do we do at the table?”

“We sit.” He remembers, then looks up at Thor when he doesn’t seem to remember the second part.

Thor helps him cheat and he leans down to whisper into his ear as Stevie continues to pull on his beard and ear.

“And we eat aww food. We don’t pway wif it.” Niklas recites.

“That’s my good boy.” You tell him, fixing his little blue t-shirt as he relaxes and smiles.

“I’m sorry we were gone so long. We had every intention of being back before the boys woke up but-” Thor is already trying to explain his tardiness, to make up for the mess you now have to deal with.

“It’s okay Thor.” You understand how their job works. “They were fine up until five minutes ago.”

“Still. I’ll clean it up.” He offers.

“While they wreak havoc in another room?” You smile.

“Then, I’ll take them out to the park. Give you a few hours alone.” He counters.

That sounds extremely tempting.

Despite your anxiety from being away from your babies, you know they’ll be safe with Thor and you’re desperate to give the dining room a good clean now.

“How about two hours? Just enough time for me to clean this up and take a shower.” You slip your hand up along Thor’s side, then get distracted by Stevie’s little leg and hold that instead.

“Deal.” Thor agrees, then leans down towards you to meet your lips.

You kiss him, eager for the affection and Niklas giggles while Stevie’s little hand slides into your hair.

You catch his hand and kiss his little palm before leaning up to give Thor another kiss.

“Time for some adventuring, I think, my sons. What do you say?” Thor asks your boys.

Niklas gives a great shout of, “Yeah!” Accompanied by a small fist pump while Stevie simply screams in excitement.

You watch them until they’re out the door but as they pass, Steve slips in kissing Stevie’s cheek as he gives Niklas’s head a caress.

“-the park a few blocks down.” Thor says, informing Steve of his destination.

“If you need help, call me.” Steve offers.

“I am dad extraordinaire.” Thor brags. “Help?”

He laughs animatedly, all to make the boys laugh which they do.

Steve shuts the door as their beautiful giggles fade into the distant hallway.

“Oh, man.” Steve sighs, as he crosses into the dining room. “Niklas?”

“Egged on by Stevie.” You grab the soaked milk towel and try to push as much of the liquid back towards the center of the table so that it doesn’t keep spilling onto the floor.

Steve chuckles. “Next one will be calmer. I promise.”

“Next one?!” You turn to look at him, startled and laughing.

“What?” He asks, sliding over to you slowly as you try and back away.

With the table right behind you, you don’t get far. Steve’s hands are on your hips as you hold your milk dripping hands up and to the sides.

“You asked me for babies, remember? I’ve only given you one.” His stupid smile is seductive, his blue eyes piercing.

That look, that ownership you’d seen when he’d first made love to you, it heats you up. You are his. You know that. His and Thor’s.

“I wasn’t thinking straight.” You deadpan. “One is enough.”

Steve huffs a laugh, his hands sliding up into your shirt to trail circles against your skin.

“Come on, baby. I want a girl.”

“Then you have it.” You challenge.

He dips his head down to your neck and traces long slow circles with his tongue.

Your eyes shut, you sigh, your core clenching and searching for filling.

“Steve…” You plead.

“I’ll take less missions.” He whispers against your throat as his hand slides down into the waistband of your jeans.

He forces them down, exposing your bottom as he grabs it tight and shakes your dripping folds by proxy.

“Liar.” You accuse.

“I will.” He pulls back and look into your eyes, licking his lips as he takes his hand out of your pants.

He rests them on your waist and nods.

“I-I’ve been thinking about retiring.” He admits. “Sam’s pretty familiar with the way things go and Thor will probably still be there for them if they need him and I’m not saying I’ll drop out completely, but this life with you. This is what I’ve been looking for, Y/N.”

He means it. He’s really going to retire and help you raise your babies?

“You’re just trying to get into my pants.” You quip.

Steve smiles and nods. “Damn straight.”

He slumps down to wrap his arms around your waist and lift you up as his lips move against yours.

He turns and heads for the bedroom and you wrap your arms around him, milky hands be damned.

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[multifandom-oneshots]

Surprise

Summary: After secretly dating for a while, Roy has a surprise for Alexandra. This is what we’ve taken to calling FLUFFSTANG! It’s partially set in a city that only shows up in FMA2003 but it’s basically their version of Venice! And it’s for the wonderful Sunflower! I hope it meets your standards.

*If there are errors, I apologize it wasn’t proofread by anyone other than me. I posted it anyway because I felt bad it was taking so long.*

Word Count: 1322

Disclaimer! I do not own Full Metal Alchemist or its characters, but the words and ideas below are mine!

Filling out paperwork wasn’t Alexandra’s favorite task. Though she did it anyway, and she did it hastily. She was putting initials here and there, checking off certain tasks, and writing dull reports when two more pieces of paper were deposited on her desk. They were tossed down onto the paper she was currently writing on. She looked befuddled up at her boss, and secret lover, who placed them there.

“Train tickets, sir?”

The Colonel grinned, “Yeah, we’re going on a brief mission, you and I.”

Alexandra stood and gathered her things. This was a command and not one she’d question. Her peers eyed her jealously, she got to leave and not do paperwork. After walking into an empty hall, Alexandra had inquiries.

“Where are we going?”

Roy looked into her eyes and there was a glint of mischief in his, “That’s top secret. I will tell you, though, you need to change into something more casual… more inconspicuous. Do you have any dresses?”

His blonde underling’s eyebrows furrowed, “I might have one or two… but is a dress really practical?” 

“Absolutely, the shorter the better.”

Smack.

They arrived at Alexandra’s apartment and changed out of their uniforms. Roy only had a small collection of casual clothes in a single drawer to choose from. The lack of selection didn’t bother him, though. He was honestly happy to have a space dedicated to him in her home. She stepped into the room in a modest sundress. White sheer layers flowed down to just above her knees and the straps met in a V on her chest. Dark eyes stared causing her to feel self conscious and twirl the ends of her golden hair. 

“Is this ok?” she spoke up.

His breath hitched, “Yeah, that’s perfect. You look perfect.”

The woman blushed and looked at her feet. She wasn’t used to being admired in this way. A soldier is seen as strong, but for Roy’s eyes only she is soft. She’d never wanted to be seen as dainty or weak; she worked hard to become who she is with the rank she has. No one could question her resolve or fortitude, but she could have that unwavering respect and doe eyed admiration from Roy. They stood in silence for a few moments but Alexandra broke it.

“Roy, we’re gonna miss our train.”

He swoops up his jacket and holds the door, “Right, sorry. Let’s go…” he leans in and whispers as she passes him, “Lover.”

The train station was bustling and as busy as usual. The Colonel had a pair of obnoxious sunglasses perched on his nose. A disguise, he called it. He also insisted Alexandra wear an equally gaudy floppy sun hat. Though she didn’t know why he was taking such measures, she thought it was cute how intensely goofy he was acting. They held hands and stayed close among the crowd, but Alexandra was fed up with her accessory.

“Why do I have to wear this? It’s not even that sunny out. I can’t see anything!”

Roy pulled her hat down in front of her face as she tried to take it off.

“Hey! Roy, what’s the point of a disguise. Wouldn’t us walking around in our uniforms be more inconspicuous considering we wear them everyday?”

This time he stopped and looked at her blankly; well blankly from what she could tell, his glasses obscured half of his face. Internally he was cursing her because of her constant questions and logic against his plans. He proceeded to shush her and board the train. She followed him into their compartment and sat across from him. 

“You can take your hat off now.”

She had already done so before he finished his sentence. He chuckled at her eagerness.

“Sorry for all of the secrets, Alexandra. I think you’ll be happy when you find out though.” 

“This better be a hell of a mission,” she pouts.

The Colonel leans forward and plants a soft kiss on her frown, lightening her mood. “It will be.”

A comfortable silence settles in the cabin for most of their ride. Alexandra’s face lights up when she sees the view outside the window. She saw beautiful blue canals in the distance and ancient buildings connected by bridges and waterways. Aquroya: the city on water.

“Aquroya! Roy, is this where the mission is? This place is sinking, it’ll be gone in a few years. I’ve always wanted to see it. I thought I never would.”

Roy sat back and smiled as he watched his heart excitedly jabber and press herself against the window. “Yeah… the thing is that there isn’t really a mission here.”

The blonde looked away from the city and back to him dejectedly, “What?”

“There’s not a mission, Alexandra. It’s a date. Surprise!”

Her expression morphed from disappointment to pure bliss. This whole time he was being shady and odd, she thought it was simply a part of the job. Her secret lover had been planning a romantic getaway for the two of them. She swapped seats and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“You’re amazing. I love it, Roy.”

He put his arm around her, “I’m glad. I heard you telling Havoc you wanted to see the city before it sank. And I figured a nice lunch with a view, and a boat ride would be a nice first date. I know it’s a little late for a first date seeing as we’ve been together for a while... but with all the sneaking around we couldn’t really do it in Central City, huh?”

Alexandra melted hearing how much thought he put into this. Roy looked at his Lieutenant who was gazing up at him almost misty eyed and worried. 

“Hey, are you ok? Did I upset you?”

“No, of course not,” she touches his face, “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

He just smiled, “You deserve it, and you’re worth the effort.”

The train skidded to a halt and passengers exited their compartments along with the couple. Cheesy disguises were left behind. Because away from the city they were stationed they could be together unapologetically. Sunshine washed over the city, and reflections of the lovers in water smiled back at them. Hand in hand they explored the sinking wonder. They went to a cafe for lunch and ended their meal with a scone to share. Roy led them down to the canal to acquire a boat. When entering Alexandra nearly fell in, but the ever vigilant man caught her in time. They laughed about it and settled into the swaying canoe. 

“I hate that it can’t be like this all of the time,” he voices.

The golden haired beauty looked somber, “Me too. I’d love to be able to publicly claim Central City’s most eligible bachelor. But I have to keep dealing with my friends complaining that I’m too serious to get a man,” she laughed.

She caught him admiring her while she spoke.

“Why don’t we just stay here?”

“Stay here? In the Sinking City? I don’t know, Roy. We can’t quit our jobs… You’ll never be the Fuhrer if we give it all up.”

He looks disappointed in her answer, though he knows she speaks the truth. 

“You’re right. But I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be able to say I love you to anyone who will listen like Maes does. I want to be that annoying about you.”

Alexandra paused to process what he had just said, she didn’t think he even realized the weight of his words. The sun dipped nearly level with the horizon, the sky almost mirrored the colors of their first confessional. Pinks, golds, and violets painted the water’s surface as well as the sky. And he said he loved her. He loves her. Those were the only words she cared about in those moments. 

She said them back.

#FMA #fmab #Full Metal Alchemist #Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood #Roy Mustang #colonel roy mustang #anime #mf-oneshots #fma oneshot #one shot #short story #romance #fluff #fluffstang #Alexandra and Roy #secret #request #my sunflower #ocs #my oc #love u #hope you like it #Multifandom blog #multifandom imagines

[airsafariblog-blog]

Gold Rush Legacy & A Small Airplane, Summer 2017, Part I

It was not love at first sight. She was standing on the short cut grass in front of a one-story building and you could tell that she had been wandering the wild of the Canadian North for a very long time. I did not find much enthusiasm in her look at me either. And yet, toward the end of our two week romance, I called her Princess with all the passion of my heart. 

She was a Cessna 172, born in 1975. The paint was peeling off at places I did not even know existed on an airplane. But, as many bush pilots would be quick to point out-paint is only an added weight that keeps you from pushing more useful stuff, like fuel, food or game, to the inside (or sometimes on the outside of, for that matter) of an airplane.  What was lacking on the exterior was surely not made up for in the interior of the plane. To say her cabin was “ragged” would do a gross injustice to the term. Yet, what is vital for flying machine in the Canadian wilderness? The way it flies. And fly she did! Her aerial performance was impeccable. The propeller was squeaky clean, not even the tiniest chip, her climbing was fervent, mightily sucking on the air and, as I was later to find out, she was exceptionally humble when it came to drinking gasoline and oil. Princess was simply a marvel to fly and care for. 

Before I was given a chance to explore her fine features, I had to get past Eric, her proud owner and devour guardian (hence the name of Eric’s flying outfit - Guardian Angel). I arrived exhausted in Prince George, where Eric’s office was located, after some thirty hours of travel, shortly before midnight. The trip from Europe reminded me a lot of the famous opening scene of the Dead Man motion picture by Jim Jarmusch. 

Johnny Depp is heading West while observing in amazement how the nature of his fellow travelers transforms the further West he gets.

The flight from Munich to Toronto was filled with travelers carrying their flawless four-wheeled carry-ons, bags full of ethereal souvenirs, stunning fragrances and fashionable spirits, chatting delightfully on the board of a jazzy jet Boeing 777-300ER. People on the board of the less flashy Airbus A321 from Toronto to Vancouver seemed to be more down to Earth. The last leg from Vancouver to Prince George was to be flown over the jagged Pacific Coast Mountains by an eager turboprop Bombardier Q400. Climbing onboard I was bewildered by the composure and dignity that beamed through the coarseness of my new journey fellows. 

Our approach to Prince George began with a gentle dive into the clouds just as the sun began to sink beyond the horizon - an amazing sight. Before that, I had a nice chat with a girl sitting next to me. It was all about bears, wildlife, First Nation, the sparse yet sufficient pub landscape in Prince George, rising homelessness and drug abuse and we were both taken aback by the beauty of the sunset. 

Alas, my mind was not really there. It was deeply immersed in the thoughts about the undertaking that I had been dreaming about for the past three years and that seemed even more impossible now when it was about to begin. My original fancy was to rent a small airplane and to fly through Alaska. After quite some time it proved to be a no go. No one in Alaska was willing to let their precious machines being flown over some of the least hospitable and unforgiving places in the world, especially by some flat-landed European with zero mountain flying experience. It was nothing short of a miracle when we found our Guardian Angel, Eric’s flight school, operating out of Vanderhoof and Prince George (British Columbia) who actually considered lending us a Cessna, albeit “only” for flying in the Canadian, not the Alaskan, great wild.

In the months leading up to July 2017, I read all possible bush-flying and mountain-flying material I could find. I spent hours, days really, watching training videos and searching for the right articles. All these efforts helped me realize that mountain flying might be extremely rewarding, but you better stay away from it unless you have a lot of experience under your belt, which I did not. 

Let us hear an expert here. Fletcher Anderson wrote one of the most comprehensive books on the subject (Flying the Mountains, McGraw-Hill Education): “Even on the very best of days, it involves considerably more than just normal flying over exceptionally scenic terrain. The aircraft’s engine develops only a fraction of its rated horsepower at high altitude...because the air is thinner, the wing needs greater true airspeed to develop adequate lift. The pilot may also suffer from lack of available oxygen at altitudes lower than required to clear the mountains. Steep and high terrain is hard to fly over. Weather conditions, which exceeded the operating capabilities of most small aircrafts are frequent, normal occurrences, and weather can change dramatically in minutes. In addition to mountains, Alaska has the obvious extremes of vast distances and poor weather from the nearby oceans and no roads (therefore, a small airplane is 40 per cent more likely to crash in the mountains than anywhere else). According to the National Transportation Safety Board, the aviation death rate in mountain states is twice that of the nation as a whole”. 

What a chipper fellow.

Upon landing in Prince George, the cabin was filled with the smell of smoke from the distance wildfires across British Columbia - an eerie feeling. The city itself is a legacy of the sparse web of centuries-old trading posts of the North-West Company throughout the big northern void. Originally inhabited by First National people, proudly calling themselves “people of the confluence of two rivers” (Fraser and Nechako rivers, to be exact), Prince George of today is more of a confluence of roads connecting South British Columbia with North, Yukon and Alaska. Lonely Planet’s account of the city is not overwhelming flattering: “The downtown, no beauty-contest winner, is compact and has some good restaurants”. You also might want to know that there is a large paper mill that generates a very particular smell, which gives Prince George away for miles and miles. The smell is a neat aviation navigation beacon, as I was to learn the following year when flying through the dense wildfire smoke. I fell in love with the city instantly nevertheless. 

Eric greeted me at the small and tasteful terminal building of Prince George airport. I thought I might simply go to bed as it was close to midnight and I just flew halfway around the world. Well, I was wrong. Eric was in full swing and after being done with my car rental we headed to his office at the airport to do the proper paperwork before mountain flying training and rental checkout procedures could start the next morning. 

After I finally arrived at the Downtown Motel it was almost two in the morning. The motel did not try to conceal the fact that it is an affordable place to stay at. There was still quite a number of people hanging and wandering around the neighborhood with no apparent purpose, direction or place to stay. This was yet another signature feature of Prince George. In the next morning the next day, I got myself a large cup of cheap coffee at a gas station and was ready to get back to the airport. 

At Eric’s office, we started a very thorough ground training just as two helicopters lifted off from a helipad nearby. “It’s all over the radio. There is a small plane missing, that is what they are after”, uttered Eric laconically. Those books on mountain flying were not lying, apparently. You can get into trouble around here. 

No wonder my learning attention - which is usually not the strongest of my skills, whatever they may be - was laser-focused on every single word Eric shared with me. 

How to cross the mountain range safely, how to turn in a tight canyon, how to do an emergency landed where there is no emergency landing spot available, how to read wind direction from the aspen trees and lakes, how the eagle never dodges in the air for it is you who needs to make the move, how to avoid prop strike on soft and gravel airstrips or how the weather changes in ways you can never predict. 

In the afternoon, we took to the skies with one of Eric’s instructors. The first checkout flight was a rather serene affair - slow flights, steep turns, stalls, the usual stuff. 

Later that same day I was assigned another instructor - Alex, a cheerful character and a splendid pilot. We started working on my navigation skills and emergency landing procedures. I truly was not at my peak, owing this slightly to the jetlag and to the fact that I was flying in a completely foreign environment, but I muddled through. Over Fraser Lake, we had a conversation about the First Nation people in Canada, specifically around Prince George, which was when I first gave a deeper thought to their touching fate. Not that I had much time for these contemplations because Alex made me start training spins. 

 A spin is essentially a stall that results in a downward autorotation of the airplane usually when a pilot does not heed attention to the aircraft speed or bank angle (or, usually, both). 

To be able to recover from a spin is a crucial skill, even though one usually occurs during the initial or final phase of the flight when the airplane is slow and low and there is only limited, if any, space and time for a successful recovery. 

With Alex, we were flying high above the lake and our Cessna just refused to spin, so good an aerodynamic little airplane it is. Or, let me put it more correctly - I was unable to spine her. Thus, Alex took the helm and pitched her high, banked a hard right and kicked in enough of the left rudder and with an excited exclamation “spin, bitch, spin”, she reluctantly did what was asked of her. After that, I was also able to make her spin and recover, and with the jetlag still hanging around, I started to feel a bit dizzy. 

Yet, the training was far from over. Here comes the “graveyard spiral” part. Its name does not imply anything friendly - and it is not. A graveyard spiral is a dive that happens usually in bad visibility or at night when the pilot becomes disoriented and cannot see the horizon. Sadly, plenty of graveyard spirals are concluded with the airplane hitting the ground at a very high-speed with a very fatal outcome. What happens is that without the outside horizontal reference the pilot does not realize the airplane is banking and descending at the same time and pulls on the yoke in order to arrest the descent which only tightens the turn and, subsequently, the descent. We do not have to go into the details here, suffice to stay that the lesson is - always trust your instruments, not your gut feeling about your attitude and - more importantly - don’t ever get into a position that you have to deal with meteorological or visibility conditions that are beyond your abilities, training or rating. A year later, not too far from the very same spot we had trained to recover from the “graveyard spiral” I was to learn both of these points the hard way in the middle of choking and deliberating wildfire smoke. But we will get to that much, much later. 

What to look for in Part II?

Eric makes me turn in a tight canyon without looking outside the airplane. How to land on a logging trail in the wild. My crew arrives - how to stuff three adults and tons of equipment into a small airplane and still expect it to fly? First night in the North - Dease Lake, sea-plane trip at Atlin Lake. The madness of the Gold Rush. 

#adenvture #airsafari #travel #flying #canada #wild #aviation #thrill #theworld