Slut, 25, Donnie

ty blade tehe

<3

number 49 “well this is awkward” ! bkdk of course <4

YAY THANK YOU

am i about to write some cheesy 7 minutes in heaven one-shot? yes. yes, i am.

well- kind of

send me a pairing and a number and i'll write you a drabble

"W-WAIT MINA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Izuku panicked at his pink classmate trying profusely to shove him into his own closet, even a couple of his other classmates helping.

"SHUT UP AND GET IN THERE BROCCOLI." She replied, using her elbow to try and get him through the door now, still finding it difficult as hell. "HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"

"I DON'T KNOW- I'M SORRY! WHAT DID I DO?! WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO SHOVE ME IN HERE?! I'M SO SORRY PLEASE JUST TELL ME-" The greenette started begging at this point since he honestly was so confused about what was happening right now.

Mina had barged into his room along with Denki, Ochako, and a few other people a couple minutes ago. When he'd asked what they wanted, she just grabbed his arm and dragged him over to his closet without a response.

It took a few minutes and a lot of arguing, well more like arguing and profuse apologizing, before Ochako sighed and walked over to them. She simply used her quirk on Izuku to make him float, which surprised him enough to let go of the doorway.

"HOLD ON HOLD ON- CAN'T WE TALK ABOUT THIS?!" Izuku asked, trying one last time before he was floated into the closet with the door was slamming in his face as dropped to the floor. "URARAKA HOW COULD YOU?!"

"Sorry Deku! But it's for your own good- you'll see!" Ochako smiled from behind the door as she locked it and skipped away to go tell some of the boys to get the other thing they needed.

Mina giggled from behind the door before sighing, deciding she could at least explain to Izuku now. "Alright, alright! I'll explain." She took a deep breath, trying to find the best way to word this situation. "Basically- A few of us got bored, so we decided to play seven minutes in heaven! Except, we just put everyone in the building's names into a box and drew them two by two. And you and someone else got drawn! Simple as that!"

The greenette stayed silent for a bit as he stared at the door, seriously debating breaking it down at this point considering he was already red in the face after hearing what was going on.

"W-wha?! But I didn't agree to this! I don't want to kiss anyone Mina, let me out of here!" Honestly, that was probably one of the biggest lies he ever told. Of course, Izuku wanted to kiss SOMEONE. Specifically, a certain Bakugou Katsuki, but he'd given up on that ever happening a long time ago.

"That's a lie and we all know it!" Mina giggled again, starting to hear shouting from another floor which was a good sign of the other person already on their way. "Heh, cheer up! You'll be happy once you find out who the other guy is!"

"Happy?! I'M GONNA DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT- PLEASE LET ME OUT!" He groaned as he brought his knees up to his chest, trying to just roll into a ball and disappear.

It took a few minutes of waiting, though they felt more like hours, until Izuku finally heard the shouts and yells becoming increasingly louder. Izuku leaned over with his ear pressed to the door, trying to hear better, he suddenly recognized that voice- oh no.

The greenette quickly backed away from the door, hiding deep in the closet behind all his hanging clothes just in time to see the door swing open. In the doorway there stood a practically feral blond boy, being pushed by about three of his friends as they tried to get him through the door.

"GET OFF ME YOU LITTLE SHITS! I AM NOT FUCKING GOING IN THERE YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" Katsuki shouted as he had a practical death grip on the doorway, there was no way he was about to let himself get locked in that closet.

"Aw, bro com'n! Calm down you're gonna hurt Midoriya if you keep kicking like that!" Eijiro exclaimed with a laugh, still trying to push the loud boy through. "Denki! Come over here and help please?"

"You got it, dude!" Denki snickered as he hurried over and touched one of Katsuki's arms, giving him enough of a shock for him to let go of that side. The others, wasting no time at all, quickly shoved him into the closet with the door slamming shut and locking behind him.

"YOU FUCKERS! LET ME OUT OF HERE! I'M GOING TO EXPLODE THIS GODDAMN DOOR THEN YOU'RE ALL NEXT!" Katsuki continued shouting at the door, trying to get them to let him out considering he really didn't want to pay for a door.

Izuku watched this all happen from his corner in the closet, still trying to hide as much he could. Though, now that Katsuki was actually in there with him, he couldn't help but look up and stare. He let out a soft squeak at one point as the blond was about to give in to his urge to break the wall down, he really wanted a closet door.

The small noise made Katsuki stop in his tracks and turn around, just then remembering he wasn't alone in here. He took a deep breath before squatting down with a grunt, looking right at Izuku behind all the clothes. "Oi. Stop hidin' you coward."

The greenette shook his head quickly, pressing his back up against the wall as much he could while trying to hide his blush. "I'm not a coward! I just don't really want to die today thank you." He huffed, praying to god that Katsuki wouldn't come any closer.

Though of course, Izuku had terrible luck, and the blond decided to slowly move behind the clothes with him. Honestly, he didn't know why he was doing this, but Katsuki just knew he didn't want Izuku to hide from him. "You're not dyin'. You didn't do shit. THE BITCHES OUT THERE, HOWEVER, ARE." He grumbled as he sat next to Izuku and crossed his arms.

"I have no objections to that-" The greenette said with a small laugh. He soon heard a small snicker come from next to him, he looked over at Katsuki and to his surprise saw him..laughing? That'd never happened before- he actually made him laugh! Izuku grinned, extremely happy about that fact.

Katsuki laughed for a few seconds, not noticing Izuku staring until he turned his head. He raised an eyebrow at the other boy before rolling his eyes, already used to this by now. "Stop starin' at me, Deku. It's creepy as hell-"

"S-sorry Kacchan! I can't help it you're just so pretty..- AMAZING!" Izuku quickly caught himself, his deep blush returning once again as he nervously tried to laugh it off. "JUST PRETTY AMAZING HAHA!"

The blond gave him a suspicious look, already knowing what he was actually going to say. "Yeah..sure.." He looked at Izuku a bit before turning his head away and looking back at the door with a light blush. "I think you're pretty too."

Izuku stared blankly at the boy, blinking a few times and shaking his head to make sure he heard right. "You- you what?!" He questioned, still not believing Katsuki would say that to him.

"What, are you deaf?! I said I think you’re pretty too, you damned nerd!" He growled and turned his head back to Izuku with a more obvious blush, not as deep as Izuku’s but you could still tell it was there.

The green eyed boy stared for a while again, honestly not sure what to do with this information but he could already feel his face burning red. “..W-well this is awkward.."

"You’re the one makin' it awkward! For fuck's sake-" Katsuki quickly leaned in before Izuku wasted any more time, pressing his lips against the greenette's roughly. He gave a small smirk at hearing a whimper come from the other boy before said boy started kissing back almost desperately, like he thought he might never get this chance again so he was going to enjoy it.

The two heard squeals from behind the closet door, Katsuki mentally rolling his eyes as they silently ignored them and continued the kiss they both longed for since forever. Whether they wanted to admit it or not.

BTS Reaction To: Drunk Mafia BTS

Summary: your mafia boyfriend gets drunk and shows a different side to them.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, crack, alcohol consumption, mean!Namjoon, crying!Jungkook, mentions of sexual undertones, cute but annoying drunk Hoseok, mafia!au (but not really mentioned mafia), emotional Yoongi who needs readers love and reassurance, cute Jimin.

W.C.: 2.4k

Request: hi!! can you do a drunk bts mafia reaction?

Notes: Like I’ve said before, I love Mafia requests.

Jin:

You knew that you should not have left Jin alone with his brothers for thirty minutes.

You knew that leaving his side so you can go and talk to Jisoo about girl stuff, leaving Jin unattended with his brothers, especially the maknae when there is alcohol involved was a no-go. But you did it anyways, so now you are here – dealing with a flirty Jin who has one too many drinks in his system.

“You’re so pretty,” Seokjin cooed, body weight leaning into yours as you walked him to the car. “But!” He announced loudly, shocking you. “I haves a girlfriend, ACTUALLY! A fiancée. So, my compliments need to stop. I-It’s just that you look so much like her, that it is uncanny.” He rambled. “You even have the same, comfy, soft boobs! Are you her doppelganger?” Seokjin asked with a curious voice – a voice that does not suit his mafia boss persona.

Laughing at his question, “No, Jinnie, I’m Y/N. The actual her.” Mouth dropping wide in astonishment, “No way! Baby!” He yelled, flying into you, sending the both of you to the ground. But even in his drunken state, his reflexes still worked, and he turned you guys around to where he took the beating of the ground while you fell onto his chest. “Ooo, I like this position,” he said cheekily, smiling up at you.

“Of course, you do, you drunk.” You chuckled, “Now, get up. We need to get your drunk ass home.”

Yoongi:

The sound of breaking glass was what caught your attention from the book you were reading. Closing the book, you put it aside to see if the sound would repeat again, which it did. The breaking glass was coming from above you, which is where your boyfriend’s office was. Standing up, you quietly, but quickly, made your way up the stairs, slowly hearing the curses and angry words coming from your boyfriends’ mouth. Once you got to the office door, you quietly knocked on the door, silencing all of the commotion on the other side of the door.

The door opened, showing the distressed man in front of you. Trying to hide his tears, he turned around and made his way over to his desk, silently telling you that you can come in.

“Yoongi, what’s wrong?” You asked softly, walking up behind him, putting a few feet between you guys.

“Nothing. Why do you ask?” He replied, being short with you.

Spotting the bottle of whisky on his desk, you connected the dots that he is stressed since whisky is his escape drink.

“Well,” you started off, “There’s broken glass on the floor from you throwing it, whisky on the desk, and you’re obviously crying. So, something is wrong.”

“Wow, why would you ask me since you apparently know what’s going on.” He snapped, turning around to look at you, eyes blank.

Taking a few steps back, you coiled in on yourself by his harshness. Realizing that he wants you to leave him alone, you respected his wishes. “I’ll leave you alone then. I just wanted to check up on you.” You bowed, turning around and leaving.

Before you could walk out the door, you felt a soft grip on your arm, pulling you back.

“Please don’t leave.” Yoongi asked, voice raspy. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Not saying anything, you pulled your boyfriend into a hug. Your actions caused your boyfriend to breakdown, shocking you at the sight. The most dangerous man in the underworld, the one who scares the law itself, was falling apart in your arms for a reason you do not know.

Hoseok:

“And a BOOP!”

Trying to stay calm, you watched the finger – for the twentieth time – come in contact with your nose. Your eyebrow twitched from irritation. Surprisingly you were keeping your composure really well. You were not blowing up on your boyfriend yet.

But the thing that you do not get is how the man who can kill a person with a smile on his face, not even flinching, can act so childish and love messing with your nose whenever he is drunk.

It is like trying to figure out how many licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll.

“Your nose is so cute!” Hoseok squealed, face moving close to you, breaking your personal bubble boundary, “It has a little arch to it!” He added, a squeal evident in his tone.

That was a new one, you concluded.

“Can I run my finger over your nose?” He asked, voice innocent.

Releasing a sigh, a sigh that seemed to be very offensive that Hoseok took to heart. “Are you mad at me?” He sniffled, looking away to hide his face.

“No, Hobi.” You reassured softly, “I’m just getting a little irritated, but I am not mad at you, I promise.”

Sniffles growing louder, you realized that you messed up.

“I’M ANNOYING YOU?!”

Fuck.

Before you could say anything else, your body was met with the couch while your boyfriends body was thrown on top of yours. ‘I’m sorries’ were spewing out of his mouth rapidly, body shaking from the sobs racking over his body.

“Yes! You can run your finger over my nose.” You said, hoping it will calm him down.

As if a light switch was turned off, your boyfriend immediately stopped crying, a huge smile gracing his face. “Yay! Thank you!” His finger running over your nose, face morphed into a concentrated look.

Namjoon:

When you walked into your home, your sense of smell was met with alcohol – mainly whiskey and cigars.

“Oh no,” you whispered to yourself, preparing yourself for what was possibly going to happen.

Namjoon is drunk by now, and this only happens when he is overly stressed, or in need of an outlet for his anger. So, a drunk Namjoon equals an angry drunk Namjoon. You have only seen this side of him just once, and it was not pretty.

You did not speak to Namjoon for a week because of it.

He promised you he would not seek comfort from alcohol ever again – but he broke his promise.

Walking into the living room, you found your boyfriend sitting in the single sofa chair, the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone, showing the caramel skin of his chest. But his beautiful sight was ruined when you saw the whiskey bottle sitting on the side table with the cigar on the ash tray, and a glass of whiskey in his ring clad hand.

“I am surprised you have not started yelling yet,” Namjoon mocked, interrupting your train of thought. “Last time I drank, you freaked out on me.”

Taken aback by his words, “I didn’t freak out on you? Plus, I am not going to now. I am curious on why you are drinking, whiskey especially.”

“Oh, so am I not allowed to drink certain alcoholic drinks?” He asked, sarcasm and mockery laced in his words. “Wow, you’re more controlling than I thought.”

You could feel your heart break at his words, eyes stinging from the tears that are wanting to spill. “Wow. Um, okay.” You said, not knowing what words to use. You were beating yourself up mentally from how weak you are and your inability to stand up for yourself. So, choosing the cowardly way out, you turned around and made your way to the guess room that was in your house, locking the door and hiding yourself in there.

Jimin:

Sitting at the booth in the bar, you listened to your best friend Yoonji vent about her and Namjoon’s relationship.

Tonight, was club night with the boys.

Having a boyfriend who is a mafia boss that owns his own private club was awesome, especially during parties. Not having to pay and wait in line was awesome, drinks and food was free, and the best of all – sitting in the VIP section away from the drunk people.

“I just wish that he would make more time for me,” Yoonji stressed, eyes tearing up. “I feel so alone sometimes…” She trailed off, taking a gulp from his glass.

A frown was on your face, watching your friend cry was one of the worst things ever. Before you could add your opinion in, you felt a body that was all too familiar fall on top of you. A pair of lips attached theirs to yours, shocking you from the abruptness.

“My Love!” Your boyfriend announced, a drunken grin of his face, cheeks tinted red from the alcohol he has been drinking. “I have missed you so MUCH!” He stated, lips now turned downwards.

“I’ve missed you too, Jiminie.” You replied back, honesty laced in your words. “But, I’m talking with Yoonji here,” you motioned towards your friend, your boyfriends head whipping around quickly to look at her.

“Ooops! I’m sorry Yoonji!” He apologized truthfully, head turning back towards you. “Is it okay if I lay my head on your lap while you talk with Yoonji? My head hurts, and I PROMISE! I won’t speak of anything that you guys say to Namjoon!” He promised, sticking his pinky in the air towards you.

“Wait, what?” Yoonji asked in shock. “How do you know we are talking about Namjoon?”

“Cause silly! You just admitted to it,” Jimin giggled, already making himself comfortable on your lap. “Plus, the both of you came in upset, so it’s kinda obvious that you two are arguing.”

And that was the last thing your boyfriend said before he was lulled into a deep sleep.

Looking up at Yoonji, you gave her an apologetic smile. “Jimin’s extra blunt when he’s drunk?”

Taehyung:

As you conversed with your boyfriend’s gang members girlfriends, you could feel the heavy stare on your back from your boyfriend. You knew that you looked hot – thanks to the constant compliments and love that your boyfriend gives you everyday has helped with your self love. Wearing a sexy, but appropriate dress to the ball that was thrown by an ally mafia gang was a good idea because it was messing with your boyfriend. You knew the little things that riled up your boyfriend of three years – and this dress was one of them; especially when he had alcohol in his system.

“Um, Y/N?” Madison, Jungkook’s girlfriend of seven months spoke, catching your attention.  

“Hm?”

“Taehyung is I think glaring at you,” She said nervously.

Smiling at her innocence, “Oh, is he?” You asked, turning around to look at your boyfriend who just finished downing his glass of wine. When the two of you made eye contact you gave him a gentle smile and he winked at you. You could see that he has had a lot to drink due to the flush of his cheek and aura that he was giving off.

“He literally has been undressing you with his eyes all night.” Suri commented, bringing a blush to your cheeks from her bluntness.

“And you are right,” Taehyung admitted, surprising you from his sudden appearance. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, head ducking down to nuzzle into your neck. His breath smelt like alcohol and cigarettes as he pressed kisses to you neck. “You’ve looked so beautiful all night that I got turned on.”

“You’ve smoked a cigarette?!” You yelled, shocking the girls and Taehyung.

“What? No, baby—”

“Do not ‘baby’ me,” your voice came out deadly. “You told me you quit!” You accused, glaring at your boyfriend who looked scare, something that you will later laugh at since he is the biggest mafia boss in the world.

“I did. I just had two with Jackson and Namjoon!”

Not wanting to make a bigger scene, you walked away with a nervous and apologetic Taehyung.

“He’s totally not getting anything tonight,” Suri chuckled into his cup of wine.

“$20 he is,” Jisoo, Jimin’s friend had bet.

“You’re so on.”

Jungkook:

“Ugh, another fucking voicemail,” Jungkook grumbled drunkenly. “Y/N, this is my hundredth voicemail, when will you answer? Please answer. I’m sorry that I snapped and scared you. I know that I acted out irrationally during the argument. You’re right, I am childish and short tempered, but that doesn’t give me the excuse to say what I said and act how I acted. Wait? Did I say that right? hopefully because I want to make this right with you. I love you, Y/N, and I know that I have a suckish way of showing it, but I do. You’re the light in the darkness that I live in. never would I have thought of meeting you, meeting love in this Mafia world. I just want, need, you back, baby. Please come back to me,” Jungkook stopped, the sobs taking over him. The scary realization of losing you might be coming true. “Please give me one more chance to make this right.”

And with that, he hung up.

On the other side of the city, you listened to the voicemail that Jungkook had sent to you, tears streaming down your face and blurring your vision, your mind already being made up. Putting on a bra and shoes, you grabbed your purse and made your way to Jungkook’s mansion. When you pulled up, you were met with Phil and Leo at the gate. The two guards gave you smile, relief filling their eyes.

Walking into the mansion, you were met with a disastrous living room that had glass and frames on the carpet. A sigh escaped your lips as you realized that you had of fixing up to do.

“I am this drunk that I am imagining you standing right in front of me?” Jungkook asked, scaring your soul out of your body it felt like.

“It’s actually me, Kook.” You giggled, eyes tearing up at the relieved look in Jungkook’s eyes.

One minute his was on the stairs and the next he was squeezing you into his chest.

“You’re back,” he croaked. “Thank God, you’re back to me.”

Dreams

Hot. Moist. Sweat. It gushed off him while he twisted and turned under the sheets, barely awake and still under the spell of a teasing dream. A soft sound, in between a growl and a moan, managed to escape Shadow’s lips, even with his mouth as dry as a desert.

His eyes were half-lidded, continuously blinking at a rapid speed. He gasped, clasping his hands into the ball of fumbled sheets atop him as if longing to hold on to something. His sub-conscious mind started registering the stimulus of the cold on one of his legs that peeked out under the blanket. He tugged it back under the warm, somewhat clammy sheets and a inhaled with a series of grated breaths.

“Shit… This again?”

Shadow laid his head to rest on the pillow below him and stared at the ceiling in the dark. His spiky quills pressed into the cushion, the cool cotton fabric nicely fluffing against his skin. It wasn’t until recently that he noticed how everything seemed to be the same saturated colour in the dark.

Not until these dreams decided to wake me up at the same darn point every night.

He grunted. Not only did he want to fall asleep again, he yearned to dream on that one particular dream. Shadow wriggled once more, huddling in attempt to find a comfortable position to drift off again- fast. He shut his eyes and snuggled up to the pillow beside him in the bed. A muffled groan carried away from underneath it. He was already too awake, too aroused to glide back in his dream again.

Fuck!

The black hedgehog sat up straight in a bed that wasn’t his. Ever since Amy left town two days ago for her internship, he decided he’d sleep in hers, which he convinced himself was fine… She asked me to check in on her house sometimes and I know where her spare key is hidden. It’s not like I’m doing something wrong…

In the pockets of his black jacket was an unfinished joint and a lighter- almost empty, judging by its’ weight. He opened the window in her bedroom, lit the joint and inhaled the smoke. Shadow rested his elbows on the windowsill, picturing Amy’s reaction to him smoking this stuff inside her home. Undoubtedly she’d show that cute, irresistible, agitated blush spread across her cheeks.

It had been that particular look on her face that lit a romantic spark in him. He remembered scoffing himself for the very first time after tracing the slightest affection for her. She was his friend and it should’ve stayed like that. But it didn’t and he had a love-hate relationship with his feelings for her.

Part of him despised the lack of self-discipline that eventually allowed him to fall for her, but then again: who could not fall for Amy Rose?

The young woman was simply amazing; kind, brave, strong, gorgeous, honest and pure. Hanging out with her was never an obligation to him. Even if he acted indifferent in the past, it was a mere cover. He enjoyed being with her so much that the innocent one-sided crush he made himself believe it’d become, faded over time to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of… lovesickness? Lust?

Shadow had yet to come to terms with whatever stirred inside him- if he’d ever decide to stop lying to himself. He craved being with her, even if it was just as her friend. But friends didn’t look the way he looked at her, the way he saw her, the way his mind was toyed with by her.

And lately it had gotten much worse. A feeling of possessiveness grew inside him when she told him her plans for a yearlong internship overseas. Surely she’d meet new people, make new friends, go out and meet guys. Guys who’d eventually find an interest in her. Shadow feared he might lose his chance with her forever. And yet… he’d just let her go like it was no big deal, casually waving her off like Sonic had. Along with his sigh marihuana scented smoke escaped his lips.

He looked at his phone. Nothing. His inbox was unusually quiet after Amy briefly informed him she’d arrived at her destination. It made him restless and impatient.

“I can’t believe I’m just as stupid as that faker…”

That last part was what made it so ugly. Sonic had taken Amy for granted for over a decade. Shadow had gladly been her shoulder to cry on and often told her he couldn’t understand how poorly the blue blur treated her. And now he had sunk as low as his rival when what he really longed for was to make Amy his girl and walk beside her, showing her off, proud as a peacock.

He imagined pulling her into a passionate kiss, one that would weaken her knees, send shivers down her spine. One that made it loud and clear to everyone that she was his woman. Now that was a decent goodbye! He sighed once again. She should be his!

Shadow’s mind drifted off to the night before she left. Amy went home early from the farewell-party her friends had thrown her. She had excused herself by stating she wanted a good night of sleep before her journey the next day, but asked Shadow to hang out with her in the end. Just the two of them. He knew far too well she’d do that.

Something in the way she acted that night puzzled his mind. It had lit sparks of hope that she felt the same way about him. If he wasn’t mistaken, there’d been this tense atmosphere between them.

____________________________________

 “My turn! Shadow, can you hand me that?”

…

“Shadow?!”

Amy frantically gestured with her hands to make contact with a Shadow whose mind seemed to have drifted off. The introverted hedgehog got sucked into his own mind, quietly moping and pouting to himself in his thoughts about her departure.

Blinking when he finally noticed her, she was already so close to him that it startled him a little. Sucking off the tip of the joint he held between his fingers, he instantly stiffened up. Shaking a little as he watched her, he became helpless to the arousal from the image and the prickling heat that flushed through his body.

The girl looked up to him, colouring his cheeks in a deep red, her lips still enclosing the tip. He was quickly to shift his gaze away from her, feeling she’d see right through him if he stared at her any longer.

“Sorry. I was out of it for a bit.”

She didn’t take it from him. Instead Amy let out a muffled ‘U-huh’ and guided his hand to her lips again to have another pull of the joint. Without warning she tucked her arms behind him, pulling him into a hug and chuckled a delightful laughter.

“Cheer up! I’m gonna miss you too, you know?”

“Tsk, darn right, you will!”

Amy snorted at his silly reply and gave him a playful push.

“It’s the truth and you know it.”

Shadow raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, faking an arrogance that actually fit his personality quite well at times. Amy however saw straight through his act, aware that he found it difficult that she left. Despite everything they ended up being the best of friends and she was sure he’d feel lonely and bored without her.

“We can still catch up on the phone and stuff. It’s only for a year. It’ll be over before we know it. Besides, you’re gonna be busy too in the meantime. I’m so excited for you about the project you were tasked with. You always wanted to do this stuff, right?”

“Yeah, it’s something I’m looking forward to. I’ve always wanted to work with plants. I’ll get to investigate, plant and look after all these rare species the Central City’s botanical garden’s been given after the archaeologist department found this hidden, preserving millions of seeds.”

“A nice change of pace for you, after your last missions. Promise to show me around sometime when I’m back, okay?”

“Gladly.”

“Yay! Now… I need something sweet!” Amy said when a munchie kicked in. “But already I emptied my cabinets… Argh!”

“Wait here.”

Shadow jumped off the roof they sat on and walked up to his motorcycle. Amy watched him lift up the seat and grab something out the space hidden underneath it. He jumped up and pulled himself up on the gutter with two brown paper bags clenched between his teeth. A gleeful smile instantly spread across Amy’s face when she recognized the logo on them. He handed her one.

“I put another in your backpack for your trip tomorrow as well.”

“Aaah, you’re the best!”

Amy opened the bag and couldn’t fight the giddy, happy squeak that escaped her lips. All of her favourite candy from her #1 candy store in Spring Yard was in it, which wasn’t close to their hometown. Shadow must’ve gone out of his way to get this for her and he clearly put in some thought into picking out the confectionary in the paper bag. She happily stuffed her mouth with it and heard Shadow snicker beside her.

“You’re precious.” He chuckled at her.

“What? Oh! I probably look ridiculous.”

“I think it’s endearing.”

She quickly gulped it down and fake-shyly fidgeted, trying to compensate for what she thought was unladylike behaviour. In sudden confusion Amy scratched her quills. Since when did she care about that when she was with Shadow?

She then spotted Shadow unroll a liquorish-fruity roll, her absolute favourite. Tearing the paper bag as she searched for it in hers, her face soured, eye-lids dropping halfway down. She regretted she impulsively ate all the candy in three big bites.

“That’s what you get for eating them all at once.” Shadow said.

He shrugged and put the end of the now unrolled, spaghetti-like candy in his mouth with an amused expression. Amy turned around, bent over him and took a bite from the candy string, her grin turning as smug as his was before. Surprised by the pleasurable tension she experienced from being so close to him, she giggled her unease away.

There wasn’t much left of the candy string. To bite off that last piece, she practically had to kiss him. The thought spread a burning sensation through her chest. With Shadow’s heart jolting rapidly and the blood whizzing in his ears, he slowly sucked up the candy string into his mouth to see how she would react.

Don’t think too much of it. She’s just teasing me! Isn’t she? Shadow thought to himself.

Locking her jade eyes with his ruby ones, Amy leaned in a little closer. Shadow didn’t protest. Amy bit her lip for a second, but then enclosed her rosy lips around the other end of what was left of the short candy string.

He took in her flowery scent and felt her breath gently brush against his lips, their noses almost touching. His palms turned sweaty inside his gloves. Amy’s face was blazing, its’ heat radiating against his own.

He cupped his hands around her back ever so carefully, putting the smallest amount of pressure on them. Aghast and undecided Amy sat down on his lap, one hand on his chest, the other tracing the outlines of his lips.

Shadow decided to take the leap and leaned in a little closer to bite off the string when his phone loudly buzzed in his jacket, startling the hedgehogs. Amy squeaked and quickly slid off his lap, her face and ears coloured in a deep pink blush. Shadow awkwardly hid his face from her, grabbing his phone while he inaudibly cursed whoever ruined this moment for him.

Rouge: ‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’

What the-? How’d she even-? If she’s been spying on us, she will not hear the end of it!

 _______________________________

 After Rouge interrupted them, things became weird. They said their awkward goodbyes like they’d see each other again the next day. But they didn’t because she left for her internship and he went to pick a fight with Rouge. The bat was genuinely concerned about him and what it’d do to him if he and Amy kissed and she’d leave the next day for a whole year.

Even when Rouge meant well, Shadow had yet to comprehend how she’d caught onto his secret feelings for Amy and felt violated in his privacy. On top of that she should have minded her own business.

He put his joint and lighter on the windowsill and snuggled up in Amy’s bed again. With his crimson eyes slowly closing, he concentrated in good hopes the fantasy would sprang from his mind and reignite his dream.

Come on, come on… I’m at the station, where are you? You should be here!

He whispered aloud while Dream-Shadow skated towards the pedestrian-bridge that crossed over the train tracks at high speed. He jumped up the stairs, his heart wildly pounding in his chest, hurrying him forward, pushing everyone aside who blocked his way. The strangers always delayed him in so many, annoying, different ways and every time he was left no choice but to jump off the bridge as a shortcut to get to the platform in time. Although a part of him feared, a part of him knew, he’d be too late -again. A sea of unknown, irrelevant others were standing in his way. Why is it always this crowded?

‘Move! Out of my way!’

The pod had done its’ job and Shadow drifted off into a deep sleep. His gaze locked on to something in the distance, the familiar shape of the one he was after.

‘Wait!’

He clenched his teeth and sped up, screaming to the strangers to make room for him, but his cries fell on deaf ears once more. The empty voices of everyone out here muted his screams before they could reach her.

‘No! Not again! Please! I must…!’

Shadow never seemed to get closer to the train he tried to reach before it’d fare away, even when he was skating towards it at full speed. It drained him, sending stinging pains to his sides, but he never got to it. Like his feet were glued to the ground. Soundless, hoarse, growling cries leaving his throat as the train departed and the crowd suddenly vanished, like it had never been there to begin with.

‘WAAAAIT! YOU HAVE TO WAAAAIT!’

He never mastered control over the rotten feeling, even when he knew it always ended the same way. The fact that he didn’t make it, didn’t reach her, never was fast enough… It was mortifying for him. He was the fucking ultimate lifeform and he didn’t deliver.

He pounded his fists into a brick wall and growled like a beast. His muscles trembled from the impact as he watched the train disappear into the distance. The thought of chasing it tempted him for a second. He let the thought pass on and slid down against the wall, scouring his back to the raw structure and sharp chunks of stone in it. He bled, but didn’t bother. Shadow’s chaos energy always healed him so fast that hardly anything was an actual threat to the ebony hedgehog.

He let his dream counterpart stroll over the platform of the train empty station. It somehow was always empty at this point in the dream. The sun stood low, casting soft beams of light in magnificent deep oranges, reds and yellows, painting long, dark shadows behind objects blocking its’ reach. Shadow sank down on a black, metal bench on platform 3-b, its’ many thin metal lines pressing into his skin. He rested his head on his hand, curling up to a ball.

‘I’m so stupid! So DARN stupid! I should never have let you leave like that!’ He cried. ‘And now you’re gone! ARGH!’

The powerlessness and anger inside the black male came crashing out of him when a chaos sphere ignited from his hands. It destroyed the tracks with a shrieking bang, curling up its’ irons.

‘I thought you were different, Shadow.’ crawled up a voice from behind him.

Dream-Amy’s voice scared him wide awake. His muscles soured, adrenaline rushing through his veins, his breathing irregular and his phone buzzing under the pillow. The disappointed tone in her voice hurt him badly. He seized the phone with trembling hands.

Amy!

Suddenly only seeing her name on the screen made him scared as never before, but also strangely excited at the same time. Nausea sprung in his middle.

Amy: ‘U awake?’

Shadow: ‘Yes.’

An incoming call from Amy popped up on his screen. He swiped it to the right to pick up.

“Why are you still up? Tomorrow’s your first day, right?”

“I went out with some people from the dorm.”

“O-kay... Did you- did you have a good time?”

“Sure did. In fact a really cute guy asked me out. We’re going out Friday night.”

All right. He knew what this was really about. She was trying to make him jealous, trying to make him feel bad about the way they parted. And it was a totally justified thing to do, but her act revealed to him that she wanted him to care. Shadow’s muscles relaxed again and a confident smile curved his lips.

“Is that so? Did you tell him you secretly have feelings for someone else?”

“I’m not in love with Sonic anymore!”

“Who said I was talking about Sonic?”

…

Shadow was unable to fight the amusing feeling inside him from how baffled she was all of the sudden.

“Well- I-! I can’t believe you just let me go like that!”

“I’m sorry.”

Amy shrieked with a high pitched voice when she heard the acoustics of his apology twice. She turned around, the phone still held against her ear to see him standing in her dorm room. In one hand he held a chaos emerald and his phone in the other.

“What are you doing here?!”

“Confessing how much of an idiot I am.” He pouted.

“Go on.”

“It was highly indecent of me to let you go like that and I’m sorry.”

Part of him wanted to confess everything to her, take the leap and come clean, but he didn’t. The repeating dream that haunted him since she left had awakened a new fear in him: that she was only fooling around with him that night. It was yet to be proven irrational. He felt it was her turn to say something for this wasn’t a one way street.

“Thank you. It’s just… That night- I thought you cared about me.”

He sat down next to her.

“I do.” Way too much actually.

Shadow leaned in on her, resting his arms on her legs, his lips close to her ear. He closed her in between the wall behind her and himself in front of her only to whisper: “In fact, I don’t like that you’re going out with someone if that someone isn’t me.”

Amy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She tilted her head and unintentionally tightened her grip on Shadow’s chest fur. Her lashes softly tickled on his muzzle when she blinked. His musky scent and flirting intoxicated her senses. He levelled with her to catch her gaze, internally screaming from how hot she looked in what he realized was in fact one of his sweaters.

“Heh, here I only thought I had the hots for you, but it seems I was wrong.”

He pulled her closer by the cords of the sweater. Slowly he closed the remaining distance between them, softly pressing his lips against hers.

“So wrong!”

Amy smiled against his lips and straddled him, clamping his legs between her own, before passionately pouring into the kiss.

Chaos! I wanted this for so long!

_______________

AN: This one’s long! I decided to care less and just write and draw whatever I want, trying out new styles. Here goes...

Shadow and Amy are both adults here. Where I live smoking marihuana is tolerated.

Like always: send me a note for annoying typos, grammar mishaps etc. 

i DO actually wanna know how youd make kotor 3 !!!!!

this ask has been sitting on my inbox for so long on PURPOSE! i wanted some time to re read the revan book + watch some swtor gameplays so i could give a concrete answer about why the book and swtor arent satisfactory and what i would do instead (im not like. a storytelling god so i this is just my PERSONAL idea). under the cut!

to begin with, what's wrong with revan the book and swtor, mai?

i am very fond of swtor i think it was such a nice idea to have an "open" world game set in star wars old republic time. but ultimately, it was not a good conclusion to revan and meetra's storyline! now, i don't really know what happened in the development of the third kotor game (if there ever was a plan for one) but it's clear they dropped the ball on that and decided to start a whole different project. i don't think we can blame disney for that one, because it was announced on 2008, launched in 2011, and disney had just bought star wars that year. so who knows.

the thing is that it's painfully evident that a bunch of the story that was gonna be in the third game, ended up in the book + misc parts of swtor. much of the book feels like a gameplay.

now, it was clear when the book was planned that they wanted to keep revan's story open so when the game came out, they could have a cool Revan storyline so he could make a cool villain appearence and draw in some of that kotor nostalgia. which ehhhhhh. uh. i don't really think did any favors for revan's character. he didn't have a satisfactory arc (I'm not saying "a happy ending" because good arcs aren't always happy) but at least some closure?

revan went through many big events in his life. we didnt need to keep his ass in stasis for his fun villain moments 300 years later. we already had what we wanted from him: jedi turned sith turned jedi again to defeat a terrible threat. that was it we could have let it there and it would have been cool! but then they decided to drag and drag his story just to leave him right where he was before. he just suffered a little more in the in-between.

you could say he finally redeemed himself of all of his crimes this way, but wasn't that the whole purpose of the first kotor game (and would have been the purpose of the 3rd?)

swtor does not centre revan in his own narrative. he's a side character for the player to experience. and look, i get it, we've had a different protag on each game, why not have another one in this one. well, because the protagonist has no personal relationship with revan. meetra was one of his closest friends, and fought with him. there is a connection that can be exploited. but the swtor protagonist is just some guy 300 years in the future who happens to stumble into revan and his life. not even his descendants get to fully interact with revan.

also, there is the fact that revan is not the centre of the game itself, only of a particular storyline. and it's weird, because swtor could have happened without revan's involvement.

ms. meetra surik, ms. bastila shan, women of the world I'm sorry

so it's no news that star wars is misogynistic as fuck right. cause it is.

so you decide to make your gender neutral protagonist a guy. then you decide to make your other gender neutral protagonist a woman. cool. now let's guess who gets underdeveloped, turned into a plot device without reason, and promptly fridged in the most unceremoniously fashion just to fullfil some manpain moments. which one do you think got that treatment.

i know the revan book is supposed to be about revan, but why make meetra go through a whole arc just to undermine her character and turn her into the faithful servant of the guy? she leaves everything behind for him, sacrifices herself for him, hell not even dead is she not serving the guy. and she was the second game’s protagonist! she beat up a bunch of powerful people and now she’s just meh, there? she had so many interesting ways to interact with revan (meeting kreia, revan’s first master, encountering another force consuming entity, etc.)

meetra went through a whole arc about dealing with the guilt of doing something horrible and having the consequences of it cut her from the force. we see her broken, then slowly come back to the world and reconnect herself with the force, then stop running and face the consequences of her role in the war. thats such a cool character with tons of potential! and nothing happened!

then we got bastila who is. a whole deal. so you make her go through a “promising jedi who defeated revan, to questioning reluctant companion, to fell into the dark side, to was redeemed thanks to her bond to revan, who helped her come back because he’d been through the same experience” arc, and then you decide to push her to the side to have a baby?? which is... its clear that the writer didnt know what to do with her (or with the other characters outside of canderous) so hey, lets get her to marry revan and have a baby.

my ideal kotor 3

to preface, im not a game developer, so some of my choices could be stunted by what a kotor rpg can do lol. of course, it would follow the same mechanics and have the same format as the first two, because consistency!

the fun way to start the game, would be from scourge’s perspective. we get to play as a sith! i’d even say you get to change scourge’s name and gender and looks (i know sith have different looks)

in scourge’s storyline, we get from his arrival to normound kaas, to his talks with nissyris, to his missions working for her. in some of these, we can make scourge lean into the dark or the light side! fun! plus we get some exposition with dialogue options. it all continues untill we get to nissirys story about the emperor. we get a fucked up cutscene of his childhood and then BOOM when its over, we see revan waking up from a nightmare and their pov starts.

ok, as for revan’s story, since we’d have to pick it up from where kotor ended, i’d have a little cutscene of revan back into the ebon hawk, with bastila, and them telling the crew to take them to courascant. then cut to a council meeting where revan and bastila get scolded in private, then rewarded by the republic. i would also like to see some revan mournink malak’s death mayhaps. since he was their childhood friend and all.

i would 100% scrape the marriage and two years passed part. as the book said, the council had no use for revan aside from the legend(tm), so why would they stay in courascant. revan was very alienated from the jedi at that point, despite being back in the “light side”

then like, to revan asking around for meetra and other jedi from the mandalorian wars, we can cash in that atris cameo, then revan starts to have these visions about the sith emperor, and maybe we could get a playable dream sequence about revan’s fight with mandalore the ultimate (I KNOW I WOULD LIKE TO SEE IT.) and we get the whole exposition to mandalore telling revan that the sith are behind it all. i believe we should get a bunch of these flashback/dream sequences of revan’s past doing shit. cut to revan burying the mask in a planet, then back to the present. we see a bunch of mission and juhani scenes trying to reach him, but he keeps pushing them away. revan and bastila meet canderous, travel to the ice planet, meet clan ordo (god i love clan ordo) you get the whole quest, you decide weather to spare veela or not, maybe you get a cheeky mandalorian companion (force sensitive mando oh?) and leave canderous behind.

we can visit like, a couple more planets searching for clues maybe, etc. then when reaching nathema, you are forced to go alone as revan, get to explore nathema a bit (raiding ancient location yay) nathema as a location can be so fun because you can have it weaken you hp bar and also you cant use the force (which, in game is pretty cool)

then we get to scourge and nyssiris arriving to the planet, they fight but since theres two of them and revan doesn’t have the force, they beat the shit out of them, and while running away, they get in a fight with bastila and the companions in the ebon hawk (ebon hawk shooting game my hated). bastila manages to get a glimpse of revan’s thoughts before they take them away. but the ebon is so ruined it takes bastila, t3 and the mandalorian a while to fix it, and they get stuck into the unknown regions for a while. the ebon hawk is left in an outer rim planet with t3 fixing it, bastila and the mandalorian run back to the jedi council, only to get caught in the middle of the jedi civil war. we can have bastila choosing to hide in courascant and trying to make sense of what she saw, reading texts about the sith empire, trying to plot a course to where they took revan (more atris! but shes pissed at her now)

cutscene to meetra’s pov, leaving malachor v behind, getting calls from everyone at the hawk (atton my beloved) but just as she’s leaving she gets a force message from revan, calling for her to find him and sending visions of normound kaas. then, through her force bond with visas, she tells her not to go because they’re gay and in love and whatnot.

then boom, she gets intercepted by bastila’s ship, with the mandalore and the other mandalorian (yes i do love having a bunch of mandos on board) and they go on their way to find revan.

now i want there to be an underlying message of “we can’t take our friends with us because we have to do this ALONE we’re powerful JEDI we don’t need our FRIENDS.” meetra gets asked if she wants to bring any friends and she’s like “no. we have to do this alone.” along the game you get constantly contacted by other game characters, you get the chance to talk to them or ignore them.

so, we get back to nathema, and meetra has a whole “holy shit this is just like darth nihilus but ten times worse. but i beat darth nihilus. i can do this!” then she finds peace in this place without the force, we get a whole speech about how the odds arent against them, they find a way to normound kaas, and get going.

in normound kaas i thought about them getting a whole mission about how to infiltrate the citadel, only to get helped by scourge. he joins the party, we get a little flashback of all the years he spent trying to make revan remember and they storm the citadel. we get to fight the dark council members, fun! then we get to free revan and the game switches povs. bastila hands the mask to revan and he has a cool “yes im revan im pretty cool” then a nice heartfelt yet rushed reunion with everyone.

then have a small CONVERSATION WITH MEETRA where she talks about the sith triumvirate she defeated and revan is impressed with her and is like “we are the last hope of the jedi, we’ve learned to walk between light and dark, we’ve done horrors but we can still make things right, our experience has made us more powerful etc.

then they fight the imperial guard, ALL OF THEM, meetra revan and scourge make it into the throne room, they all fight the emperor. meetra shows the emperor that she has seen the void, she has cut herself from the force, and she’s not afraid of him, revan supports her, talks about redemption and hope  and NOW.

NOW. how the alternate endings could go:

if you decide to take scourge through the light side, he manages to form a forcebond with meetra and revan since they’ve both teached something about the duality of the force, they get 100% stronger, but its still not enough. UNTIL. a bunch of ships (jedi and mandalorian, even non republic ships) arrive to dormound kaas, the gangs from each game storm the room and together they make the emperor and his guard a bunch of punching bags. they beat him! (unknow to them, this was a backup body because the emperor can do weird shit like that, and has only debilitated his plan, but he’ll come back dont worry). then they fly back to the republic, to tell the chancellor about the sith threat, and preparations for the war begin. meetra and revan get to live happily ever after for a while, then they die away from the jedi or the sith (waaah im thinking about them helping canderous rebuild the mandalorians, and them doing it since they killed so many mandos in the war)

BECAUSE IN THE END KOTOR IS ABOUT LEARNING TO PROCESS TRAUMA AND RECOGNIZE YOUR MISTAKES AND LIVE WITH THE GUILT WHILST TRYING TO FIX THE MISTAKES YOU MADE ALONG THE WAY. AND ALSO TO HEAL FROM TRAUMA YOU NEED A SUPPORT SYSTEM SO EVEN THOUGH IT MAKES SENSE TO YOU YOU SHOULDNT PUSH PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU AWAY. AND THINGS AREN’T BLACK AND WHITE ITS COMPLICATED SO YOU DONT END UP BACK ON SQUARE ONE YOURE A CHANGED PERSON.

or

if you decide to dark side scourge further, he betrays revan and meetra, they all die, and the emperor unleashes his angry lightning or whatever on everyone + a bunch of visions of all the enemies of past mocking them, and their loved ones suffering. and since you’ve had that “im not calling my friends bullshit” no one comes, you die there, and the emperor is only stalled for a few years. swtor ensues. scourge becomes the emperor’s hand.

now you could of course bring revan and meetra up in swtor, but maybe only as force ghost guides, or have some of the other characters of the game have relevance (visas tries to heal the miraluka planet 2021)

WELL THAT WAS A LOT OF WORDS. HOPE THIS IS SATISFYING ENOUGH

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

NOTE: The MSBY boys have arrived!! I hope yall enjoy this update!

MASTERLIST

PREV | WFH 2 - THE VOLLEYBUDDIES | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106​ @kasandrafaye​ @veggytaled​ @svtbitch​ @stinkyobeymerat​ @hollypastl​ @differentballooncollection​ @o51oc​ @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper​ @kaisemieita @rizamendoza808 @tomo-uwu​ @sugardaddykenma​ @celinafeng @ravioliplease​ @thatpersonwithissues​ @humanbobjeanpants​ @suteorra​

~

“You want the usual [y/n]?” Osamu called from behind the counter.

“Sure…” You were still preoccupied with the table of people staring at you expectantly. They were all wearing black sweats except for one guy with glasses who was in a suit. Taking a closer look, you recognized the logo to be the same as the one on the sweater you were currently returning to Atsumu. You’d been awkwardly standing staring at them while they stared at you for what felt like a solid minute.

“Oh [y/n]! Didja just get here?”, Atsumu stepped out of the bathroom, breaking the awkward silence.

Before you could say anything, the glasses guy spoke up. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend Atsumu.”

WHAT? Where did this misunderstanding come from? Sure you had his sweater, but agh!!!

“I’m not his girlfriend”, you quickly shut it down.

“Riiiight.” This time a dude with spikey gray hair piped in. “So, how long have you and Tsum Tsum been together”

“I just told you we aren’t together”

“I get it. I get it.” Spikey hair guy winked.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think you do”

“Wow so cute! Atsumu’s so lucky.” A guy with bright orange hair chimed in. “Your secret’s safe with us [y/n]”

What the heck? Did they all have selective hearing?

“There is no secret! Atsumu, tell them!”, You turned to Atsumu, raising your eyebrows.

“What can I say? I can’t help being this charmin’”, Atsumu held up his hands innocently.

“Oh shut up lemon head”, you sharply snapped.

The whole restaurant burst out laughing at that. Even the guy in a mask who'd been pretty quiet was chuckling. You quickly went around and did some introductions.

“If you aren’t dating, how do you know each other?”, the glasses guy, Akaashi, asked.

“A series of unfortunate encounters.” You cringed recalling the past few weeks.

“‘Tsumu crashed her blind dates”, Osamu called from the prep station where he was rolling onigiri.

“Why am I not surprised”, the guy with the mask, Sakusa spoke up.

“Yeah. Blondie over here has been wreaking havoc on my life.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about”, Atsumu said with a scoff.

“So, how do you know him?”, You turned the question around. You had a pretty good guess, but you didn’t want to let Atsumu know that you’d been stalking him online.

“Oh. We’re Tsum Tsum’s teammates, except Akaashi here who’s my friend from high school”, Bokuto answered.

“Yeah, we’re volleyball players for the MSBY Black Jackals”, Hinata said proudly.

“Wow! That’s pretty cool”, you tried to act surprised.

“You probably didn’t know, but I’m kinda a big deal. I’m even on tv.” Leave it to Atsumu to turn this into an opportunity to stoke his ego. You rolled your eyes.

“Lucky you ‘Tsumu, thanks to that all your lame moments are recorded on the internet.” You could count on Osamu to have a good clapback.

“Lame moments? Like what?”

Atsumu’s face went tense.

“You should’ve seen it,” Bokuto said excitedly. “A few weeks ago we were walking into a meet and greet and ‘Tsum ‘Tsum had the craziest fall. It was hilarious”

“Ah! Wait no-“, Atsumu tried to stop his teammates, but it was too late.

“Oh, the one where he tripped off the stage?”, Akaashi asked.

“And twirled in the air”, Hinata excitedly added.

“And ended up hanging there by his pants because the waistband got caught on the edge of the stage” Bokuto barely got the words out between his loud guffaws.

“It was awesome!” Hinata shouted.

“It was terrible.” Sakusa corrected him.

“There’s no way that happened!” You cackled.

“It totally did!” Hinata exclaimed.

“They got the whole thing on camera too. You should watch it [y/n]!” Bokuto added.

Atsumu’s eyes got wide. “No, she shouldn’t!” Atsumu desperately interjected.

“Here lemme pull it up,” Bokuto said. He frowned, “Aw man my cell service is really weak.”

Atsumu sighed in relief and lazily grinned “Well that’s a real shame-“

“I have it saved on my phone”, Osamu tossed his phone to Hinata, who caught it.

“‘Samu!”

You all gathered around and watched the video. It was every bit as glorious and embarrassing as it Atsumu’s teammates described it as. By the end, you were wheezing.

You turned to Atsumu, “Can’t help being charming huh?”

“Aghhh!” He slumped over the table and buried his face in his arms.

“Wow you’re actually kinda cute when you aren’t being an asshole”

“Aww she called you cute”

“I’m pretty sure that was a roast Hinata”

~

After spending some time chatting and eating, everyone packed up and got ready to leave.

“You’re pretty funny [y/n]. We should hang out more often”, Bokuto grinned at you.

“You guys are pretty funny too”

“Oh [y/n]! You should come to our game tonight! We each get some extra tickets!” Hinata’s eyes lit up as he made his suggestion.

“Oh, I don’t know about that”

“It’ll be super fun!”, Bokuto followed up.

“And its an exhibition match, so there’ll only be three sets. It won’t drag on too long.” Akaashi added.

“It sounds cool, but it’d be kinda weird to go by myself-“

“You could hang out with me at my onigiri booth if ya like,” Osamu said with a shrug.

Well if they wanted you to come that badly…

“Thanks Osamu. Okay sure! I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Bokuto and Hinata cheered. Akaashi smiled. Sakusa sighed.

As the volleyball boys filed out of the restaurant, Atsumu called out to you

“Hey can I have your number to send the ticket link to?”

“Oh sure,” He handed you his phone and you quickly typed your number into it. You handed it back to him.

“Just watch [y/n]. Tonight I’ll show ya just how cool I can be.” Atsumu had a determined look on his face.

“You’re awfully confident”

“Meet me at the back of the stadium when I win. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to say I’m not charmin’ after you see me play.”

“Whatever you say.” You chuckled.

“Well, I gotta go then. See ya later [y/n]!” Atsumu smiled at his phone, tucking it in his bag, and turned to dash after his teammates.

Wait. Did you really just give him your number?

~

Sendai Stadium. FRIDAY 7:05PM

You’d pulled up a chair next to Osamu’s onigiri cart. You were both watching as the players made their way onto the court.

Tonight, Atsumu’s team, the MSBY Black Jackals, were up against the Eastern Japan Paper Mills Raijin. The players from the Black Jackals that you met earlier were being announced on court one by one.

“Number 13. Atsumu Miya!!!”

Atsumu jogged onto the court beaming. He surveyed the crowd until his eyes locked with yours then he shot a playful wink in your direction.

After some setup, it seemed like the game was about to start. Someone tossed Atsumu the ball, and he started walking toward the back of the court.

“He’s about to serve.” Osamu filled you in.

“Oh…”

Atsumu turned and faced the court. Atsumu’s face turned serious. He raised his hand and clenched his fist. The crowd instantly snapped into silence. Hah??? What was that? Did he really just silence the crowd? Talk about fucking extra (and maybe a little hot).

Atsumu took a deep breath and tossed the ball into the air. He loped forward then leaped, sweeping his harm back. Looking up at the ball, he broke into a smile. It was a fun and childlike grin, the kind you couldn’t help but smile back at. He swung his hand forward making contact with the ball with a bang that echoed throughout the stadium. It shot across the net and slammed into the opponent's side of the court.

Woah.

He turned to look at you again. You were still stunned with amazement. He smirked in your direction and jogged to pick up the ball again.

Osamu turned to you with a chuckle. “When it comes to volleyball, ‘Tsumu’s not bad huh?”

As much as you wanted to make some kind of snarky comment, there was no hiding the fact that was probably the coolest thing you’d seen recently, maybe ever.

“…yeah”

And it didn’t stop there. He fired ace after ace, and even after his service streak was broken he didn’t stop pulling out smooth moves that captured your attention. At one point he went full-on limbo and got under an impossibly low ball while leaning back and tossed it perfectly to Bokuto, who slammed it down.

He lifted his shirt to wipe his sweat, revealing his midriff. You bit your lip. Okay. Fine. He was kind of hot, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

Soon, the Black Jackals had taken the first set. 25-18.

The second set was a much closer fight. 24-23. It was the Black Jackals match point on Atsumu’s serve. (Your favorite kind of point). He started his usual service route, silencing the crowd and tossing the ball into the air, but when he jumped something looked a little off. He didn’t smile at the ball like he usually did, and when his hand finally made contact it was a little awkward. The ball flew right into the net.

“Ugh.” Osamu frowned.

24-24

“Come on Atsumu…”, you muttered under your breath. He looked visibly disappointed.

A service ace from the opposing team.

24-25

The tables had been turned. The opposing team’s match point started. Hinata returned the serve and got the ball into the air. Atsumu tossed the ball to Sakusa who smashed it, but the opposing team managed to get it back in the air. The opposing team sent an attack flying back. It bounced off the blocker's hands and flew toward the back of Atsumu’s side of the court.

“A block out!”

Atsumu dove for the ball, but it was too late. It bounced just out of his reach. That dejected look on his face deepened.

As the final set started, the Black Jackals just couldn’t seem to grasp back the momentum. Any time they were about to catch up with the opponents in terms of points, the opponents would pull ahead again.

7-10

Atsumu set to Bokuto but failed to clear a path. The ball was met with a wall and crashed back to the court.

15-18

Atsumu dove for the ball again but couldn’t save it

21-24

Matchpoint. Atsumu’s serve again. He looked unstable as he launched himself up and slammed his hand into the ball. It flew over the net and kept flying.

The referee blew his whistle. “Out!”

Final Score. 1-2. MSBY Black Jackals Lose.

~

Atsumu told you to meet him behind the stadium when he won. Technically, he hadn’t won, but there’s no way you could just leave like this. It’s not like you were especially close to him, but you just couldn’t. He definitely didn’t need your help, and honestly it would be hypocritical for you, the queen of cynical perfectionism, to pat him on the back and tell him that losing is okay. Despite that here you were. You just wanted to talk to him.

You spotted him crouched at the bottom of the stairs leading to the back entrance. Cautiously, you called out to him, “Hey.”

He turned to look at you. He looked even more depressed than when he walked off the court. “What’re you doin’ here? I told you to come when I won”

“I…I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

“Hah. Are you here to tell me being a loser is okay? Gimme a break. I don’t want your pity party”

You folded your arms and lifted your chin. “Who said I was here to cheer you up? Today, you’re a fucking loser.” He flinched.

“I know!” He buried his head back in his knees. “You don’t hafta rub it in.” His voice was muffled by his sweats.

“You’re a loser today, but”, You walked up to him and crouched down to his level, “this loss will pave the way for many more victories.”

He scoffed. “You don’t get it [y/n]! I wanna win today and the next time. I wanna win every time. Losers should just quit!”

“A competitive spirit like that is awesome. Nothing is more motivating, but Atsumu, that kinda energy is only useful if it’s powering you forward, not making you sulk and feel like you’re better off quitting. Am I wrong?” 

He lifted his face out of his sweats to look at you. “…”

You reached out your hand. “C’mon let’s get out of here”

“I don’t need your help”

You smiled, knowing just what to say. “I know you don’t. This”, you took his hand in yours, “is me being selfish.”

He couldn’t help but crack a small grin at that. “Can’t argue with that can I?”

He gripped your hand back. You both stood up and started walking away from the stadium.

“You might be a loser, but I thought you looked really cool when I first saw you serve earlier”

“Wow [y/n] was that a genuine compliment?”

“…but I silencing the crowd was too extra don’t you think?”

“Hah. I don’t need any pigs interruptin’ me, and I’ve heard people think it looks hot.”

“Hot? Says who?”

Just like that you two were back to your usual bickering. You almost didn’t notice that he was still holding your hand.

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Three [Pt. 2]

Part Eighty-Three [Pt. 1]

VIVIAN

"Fuck you, too!" I hear Nikki shout at me as I walk down the stairs and I shake my head and ignore it, getting out of the club as fast as I can, heading to the car. 

"Get me to Franklin Plaza Suites, please." I tell him and he nods, not saying a word about the lack of people I came here with. 

Once I get to the apartments, I knock on Duff's door, and he opens up in under ten seconds. 

"Hey," he says, smiling at me.

I don't even reply, taking the cigarette from between his lips, standing on my toes to kiss him, backing him into the apartment, shutting the door with my foot. 

He chuckles, pulling away after a moment, looking bewildered for a second. 

"It's good to see you, too." He tells me, taking his cigarette back. "How was your night out?" 

"Awful." I reply, sighing, as I toss my purse onto the couch, and kick my heels off. "Got any Pepsi?" 

"Bought it just for you." He grins, nodding. 

"Yay." I let out, stepping to the fridge. 

"What was awful about it?" He presses, leaning against the bar. 

"Frickin' Nikki." I hiss, opening the can of soda. "He chewed me out about how evil and manipulative I am and what a bitch I've been and yada yada yada." I explain. "Then had the audacity to ask me if I was upset with him about something." I add. "Like, Gee, no dipshit, Einstein. You've put smack before me for the past four and a half years and then had a full fledged affair only, what, three years into the marriage?" 

"I think he's really sick, Viv." He says calmly and I look at him. "I'm not defending him in any way, like he's fucked up and shouldn't be on that to begin with but I've had friends completely change all because they were sick from being addicted to junk. He's sick and he's not himself." 

"Well, he's had plenty of time to correct it and get help but he's refused so now he's just gonna have to live with the consequences." I reply, taking a sip of my drink. 

"Have you filed for divorce yet?" He questions me and I shrug. 

"He just got home today, Duff, I didn't want the first thing he saw to be divorce papers." I tell him and he just nods. 

"Yeah, that wouldn't help anything." He mumbles. 

"But I'm doing it, you know." I assure him. "I'll go down there next week and draw some up."

He nods, not looking entirely convinced. 

"Hey, c'mere." I reach for him and he smiles, blowing smoke, before putting the cigarette out and stepping towards me. 

I put my Pepsi on the counter and wrap my arms around him, looking up at him. 

He leans down and kisses me, and I hum, smiling. 

"Where do you wanna go tonight?" He asks me and I shake my head a little. 

"I don't wanna go out." I tell him, running my hands under his t-shirt to feel his back. 

"You don't?" He asks, furrowing his brows a little.

"HmmHmm." I shake my head. 

"What do you wanna do?" He looks at me and I lick my lips, my hands tugging at his belt. 

He starts chuckling, grinning down at me, kissing me again. 

I pull his shirt up and he tosses it aside, his hand reaching for the zipper of my dress, dragging it down my back as our tongues twist together. 

My panties are kicked down my legs in milliseconds and I'm getting his pants unzipped within the same amount of time.

Before I can get on my knees, he's tossing me onto the counter, making me giggle before moaning once his tongue licks over my nipples before kissing down my stomach. 

My eyes roll back when his tongue circles my clit, my hands going to his soft hair as a gasp leaves my lips, my eyes closing for a moment.

His palm runs up the side of my thigh, his fingers interlocking with mine as I move my body against him, getting into a good rhythm. 

I let out a sharp moan, my core throbbing. 

He pulls away for a second to look at me splayed out for him, his hand leaving mine so his fingers can rub where his tongue left off, my chest heaving with each breath. 

I put my fingers over his before he's reaching his hand down and grabbing himself, taking a breath as I move his fingers out of my way and start pleasuring myself, seeing his eyes go lust-crazy. 

I remember doing this to Nikki a lot and it'd have him in a whirlwind. 

I slide one finger into myself, biting at my lip as I slide in another one, slowly moving them in and out, moaning and gasping softly with the friction, my other hand slowly grabbing my chest. 

"Viv," he says, rubbing his lips together just as I pull my fingers out and suck them clean. 

He's lightly grabbing my jaw, his mouth getting a taste of mine, and then the door swings open. 

"Oh, shit, sorry!" Steven blurts and we glare at him as Duff scrambles to cover me. 

"Dude what the hell?" Duff asks. 

"I thought she went home!" Steven yells in a whisper. 

"I lied!" I reply in the same tone, panic striking me. "Is he here?!"

"No," he tells me, "he and the boys hung back at the Cathouse." He adds.

"Okay." I reply quickly, hoping he'll take the hint and leave...but he just keeps standing there. 

"Stevie," Duff says. 

"Oh, sorry," he goes to shut the door, but stops for a moment. "I'm trying to hit the hay early, you guys mind keeping it down?" 

"Sure." We say at the same time. 

"Thanks." He shuts the door. 

Nikki was, indeed, next door, Steven just didn't want me to panic, and he wanted us to keep it down to avoid Nikki catching us.

"Shh!" Duff chuckles, smiling up at me, his hand covering my mouth as I slide back down onto him, making him take in an airy breath. 

I bite at his middle finger that's lined over my lips and he grabs at my hair and pulls my lips down to his, his arm wrapping around my waist as I sink onto him again, squeezing my eyes closed as he hits that spot in me that makes my legs shake and my toes curls. 

"Right there," I gasp out, throwing my head back, my body tensing, my walls tightening around him as he strategically puts his hands on my hips and holds me in place while pounding into me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Duff," I struggle for air, my mind going hazy as pleasure gags me.  

I love Steven, but fuck him right now. 

I let out a loud moan, unable to contain myself as I squeeze in like a python around him and reach my release, my hands on his thighs, his hands moving to my boobs as I keep riding him, sweat rolling down my neck to nipple and he sits up and nips it off, making me run my fingers through his hair and he takes it as a telltale to keep sucking, licking and biting at my flesh. 

He does the same to my other breast before kissing at my neck, then my lips again. 

I notice that he's acting like he's holding himself back and I pull away from his lips to ask, "are you gonna come?" 

"When I get to a point I wanna pull out." He replies, his hand grasping my ass. 

"No," I shake my head a little, giggling. 

"No?" He grins as he plays dumb, kissing my collar bone before turning us over, slowing his thrusts down, kissing me passionately, and I dig my nails into his back, humming softly. 

"No." I say lightly, licking my lips, lacing my legs tightly around him and he looks between us and sighs, knowing he's not gonna win this one. 

Not that he really wants to. 

I take his middle and his pointer finger between my lips, sucking on them, and he balls his fist into the sheets by my head.

"Fuck, Viv," he curses when I hum around the digits. "You're gonna get me in trouble." He adds. 

"Not yet," I reply.

"Not yet?" He raises his brows and I kiss him one more time before nudging him off of me, turning over on my stomach, moving my legs into a center split, arching my back so he can slide back into me and I throw my hair to one shoulder and look back at him, moaning quietly when he says bad words under his breath before kissing from the base of my spine up between my shoulder blades. 

When I feel him getting back in me at this angle, I bite into the bedsheet, moaning in my throat. 

"Shit, Vivian." He says slowly pushing into my slick cunt. 

I take a breath through my mouth, discarding the sheet, clawing at them, instead. 

His hands support his weight right by my shoulders and I take one of his hands and put it around my throat, biting at my lip when he squeezes just enough to send a rush of pulses to my clit. 

"Duff, it feels so good," I tell him, gasping from the pleasure, snaking my hand down between me and the mattress to play with my clit while he slowly moves in and out of me, my breath catching in my constricted throat, further turning me on. 

"Why are you this fucking hot?" He whispers in my ear and I cry out, tightening around him. "Huh?"

"I don't--fuck, harder, Duff, please," I beg, desperate, and he lets go of my throat for a second to move in and out of me faster, and harder, beating into my pussy, making my juices coat my fingers that are toying with myself. 

His hand grabs at the side of my neck, keeping the side of my face pressed to the bed and I'm swallowed up by oncoming another orgasm. 

"You gonna come again?" He asks me, his sweat dripping onto my back and I nod, before it hits me like a wave, my back arching more, my thighs and pussy spasming, as "it's all yours" leaves my lips repeatedly, like a fucked porn star or something.

"It's all mine?" He asks me and I nod quickly. "Is that why you want me to cum in you so bad? It's all mine?" He teases.

"Mmhmm," I'm moving in rhythm with him, cum all on the sheets beneath us.

His thrusts get harder, and more intense and I'm nearly wanting to crawl up the mattress each time he makes me take his length, making my eyes water with pleasure. 

I realize he's about to come and I look at him to see he's looking at himself entering me. 

"Make me take every last drop," I beg, and he looks up at me before moaning out under his breath, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he's burying himself into me, hot cum warming my insides as I moan out, satisfied.

He doesn't pull away until he's finished, collapsing next to me, and I crawl to the foot of the bed next to him, laying down, kissing his bicep and he turns over to look at me, bringing my lips to his. 

"You're dirty." He tells me and I chuckle, kissing him, again. "You're a fucking angel, though." He adds and I furrow my brows.

"I don't think angels do what we just did." I state. 

"No, no," he agrees, running his fingers through my hair. "You're just perfect, Viv." 

"Duff--" 

We're cut off by multiple people screaming next door, shouting something indistinctively.

"Duff, Viv!" Steven yells from the living room. 

"What?!" Duff calls and Steven stumbles to the bedroom. 

"Nikki's blue!" 

Alone in the Ashes {24}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Remember that one time when Lucas and Nathan faced off on the rivercourt for Peyton’s affection? Yeah. Good times.

Anyways, even I said “What the fuck” at the end of this chapter...Enjoy “The one before the finale”. x

“I'd always thought death would be some sort of peaceful homecoming - a sweet, sad lullaby to usher me into whatever waited afterward.” ― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Lain?”

It was the week before Rhysand and Feyre’s wedding, and everyone was going out to celebrate. All but Elain, who offered to stay home with Mila so that Azriel could enjoy himself. He’d been on edge too often, lately. He needed a good night out.

Besides, Elain was pregnant and nauseous and the last thing she wanted to do was be out with a bunch of people when she couldn’t drink and was too damn tired to dance. 

“Yes?” Elain asked from where she was perched on the other side of the couch.

“Is the baby in your belly a boy or a girl?”

Elain chuckled. “We don’t know yet. What do you want the baby to be?”

Mila took a minute to think about it. “I don’t care. I just want someone to play with.”

Elain’s smile softened. “Well, soon enough, baby will be here.”

“I be a big sister?” she asked, with hope in her sweet, innocent eyes.

“Sure will,” Elain confirmed. “The best big sister!”

“Is Uncle Azzie going to marry you?” Mila asked. “Like Rhysie and Feyre.”

“Maybe,” Elain said, in all honesty. “But not right now.”

“I want you to marry Uncle Azzie,” Mila said, sighing as she pet Elain’s cat, Ginger. “We could all live together in a big house. Me, you, Uncle Az, and baby.”

Elain watched Mila as she kissed the kitten’s forehead. “I would like that, too.”

“Good,” Mila beamed. “Can we watch t.v.?”

“It’s getting late,” Elain said, huffing a laugh, a hand on her stomach. The morning sickness wasn’t as bad, but it tended to linger throughout the day. 

“Please?” Mila sang, big eyes pleading.

“Alright, but only for a little while,” Elain said. “When i say it’s time for bed, it’s time for bed.”

Mila jumped up on the couch, arms in the air. “Yay!”

Elain turned the station to a kid’s show as she pulled out her phone and texted Azriel, What did this child have for lunch? She has enough energy for all of us.

Azriel’s reply came a second later. Chicken nuggets.

Then, it was followed by, A cherry icee might have happened, too.

Elain laughed to herself as she typed out, Oh, good. Get her all sugared up then leave her with the pregnant woman.

“Lain, do you have ice cream?”

Elain shook her head. “How about an apple?”

Mila groaned. “Fine.”

As Elain went into the kitchen, her phone vibrated in her hoodie pocket. Azriel had said, I can always come home. I’m only ten minutes down the road if you need me.

Have fun, Elain had texted back. Enjoy yourself. We’re good over here. After adding a green heart emoji, she pressed send. 

After washing an apple and cutting it into slices, Elain walked back into the living room, where Mila was snoring, using Ginger as a pillow. Shaking her head, Elain took her place at the other end of the couch.

When she pulled her phone out of her pocket, it read, Kiss Mila and the baby goodnight for me.

Elain’s cheeks turned pink as she smiled. Every night, Azriel pressed his soft lips to Elain’s stomach, to the bump that had formed there.

I will, Elain had typed back. Always.

~~~~~~

“I feel bad for leaving Elain,” Feyre frowned. “She deserves to have fun, too.”

“She offered,” Nesta reminded her. “Besides, she’s been up at the crack of dawn puking her guts up. The woman needs to take sleep when she can find it.”

Feyre agreed before taking another shot.

Shots were on Mor, and the rounds kept coming. Feyre had already texted Rhysand once, to see where Cassian and Azriel were taking him, but he had replied that he didn’t know, that it was a surprise, and that he was scared shitless because any surprise that involved Cassian was asking for trouble.

Feyre didn’t disagree. 

“One week from today,” Amren began, eyes bright, intoxicated, “you’ll be a married woman.”

“Any idea where you’re going for the honeymoon?” Mor asked. “Rhys let anything slip?”

“Not a thing,” Feyre groaned. “And it’s been driving me crazy.”

“Any guesses?” Nesta asked.

Feyre took a second to think about it. Yes, she had guessed a few times over the past weeks, but Rhysand had let nothing slip. “My guess is Adriata. He knows I love the beach.”

And even now, as Autumn was beginning, Adriata was as warm and sunny as ever. But every time Feyre had guessed as much, Rhysand just shrugged and said, Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.

The handsome bastard. 

“You know what we should do?” Mor asked, then looked to Nesta. “Designated driver, pull the car around, please. We have to get the bride prepared for her honeymoon.”

Feyre groaned, but Nesta was already on her feet, hurrying out the door.

Five minutes later, they were gathered together in Nesta’s car, driving down Main Street. 

“Where are you taking me now?” Feyre asked, exasperated.

“You’ll see,” Mor crooned.

The endless list of surprises was about to drive Feyre insane.

They pulled up to a little lingerie shop and dragged Feyre out of the car.

“Is this necessary?” she asked. “Rhysand prefers me naked.”

Mor rolled her eyes as Amren said, “You can’t go on your honeymoon without a solid selection of overpriced lingerie.”

Feyre laughed, unable to argue as they entered the shop.

The room was filled with lace and silk, varying in styles and choices.

“Fine,” Feyre sighed. “Everyone pick out something and I’ll get it, no questions asked, but after this, we drink!”

Feyre was answered with laughter and hollering as she crashed in a chair near the dressing room. 

She would be married, Rhysand’s wife, in one week. It almost didn’t seem real. Everything was going so well, so smoothly, so beautifully, even with the rushed planning.

One week, with her girls by her side, and apparently a bag packed full of lingerie, ready to go wherever the hell Rhys was taking her after the ceremony... She would be her best friend’s wife.

~~~~~

 The back of Cassian’s truck was down, a twelve pack of shitty beer sat on the unhitched gate, and rock music poured from the radio as the three friends played basketball on the small court along the Sidra. 

Rhysand’s mom used to take the three of them there, from the time they were in middle school and fell in love with the sport. It had always been a safe haven, so it made sense why his two closest friends would gather an ass-ton of beer and take him to the court for some bonding before he got hitched in a week.

Cassian had a beer can pressed to his lips as he dribbled the ball to the free-throw line. 

“Anything new about Eris?” He asked.

Azriel cleared his throat. “No, but Amarantha calls and leaves a voicemail every other day, claiming the prick won’t give up. Which, I believe. Eris isn’t the type to be told he can’t have something and drop it.”

Azriel had gone to court a few days prior, and Eris had left furious after he’d been granted nothing. It was a win, but Rhysand could tell Azriel’s worry lingered.

“No matter what happens, she’s going to get older, you know? Eventually, she’ll have questions about them both, and I’m going to be the bad guy for saying, your mom’s in prison, and your dad’s a dick. Sorry, can’t see either of them.”

“Doesn’t make you a bad person for wanting to protect her,” Rhysand said. Cassian raised his beer in agreement.

“So I hear,” he mumbled, and surely Elain had been constantly telling him the same thing. “Nervous?” Azriel asked, where he stood beneath the hoop, undoubtedly hoping to get the conversation off of him.

“About playing against Cassian?” Rhysand asked. “Hardly.”

Azriel chuckled. “About getting married, dumbass.”

Rhysand grinned. “Not really. Nothing to be nervous about.” 

People were still around, the sun yet to have completely sink down, walking or jogging along the walk by the river. None of them seemed to care that they were drinking in a public area, or that their music was obnoxiously loud. 

“I’d be nervous,” Cassian muttered, throwing his empty can at his truck bed - and completely missing. 

“If you were marrying Nesta?” Rhysand asked. “Fuck, any man would be nervous. Or, you know, completely terrified.” 

Cassian snorted, but didn’t deny it. “About getting married in general. Everyone staring up at you, watching you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes as you proclaim your love…”

Azriel laughed, taking the ball away from Cassian and dribbling it up to half court. “That’s bullshit, you love attention.”

Cassian’s grin only widened. Rhysand said nothing as he watched Azriel dribble up to the three point line, all he could do is laugh as Cassian took a step forward to block his shot, but stumbled.

And yet, Azriel shot the ball and it missed the backboard by a foot.

Maybe they’d all had more to drink than they had thought. 

But none of them chased that ball as it rolled off the court, and out onto the grass, near the riverwalk.

Where a young man picked it up, saw Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, and grinned.

So did his companion. 

Rhysand froze, and Cassian started charging forward, but Azriel quickly grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back.

Tamlin chuckled. “That’s right, control your bitch.”

He and Eris stopped at the edge of the court.

Those walking past must have sensed the tension, because they began receiving strange looks as they stood atop the court in silence. 

And yet, they all kept walking past. 

“I hear you’re getting married next week,” Tamlin went on, strutting onto the court, ball bouncing on the concrete. “I suppose I should congratulate you. And my beautiful Feyre.”

Rhysand said nothing, but Cassian spat, “Leave.”

“How about we play?” Eris suggested, but he was looking at Azriel. “It’s been a while since we played.”

“You’re not welcome here,” Azriel said.

“Where is my daughter, by the way?” Eris said, looking around. “With your whore, no doubt.”

Now it was Cassian’s turn to grab Azriel by the arm. It only made Eris’s grin wider and far more wicked. 

“We don’t want trouble,” Rhysand said, plainly. “Give us our ball back and go.”

Tamlin did no such thing. “I think a game would be fun. Me and Eris against Cassian and Az. Rhysand, you could referee. Wouldn’t want you getting injured so close to your big day. Feyre will need you to be able to...perform. We all know how needy she is in bed, especially on her wedding night.”

Rhysand’s jaw hardened. “Why are you here, Tam?”

“We were walking by,” he said, shrugging. “We can’t stop and say hello?”

“No,” Cassian said, plainly.

“Then perhaps we’ll stop and say hello at the wedding, instead,” Tamlin crooned. “I hear it’s not far from here. By the woods, along the Sidra…”

“If you show up at the wedding-” Rhysand growled, but he was cut off.

“You’ll what?” Eris laughed. “Ask us to leave like you’re doing now? How’s that approach working for you?”

“I’ll handle it,” Cassian said, voice low. “And, considering the state I left you two in after our last encounter, you know that’ll end.”

Eris’ smile faded. “You were lucky, filled with that unholy rage that’s landed you in a jail cell more times than I can count.”

Cassian took a step forward, and this time, Azriel didn’t stop him. “You know what you’re problem is?” Cassian asked, looking between the two of them. “You grow up, spoiled, getting everything you’ve ever wanted, and now, you have this unwavering entitlement that makes you think you’re fucking invincible.” He took another step forward. “But you’re not. One day, you’ll get what’s coming to you, and your daddys won’t be there to help you out.” 

Tamlin grinned as he met Cassian in the lane, closing the distance between them. “Spoken like a true bastard, who killed his own mommy and whose daddy didn’t want him.”

Cassian’s body went still.

Azriel’s face went pale.

Yes, Cassian had a lot of anger. And that anger came from somewhere. And that somewhere was just declared, outright, from Tamlin’s mouth.

Cassian didn’t talk about it, but Rhysand and Azriel knew. In high school, Cassian had found his mother dead in their living room. Then, unable to handle the pain of loss, he fled for weeks and no one saw him. The rumors that came from that were unbearable. But that’s all they were, of course, fucked up rumors.

That Rhysand was certain Tamlin and Eris had been the ones to spread.

“You need to leave,” Rhysand warned.

But Tamlin didn’t move.

Nor did Eris.

Instead, Eris pulled a small knife out of his pocket and flicked it open. He used the sharp tip to clean the dirt out from under his fingernails.

Utter rage consumed Azriel’s face. 

That man was Mila’s father.

Cassian was unleashed.

He instantly tackled Tamlin to the ground, Cassian’s fist colliding with his jaw. Then Eris was on the move, charging at Azriel, but he stood his ground.

Rhysand’s can fell out of his hand, spilling across the pavement as he moved toward them, one foot in front of the other, to where Tamlin now had Cassian held down, just barely, by his throat.

What happened after that was a blur of blood and chaos.

Women who walked past walked by quickly, and a few men eventually came to try and break it up, but they were only swept into the fight themselves.

It became an all out war.

“Call the police!” a woman yelled, and Rhysand had hardly heard her above the madness surrounding him, above the pounding in his ears. 

He had just brought a man down that had gotten him good in the nose when Rhysand spun around, and saw it.

Eris had Azriel pinned against the ground by his knees, one hand holding his face still, the other holding that knife to Azriel’s neck.

Azriel laid perfectly still, breathing hard. Any movement, and the blade would get him.

Rhysand screamed Eris’ name, but when he started to run that direction, he was caught by a random jogger who threw him against the court. Cassian was still tumbling around with Tamlin, completely unaware of what was happening outside of their feud.

It was then that a middle-aged man, who should have been nowhere near the court, stepped behind Eris and tried to haul him off of Azriel.

But Eris was strong, much stronger. He pulled the knife away from Azriel’s neck, only to push the man down with such force that Rhysand could hear him hit the concrete. Rhysand was already on his feet, moving as quickly as he could toward the scene, but he was still too far away.

Azriel took Eris’ distraction to his advantage, though. He grabbed the knife from Eris’ hand and stabbed him in the side. Eris cried out in agony, but Azriel was pushing Eris off of him, and was hurrying to the middle-aged man lying on the concrete, hazel eyes full of horror. 

“Call a fucking ambulance!” he screamed, his voice so loud, so panicked, that the fight surrounding them began to dissipate.

Even Tamlin looked at the sight, looked at Azriel hovering over the man, in horror.

Because he knew that man.

Cassian’s face paled as he dropped Tamlin to the concrete and, blood running from his nose, ran to his truck for his phone. 

Because lying on the ground, still as stone, was Isaac Archeron. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

No Longer A Secret

pairing: Maxwell Lord x F!CEO!Reader

summary: The rivalry between Chimtech Consortium and Techlite Coterie was no joke. The electrifying glow around the two CEOs of the company had been more than prominent whenever the two are in the same room. People could just feel it. There’s just one rule, whatever happens in private- stays in private. They knew it would’ve been broken sooner or later.

word count: 2.6k

warning: smut, language, dirty talking, jealous!maxwell, friends (?) with benefits, rough sex ??, choking

note: my first maxwell lord AND (?) pedro pascal fanfiction! yay! i’m so excited, i’ve been enticed by his wonderful acting that made me love all of his characters 🥰- techlite is an actual company but that was the name that i could come up with at the top of my head lol. tagging @storiesofthefandomlovers​ because guess who had a doubt they couldn’t find answers from google? Me! (just a reminder that we still have yet to see Max’s true personality- so :))

Glowing of red rays splayed across the street of the boisterous city. Despite the growing intensity of the vibrant red, there were other territories who decided to claim part of the land as their own. Shades of grey sprinkled over the road as blocks of cars swirl in organized strings. Various signs were hung up, some larger than the other; however, even though the size difference was quite prominent, it seemed it had not done its specified job. The expectations of greater, flashier, eye-catching signs to power over the rest had been over the market’s roof. It did nothing as the pedestrians would graze their eyes over the block letters in yellow or barely readable cursive blue, before continuing their path. 

There was such a gorgeous scene set up right outside the office window, a pro the male CEO had liked. It almost made him feel as if he had the whole view over a chunk of the city. Conquering. However, as time went by- it was nothing but just a passing routine of his day. Despite the great view the city offered, there was nothing else beautiful than the staggering moans inside the closed-off grand office.

“Fuck! Max...” The shrill escaped her throat in a quivering line as her legs tingled from the thrusting of his hips and the piercing of his fingers into her thigh. The combination that he always liked to mix-and-match would always get her to jump in shock. His eyes shot up, the sight of her head thrown back, hairs angled up in peculiar angles from the excessive rubbing against the wooden table had only caused him to double the filthy thought that had already tinted his mind. 

Not to forget her fingers weaving through her locks as if to grip herself into reality when he had snapped his hips. She had already tried several objects that were available on the desk to hold her steady. Except, most of them had been thrown onto the ground, either from her pushing it off the surface, or it was during the commencement of the meeting. Y/N’s lips were gaped open, a relief sigh escaping her lips once his fingers cladded around her throat as if she wore a choker.

“Don’t fucking call me Max.” He growled out, sending shivering vibrations into the warmth between her legs. Despite the enticing sensation on his pelvis slapping into her, Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his infamous attitude. The attitude that claimed of his whiny, brat-like tone. There had been flying rumours behind his back, the words on a creaking wagon with every step he took. They claimed that behind the fake grinning facade of a mask he wore, he was only a smug man. And Y/N, well... she could confirm as their inconsistent, abrupt meetings had proven more evidence than she would need. It was never like that at the start.

In the beginning, the two could barely stand in each other’s peripheral, leading to a very immense, awkward distance between the two CEOs of the dominating companies of the market. Even for other business-related people in the same room as them could see the string that wrapped around their heads did not bend or fold, for it kept a constant distance between the two. As if something would’ve gone off if they had opposed the rules. Then, everything had flipped around. Y/N could barely remember how, but it was something on the lines of alcohols, and running into each other at midnight. Pushing their secret meetings down a hole, they had tried their absolute best to keep their relationship a secret. Although, that was a challenge for the two when they found a narrow spot in the janitor’s room during a gala. She didn’t know how she had managed to drag Maxwell into that one.

“Oh! Fuck,” Y/N moaned out when she felt his other hand crept up her thighs to draw circles on her clit, suddenly pressing the bundle of nerves without a warning. “Right there!” With her hand over his circling ones, she gazed deeply into his eyes, even though there had been a few droplets of tears blurring her sight that were ready to be set free in a blink. “I’m close.”

He nodded, chest heaving at the most strenuous activity he had done for the day. Maxwell watched her unoccupied hands run across his mess of a table, her grip only managing to grasp onto the edge of the freezing wooden table. He let out a chuckle, “Yeah? Fucking come for me. Yeah, just like that... fuck, on my dick, yeah.”

Glazing the sheet of protection was the glistening liquid that oozed out of the woman and onto the man. With eyes rolled to the back of her heads, her orbs settled onto the figure who beamed at his shaft in fascination, “Fuck, look at that,” Maxwell sniggered, his fingers wrapping around his still erected cock. A staggering sigh caressed into the air, his fingers cladded with her juices. Their eyes met, unseen yet shuddering shivers of electricity clambered down their spine, Maxwell quirked his eyebrows at her perched up elbows. “Lay down, baby, I’m not done yet.”

“Are you going to the gala?” Y/N inquired as she sauntered across the office for her clothing, skin still bare and exposed to the air that was now frigid. There was not even a second of coldness when she was thrown onto the table with Maxwell inside her. All the warmth the two had generated together had evaporated in thin air. The male CEO had already yanked up his pants, the trousers that had been coiled to rest around his ankles during the strenuous activity were now buttoned up once again. His eyes lingered on her naked figure, orbs taking in the glowing sight. The warm rays of the afternoon smeared along the canvas of her.

Maxwell sniggered, head shaking in amusement, “I just made you come three times, and the first thing you ask me is if I’m going to the gala?” His fingers slipped the leather belt that sat on the corner of his wooden table into the slits. Arms resting onto the cushion of his chair, he gazed upon the sinful sight. The thoughts that had sparked the meeting swerved into his head. 

“Well? Are you?” Y/N quirked her eyebrows, finally clipping on her bra. The nearly shredded looking dress in her grasp, looking as helpless as it could be. The results of hasty hands.

“I’d rather stay at home, and get ruined there.” Y/N let out a chuckle, her arms slipping into the sleeves. While her body had now been covered by the previous dress that had been yanked off of her (nearly ripped into two fabrics by Maxwell’s force), Maxwell didn’t bother to button up his dress shirt. The male CEO had poured himself whiskey in the rock glass, tongue already coated by the day’s delicacies.

“I’m going, dragged once again to these stupid meetups. Always end up talking about what we’re going to eat for breakfast or shit.” Despite her mumbling the last sentence under her breath, Maxwell had heard it clearly. Amused, he chuckled.

“Who’re you going with?”

“Not sure yet. Heard that Michael might be asking me.” With that, Maxwell’s smile was wiped off clean from his face. The crescent frown he wore had not matched the slightly curling of Y/N’s lips. 

“Michael? Michael from Kingsley Steel?” If his mood had not declined down enough, the nod from the woman had been the reason it passed the horizontal line of zero.

Creasing down her folding dress that seemed to find comfort in brushing against each other like an accordion, Y/N swiftly swept her foot inside her heels, “If you’re ever need of a gal, I’m sure I can hand a list of those who could tolerate you, Maxie. Not promising there would be a name!”

“Don’t call me that!” The male CEO shot up from his chair, the glass still in his hand.

Giggling while she sauntered towards the door, she threw a glance over her shoulder, waving at the man, “Thank you for the delighting meeting, once again, Maxie.”

Maxwell huffed, planting himself back into the warm seat, his palm running to rub his face. This was the situation he got stuck in. How does he flee from it?

Gold engulfed the room. Well, that was all he could see with his limited peripheral. Obnoxious sparkle and twinkles of the warm glow from the light bulbs were angled to bounce off the draping gems. Maxwell sneered, although his expression was covered when he took a sip of the champagne. If he had to breathe one more second in the room, he would throw himself out of the window. Or, if he had been slightly daring with alcohol in his system, he would just throw himself onto the tall tower of gingerly arranged champagne glasses. There had been too many- countless parties thrown at the same party hall, it was starting to get onto his nerves. Maxwell was about to lose it. There had been good memories and without a doubt, bad, but all the man wanted to do was just ram a wrecking ball. 

It was quite rare to see the owner of the Chimtech Consortium alone, lingering in a pack of one. Especially without a date. No one to accompany him. Maxwell sometimes liked it that way. Sure, it could’ve started some burning rumours, but the man has had enough of the business people who went on and on about this and that. The recent pair he had chatted with had gone on and on about their branch they were opening down south. Maxwell was so close to smashing his cup against their heads. 

In the midst of judging people with scurrying, hawk-eyes, Maxwell was pulled to a screeching halt. A sight that caused his blood vessels to pump in a furious speed. The pace sent rapid electric currents to zap around the muscles of his fingers. When he realized that he had been suffocating the neck of the glass, he let out an exasperated huff. He didn’t bother the inconvenient place he had kept the glass, knowing someone who was paid to do the job would clean so. 

A large grin was plastered on Y/N’s lips, almost as if it was wipe-less. Maxwell sniggered, eyes nearly rolling at the sight of the fake facade she was performing. There had never been a moment a single muscle on her lips faltered. Her cheeks must fucking hurt. He couldn’t help but find narrating her thoughts to be amusing. Although he liked jabbing at the mask she paraded around under the grand chandelier, there had been something more infuriating. The arm that subtly rested behind her back. Oh, how bad he wanted to smash his fists on that brunet- Michael. There had been so many things parallel between the two male. Michael was young. Maxwell couldn’t deny that he was ageing, more prominently. 

There had been other points he could consider, but that would only make Michael look less than what he was. Indeed, Maxwell had just snipped his train of thought before the list could even continue. The CEO knew he had everything over Michael. Like the success of the passed-down company was a starter, although, the passed-down part had sounded a bit less... threatening. Even the name ‘Michael’ sounded so bitter, like an overcooked line of meat on a steak. Maxwell reminded himself to make sure there were no Michaels running around his office. It would only bring up memories he didn’t want to remember.

Maxwell pondered if she could feel his eyes on her. Usually, she would’ve noticed. Their discreet eyes meeting across the whole room could never be hindered. The only reason being whatever they participated behind the walls could not just be dusted over with a layer of padded dirt. Unfortunately for him, Y/N hadn’t bothered to pull away from the conversation. 

Maxwell barely had time to process the breeze swerving beside his body. Maybe it had been the disconnection between his brain and the muscles of his legs because he was already midway approaching the woman. He didn’t bother to stop, “Mr Harris! It’s so great to see you here, Michael, Y/N.”

The smile he had claimed to be wipe-less vanished from her face. Just a stoic expression remained. Even though the coverage, Maxwell knew there were a lot more going on behind the mask she yanked up. It could be endless- breaking the one rule (the only Maxwell had decided to prioritize and bothered to remember) they had or to why he had interrupted a well-flowing conversation, “Maxwell, I did not expect you to be here, with you know, your new launch and all.”

Feigning a burst of humoured laughter, Maxwell swatted his hands, “There’s always time for partying.” The eldest man of the four cackled, lungs nearly squeezed out of his ancient chest. The only reaction from the group aside Michael’s pathetic, much more, died-down laugh. 

“There always is, you must enjoy your youth, or else you’ll end up like an old clump, like me.” Michael shook his head, a genuine smile plastered on his face.

“You’re not old, Mr Harris.” 

“Anybody who is called with a ‘Mr’ behind their name is considered old, Michael.” Y/N chuckled.

A second of silence seeped through the bodies, slithering up their spines as they soon lost themselves in the body of water they call thoughts. Something that shouldn’t ever happen. While Michael ran his fingers on the rim of his glass, Maxwell could practically hear the train of thoughts in his mind. The imagination of the boy’s fingers running on the bare body of the woman who remained at the peculiar shape of figures played in his tainted head. Maxwell had seen and he had drum his fingers on every inch of Y/N’s skin. Michael would not be able to do that... or see it. Michael was just a boy. Maxwell was a man. 

The off-toned moaning in his head echoed of Michael’s name. It would never happen. Plus, it wasn’t how she would moan. Maxwell could feel his eyes roll at the teenager’s thoughts (Michael was in his mid-twenties, something Maxwell did not care to acknowledge). Y/N’s and Maxwell’s eyes met, her furrowed eyebrows jabbed at him. They had never been this close in the public, always keeping a safe distance. Now, it felt as if it was only her who had remembered the ground rules. What was he trying to do? 

“Uhm, I’ve got to go.” Neck zapping in a fluid movement, almost as if possessed, Michael’s body swiftly turned away from the group. The warmth of his arm around her waist leaving a spot of a cold kiss. 

Y/N pulled away from her cup, “Where are you going?” She had been too late. Michael had already swum through the crowds of known figures who had hefty-weighed price tags. Red crept up her neck. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Even though she could not see those who were ogling their eyes for the next upcoming rumours of the woman who had been left by her date, she knew something would be the talk of the next day. And that frustrated her. 

“Well, that leaves you with me, baby girl.” With a nod at the astounded Mr Harris, Maxwell’s fingers clasped around Y/N’s wrist. Mouth gaped open, she could see the blurred out walls of shocked guests. Her leg was moving, feet shuffling against the red carpet, but it felt as if the scenery around her was the one to shift. The only thing her eyes had focused on was the back of Maxwell’s creaseless suit and his sleeked back hair. Soon, she was met with the dark canvas of twinkling stars, overlapped by flashing of cameras. It was no longer ‘whatever happens in private- stays in private.’

Stony for 30 or 40? I LOVE U SO MUCH UR FICS GIVE ME LIFE 💛💛👏

AHHHH YAY LIFE!!! you and an anon both requested #30, so here’s some classic tony!angst and protective!steve :3 — I PROMISE THERE IS A VERY MUSHY, VERY HAPPY ENDING

#30: “You’re not worth it.” (TW: child abuse, references to alcoholism, Howard being a shitty human being [but what else is new]) 

***

It’s Wednesday, and Wednesday means movie night at the mansion. A time-honored tradition that goes all the way back to the Avengers’ inception, back when Steve was still finding his way out of the ice—literally and figuratively—and Iron Man and Tony Stark were two different people. 

It’s been a long time since those early days, Tony thinks, watching the new team assemble on the couches, loveseats, beanbag chairs, and blankets strewn around the in-home movie theater. The screen isn’t excessively massive, per Steve’s wishes, but the sound is as good as it gets, per Clint’s; Tony updates the hardware year over year to keep up with the times, especially as film goes the way of digital (much to Steve’s chagrin). 

But tonight is Steve’s pick for movie, and Tony wonders if it was planned that way the moment Luke Cage asks what they’re going to watch and Steve gets that glint in his eye. The one that Tony can recognize from a mile away now without even trying, the one that screams “Steve Rogers is a little shit” and that very few people seem to be able to hear. 

Tony groans the moment Steve grins and says, “Home movies!” while revealing two armfuls of reels from behind his back, some of which are so dusty and small, Tony wonders if they’re Steve’s. 

The team settles in with enough snacks to put a rhino in a coma while Tony and Steve head to the back of the room where the vintage projector Tony pulled out of storage for the occasion awaits. 

“Next week, you can pick the movie,” Steve whispers conspiratorially, bumping Tony with a friendly elbow. Tony has to hold himself back from leaning into Steve in response, the way his body feels primed to do and has done for literal years, ever since—god, since always. But Tony knows his interest and affections are very much one-sided, and Tony doesn’t need to flagellate himself over it any more than he already does with everything else in his life. Plus, watching Steve with each of his girlfriends is more than taxing enough.

He’s had years of practice keeping his feelings for Steve from the man. He can handle an elbow and a wink. That shit’s practically child’s play. 

“If footage from my sweet sixteen made it into this lineup, we’re watching all three Die Hards,” Tony replies with a saccharine smile that makes Steve blanch. 

“Tony, no.” 

“Tony, yes.”

“The last time we watched Die Hard, Clint wouldn’t stop talking with a fake German accent for a week.” 

“I know! It was hilarious, and I want to get it on camera this time so I can send it to Alan Rickman. He’ll hate it.” 

Tony giggles at Steve’s huff, which is really a laugh disguised as exasperation, another one of Steve’s tics Tony knows by heart. The pain and joy of knowing that secretly splits Tony right down the middle—the joy of knowing Steve is a much bigger troll than anyone realizes, the pain of wanting to grab him and kiss him for it—but he hides it all with an elbow to Steve’s ribs and a muttered “jerk” under his breath. 

He’s spent the past ten years and change like this—halved by a love that makes him feel whole, which is an equation that shouldn’t work, but does, because Tony’s math is always right—so what’s one more night? In the grand scheme of things, not much, and every second of it is more than Tony could have ever hoped for. 

Together in the darkest part of the room he and Steve work in tandem to load the first reel onto the projector and let it run: it’s early footage of the first Avengers team, recorded off of a news broadcast. Down in front, the rest of the team throws popcorn and jeers, laughing themselves hoarse at the costumes, the villains, the dialogue—“‘He’s a real ball of fire!’” Clint wheezes from his beanbag before Natasha pelts him with Milk Duds—while Steve and Tony sit back behind the projector, shoulder to shoulder, running their own private commentary all the while:  

“I miss that armor.”

“Shut up, no you don’t.” 

“It’s true! Anyways, isn’t vintage all the rage these days? You should bring it back.” 

“I’m not bringing back Pointy-Faced Iron Man and his Roller Skates of Doom, Cap.” 

“Not even for me?” 

Tony slides Steve a look out of the corner of his eye, face still directed toward the screen, a classic are you fucking kidding me? if there ever was one. Steve bats his eyelashes in response, because of course he does. Unfortunately for Steve, Tony is mostly immune to that tactic by now. 

Mostly. 

“Let us watch Die Hard next week and I’ll consider it.” 

“Ugh, Tony…”

“Hey, heart-eyes! Next reel!” someone (see: Bucky) shouts. Not for the first time, Tony’s glad to be concealed in relative darkness back here—even Steve’s enhanced vision won’t be able to make out the blush Tony’s knows is all over his face right now. He also gets a reprieve from sitting so close to Steve, hyperfocused on his warmth and all of the sensory trappings of home that come with it, while he swaps out the old reel for a new one. New-er, rather. He doesn’t look at the case or look at any frames before feeding it through the projector. 

“Alright, you rabble-rousers, pipe down,” he shouts as the image on screen flickers to life. 

“‘Rabble-rousers’?” Steve quirks an eyebrow at him as he sits back down. Tony folds his arms over his chest and shushes him. 

“Don’t start.”

“Ooh, is that you, Tony?” Wanda coos from her place on the loveseat next to Vision. 

“Look at all of that hair! Danny Zuko’s got nothing on you, Stark,” Clint laughs. Tony nails him with a popcorn kernel right in the ear.

The footage unspools, harmless—albeit embarrassing—at first: it’s a home movie from when Tony was young, no more than eight or nine. He’s wearing what looks like the remains of what was once a nice suit, something his parents forced him into, probably, but devolved into undershirt and slacks and suspenders hanging down past his knees. He really was a gangly kid, wasn’t he? 

Tony laughs along with everyone else, warmed by Jarvis’ voice offscreen telling “Young Master Anthony” to show off his latest invention for the camera. He feels Steve’s eyes flicker over to land on him whenever young Tony smiles at the camera or laughs at something Jarvis says, but Tony ignores it. Mostly.

“He reminds me of Steve,” Bucky tells the room when young Tony is shown with a replica of Cap’s shield, posing triumphantly to the sound of Jarvis’ delighted laughter. Jess aww’s. 

“He does, kinda, doesn’t he?” 

“How have I never seen these before?” Steve whispers, leaning closer as he does. Tony swallows hard against the shiver that ricochets down his spine hearing that low voice in his ear. 

“A lot of things of mine you haven’t seen, Cap,” he replies, too late to stop the innuendo from slipping out. He looks at Steve after he says it and almost, almost lets out a gasp: when did Steve get so close? And why is he looking at Tony like that? All intense and considering? 

“Oh, here’s someone else I remember,” Bucky laughs. Tony turns away from Steve, grateful for the excuse, and starts to release the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

It gets caught in his chest the moment he sees himself filling up the screen, young Tony standing alone in Howard’s office, having perched the camcorder on the big oak desk to record himself with Cap’s shield—the real one this time, not a toy. On screen, Tony has his back to the camera, the vibranium shield clutched in his too-small hands. He has to perch it on the floor, its weight just enough to counterbalance Tony’s, but holding it…even now, he remembers the thrill of that first time. The cool touch of vibranium humming under his fingers, the knowledge that he was holding his hero’s greatest treasure…his adult fingers clench against his thighs at the memory. 

But then, the image shifts into a sharper memory still, and Tony feels something old and awful claw its way from somewhere deep in his chest, remembering all too well what comes next. It tastes like bourbon and cigar smoke and the metallic taste blood leaves on the tongue after you’ve been smacked in the mouth. Tony’s hands fly out to clutch the sides of his chair and stick there; he can’t move them to stop the projector in time. It just keeps playing out, each frame worse than the one before. 

Of course he remembers this moment. He remembers it perfectly, because it was the first time Howard really hurt him. Not with his hands, although the bruises did linger longer than usual, after. 

This was the moment when Tony, so tender and impressionable even at that “advanced” age, learned what his father really thought of him. 

That old, awful feeling feels a lot like drowning when he thinks of Steve seeing what’s about to happen, let alone the rest of the team.

“I’m Captain America and I’m here to save you!”

“You’re not saving shit, boy.” Howard stumbles into frame like a bad Vaudeville performer, slurring Tony’s name like an expletive. “Put that down, you fucking brat. You’re not worth it.” 

The blood rushing in Tony’s ears drowns out the sound of voices past and present. All he can see is Howard filling the frame in that horrible tan suit, gripping a bottle of bourbon by the neck. The image catches on young Tony’s terrified expression, the way he hides behind the shield that’s almost as big as he is. He watches his own mouth move—Cap will save me, he’d cried, so confident, so certain that his hero would come and put Howard through the wall and carry Tony away to safety—and then down the bottle comes…

“Turn it off! I said turn it off!” 

Something hits the projector hard enough to not only knock it off the table it was sitting on, but send both hurtling across the room. They smash to pieces against the far wall with a noisy clatter that almost stops Tony’s heart in his chest. 

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the thwap-thwap-thwap of film smacking the floor as the reel spins on and on until coming to a feeble stop. He can hear breathing, heavy and labored and sliding quickly toward panic, and he realizes with a shuddering gasp that it’s him making that sound.

Tony looks up and sees Steve standing where the projector once was, cradling his bleeding hand. The man looks stricken, pale and horrified, worse than if he’d seen a ghost; behind him, the team has inched closer, all of them wearing varying expressions of distress and pity and guilt and sadness, and suddenly Tony can’t bolt out of his chair fast enough. He can’t get away fast enough. He follows his feet out of the room into the corridor and down, down, down to the workshop where it’s safe, where he can’t get in, no one can, not unless Tony lets them. 

Someone is calling his name, but Tony disappears down the stairs before he can figure out who. He bursts through doors he can’t see and staggers over to the closest workbench, sucking in deep, ragged breaths like he can’t catch up to them. Is that a screw loose in his chest cavity, he wonders, gasping, because that rattling sound seems to indicate something has come undone that shouldn’t have. Howard’s dead, Tony reminds himself, over and over again. It’s a fact as true as any algorithm, so why won’t it take? 

JARVIS’s voice moves gently through the noise in Tony’s brain: “Sir, Captain Rogers is asking permission to enter.” 

Steve. 

Tony can’t decide if the thought of Steve seeing him like this helps or worsens the rattling in his chest. Either way he feels like shit, but only one of those ways ends up with Captain America pitying him, or worse. 

He’s so caught up in thinking about all the ways this could backfire he doesn’t realize JARVIS has let Steve into the workshop, regardless of Tony’s feelings on the matter. The realization sets in when Steve’s voice appears close to his ear, soft and low with a frisson of urgency, like he too is slightly out of breath. 

“Tony, it’s just me. It’s okay. I’m going to put my hand on your back.” 

Warmth spreads from Steve’s fingers through Tony’s shirt and into the skin high up on his back between his shoulders. Steve can probably feel how fast Tony’s heart is racing, but spares him his overt concern and instead keeps telling Tony what he’s going to do before he does it: a hand on Tony’s forehead, an arm around his back, asking JARVIS to turn the lights down to thirty-five percent. 

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” 

Tony sags into Steve’s touch, his large, warm hand cradling Tony’s head like something precious; the deeper dark quiets the room around them, makes it less overwhelming, less full of ghosts waiting to cast their own opaque shadows on the empty walls. Tony and Steve are left standing in a dim light Tony knows makes him look sallow; he wavers on his feet, left to borrow from Steve’s strength because he can’t find his own. Lucky for Tony, Steve is right there, braced and ready for anything. Like always.

The rattling has settled somewhat, but Tony still has to rely on Steve to tell him when to breathe and how deeply. He forgets, sometimes, that Steve has experience dealing with panic attacks, which so often came before an asthma attack. Steve once told him that even years removed from his sickly days, he still remembers what it’s like to lose that grip on reality, feeling the heart too acutely as it beats against too-brittle ribs.

While Steve draws on those memories often enough with others on the team, it’s a rare occasion for Tony to be on the receiving end of Steve’s nursing hand like this. Jokes or angry silence over cuts, breaks, and bruises, sure, but this? Tender hands and a voice pitched low and soothing, lullaby-soft, speaking words of gentle encouragement? Tony’s head feels light with it. 

“Do you want to sit down?” Steve asks. Tony shakes his head against his palm. “Okay,” Steve whispers, his voice the only one in the room, which makes for a funny kind of one-sided conversation. Then, before he can think better of it, Tony turns toward Steve, wraps his arms around the man’s impossible waist, and hugs himself close to Steve’s radiating heat. He’s too gone for shame, and too weak; a soft, gentle Steve is hard to resist, even on good days. And this just became a no good, very bad day.

Fucking Howard.

Steve, for his part, takes the hug in stride like they do it every day. Tony likes to imagine it, touching Steve like this whenever he wants to, but that’s all it is—a fantasy. Just like being with Steve is a fantasy, one Tony has entertained for far too many years to count. He satisfies himself with Steve’s friendship, tells himself it’s enough, and if he happens to sleep with the occasional look-alike, that’s nobody’s business but Tony’s (and JARVIS’s, and in one deeply unfortunate instance, Pepper’s). 

Strangers want Tony Stark, the celebrity; Steve wants Tony as a friend and teammate. That’s all. So Tony steals his nice, platonic hug as he trembles and breathes his way out of a panic attack, being careful to avoid nuzzling the soft notch at the base of Steve’s throat the way he wants to. Badly.

He’s so preoccupied with holding all the disparate parts of himself together and hiding them so Steve can’t see, he doesn’t notice Steve’s hands start to rub his back in long, soothing strokes until Tony is half-melted in his steady arms, weak-kneed at how comforted he feels. Steve doesn’t say anything—just keeps moving his hands, up and down Tony’s back, across his shoulders, along his arms, and over again. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this, without motive, ulterior or otherwise; his skin feels warm down to his toes.

“Better?” Steve murmurs. Tony nods against his chest. He doesn’t let go. Neither does Steve, who seems to fold himself over Tony until they’re more like one person than two, standing there breathing together in Tony’s darkened workshop. 

Slowly, thoughts of Howard, of hurt, start to melt back into the shadows. In their place is Steve, filling up all of Tony’s empty spaces with light, even some of the ones he didn’t know he had. For such a strong man, Steve is unbearably gentle, handling Tony the way he might handle spun sugar or thin glass. Tony has never felt so genuinely cared for, and the fact that he can’t pull back and thank Steve with a kiss smarts a little in the face of it. 

That is, it does, up until the moment he feels Steve brush a kiss against where Tony’s hairline meets his forehead, soft and uncomplicated, but lingering, like Steve wants to stay there. To do more. Tony knows that move because he’s imagined doing the exact same thing to Steve, god, thousands of times.

Tony wants so much. Too much. Asking Steve for this would tip things precariously toward the latter. But the question is taken out of Tony’s hands the moment one of Steve’s perches itself under his jaw and tilts his face up.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. 

“It’s ancient history,” Tony replies, maintaining eye contact through sheer willpower when all he wants to do is look at Steve’s mouth, now so close to his. 

“Not to you, it isn’t,” Steve counters, and there’s not much Tony can say to that. “I’ll talk to the team. They might have questions, and you shouldn’t have to answer them. Not tonight, anyways.” 

“I know you’ve got big shoulders, Steve, but you don’t have to take on my baggage on top of everything else.”

As they talk, their bodies never move an inch apart; chests pressed flush against each other, Steve’s fingers splayed along the side of Tony’s neck. All of it—the proximity, the tenderness, the intimacy—feels as natural as the breathing they just did together. Ten-plus years of friendship will do that. But then, the way Steve is looking at him doesn’t really scream friendship. 

It kind of screams I love you. 

Steve gives him that little smirk and says, “Maybe I want to.” Tony scoffs, flicking one of the shoulders in question for good measure. 

“God, how are you still such a horrible liar, Cap? Is there something in the serum that makes it impossible for you to keep a good poker face?”

“This is my good poker face,” Steve replies, and there it is again, the same look Steve gave him earlier before the night spun out like a race car with its wheels blown off: intense, considering, and so, so close. 

Tony swallows nothing but air. Steve, never breaking eye contact, cards his fingers through the hair on the back of Tony’s head and holds them there. 

“If I kiss you right now, will you have another panic attack?” he asks quietly. Not even a blink. The part of Tony’s brain—a scant centimeter, at best—that isn’t currently blasting a hundred sirens at full volume is actually kind of impressed.

“I doubt it,” Tony replies evenly. “I’ll probably just pass out.” 

The smirk becomes a full-blown grin. Steve squeezes his other arm around Tony’s lower back and hums, deep and resonant, in his chest as he leans down to brush his lips feather-softly against Tony’s. 

“You fall, I’ll catch you,” he whispers before dipping in for a proper kiss that floods Tony’s head with incandescent light. It’s chaste and measured and burning with mutual restraint, tastes faintly of the buttered popcorn Steve ate earlier, and the only way it could be better is if it never ended. 

Tony tightens his arms around Steve’s waist, and when Steve pulls away to speak, he doesn’t go far, seemingly content to stand there in Tony’s embrace in the middle of the dimly lit workshop. 

“Still breathing?” he asks. Tony smiles; Steve smiles back. 

“Takes a lot more than that to knock the wind out of me, Cap.”

The way Steve’s eyes darken at that little remark is definitely something Tony intends to investigate further, later. For now, he leans into the hand now resting on his cheek and sighs. 

“We’ll test that theory another time,” Steve husks before leaning forward to press a kiss to each eyelid. Tony hums happily, sinking further into Steve’s arms. “Can I carry you to bed?” 

Tony gives him a look. “I’m heavy,” he says. 

Steve just smiles, kisses Tony like he’s been doing it forever, and replies: “You’re worth it.”

- - - 

see? happy endings. fuck howard. 

From the creators of “Lydia found out she can upload pictures and gifs into your ask box” here comes “Lydia found out she can submit text and stop spamming you with so many asks”.

Because, my love, get ready, this is really something. And I’m sending it today because I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, I’ll work half day and then I’ll go get new glasses because your girl is going blind and annoyed.

Please just answer this whenever you want, no pressure, this is.. a lot. I’m sorry in advance.

First of all, my data finished because of tete’s vlive, I didn’t noticed they were on instead of my wifi, I felt so stupid lol, but girl DID YOU SEE, is it me or does he looks more mature and holy shit so sexy ?????? what the fuck Taehyung, I’m actually asking, what the fuck? I want to know what is up with the fuck.

In other news, Jin and poopsie are moving in together. I’m in love and I’m totally Peaches chasing down that cup to put it in the trash. I do that, does Peaches also slow down when a pigeon is walking in front of her? bc I do that, they just don’t care and I’m like ok fine pigeon go ahead, they’re funny lol- but that was just lovely, I can’t stop thinking about how GOOD tae looks, although I laughed bc if there’s something my mom hates is when anyone makes noises while eating and Tae is the master of it. I kid you not, my mom wants to slap me and gets SO angry when I do it (I do it just to mess with her lol) but yeah, I’ve shown her videos of tae eating like that and she’s like NO, GOD NO! it’s so funny! because she loves him and doesn’t want to see him doing that, I think he looks adorable and maybe I would slap him too but hey, he enjoys food. He a baby. Must protect.

And in other/other news, you killed me with hobi/petal because I started writing this right before you post that and now I’m just adding it in here: you killed me because, I was just starting to go about those pandemic and awful year topic, I was reading it in the bathroom and I almost cry, my precious babies!! T_T and OH! how much I want to go for a walk! I need it, yesterday I walked a little, but didn’t enjoy it, we were just getting lost looking for the pizza place.

But srsly, walking is so good ??, months ago I could feel my anxiety burning my soul, it was awful and one morning on my way to work we always saw people exercising and stuff and I realized all I wanted to do was RUN. so we started going for walks in the afternoon after I got off work (we stopped for a while bc A LOT OF SHIT HAPPENED) but that first day I walked like no one else lol, I could feel my thighs crying but hell I wasn’t stopping, and I just felt so so so so much better! it was amazing.

Well, there ya go, a health tip: go for walks, if you have a dog I think it’s better, I saw so many dogs I was thriving lol. Now my knees are killing me because they do nothing but sit all day.

But yeah, as I was saying: Liv, I’ve missed you, and I would love to say that it was because I’ve been busy or doing something fruitful BUT NO, I’ve been like a zombie these past 2 weeks because I’ve slept till late some nights and everything’s weird, christmas was fun but also weird, my cousin couldn’t be home bc covid and it’s just weird, then I couldn’t see my bf till yesterday bc he was sick (not covid), and I don’t know, it’s like everything is fine but it still feels weird, you know? Petal says this shitty year is coming to an end but damn if I enjoyed the fact that I found Bts, I don’t remember what it was like before and I don’t care.

I’m so grateful, I was a big one direction fan, but I can’t compare, you know? I was younger, I was in school, I was a different person. And now, I’m still young *cough*, but I’m not in school, I have a job and I’m different, and in a lot of moments when I need it, BTS say “hey, love yourself!” every chance they get! and even if there are a lot more moments when I think “I can’t, nope, not now” I probably don’t love myself like I should, but I can say that I WANT TO, and I never make new year’s resolutions, I don’t want it to be a “I’ll do it next year” thing, but maybe I’ll take that will and aspire for something. This year Covid was the least of my problems, family, friendships and relationships have been fucking HARD and I am freaking scared, not gonna lie, there are a lot of things I have to think about, to decide and act on. But I’m also grateful I have other friendships that I got to renew and helped me keep going. So so grateful.

And I’m so grateful for you, I’m happy I found you because believe me when I say you helped a lot too. Just the thought that I can come here and express whatever thing, whatever novel I write for you: from how sexy I think Hobi is - to also have the trust and talk about anything else, even when we don’t really know each other, I don’t expect to get anything back from you but I get so much and it’s refreshing so THANK YOU for that.

I got a little cheesy, I want to cry. But I mean it. I appreciate the hell out of you and your existence. This is me, I can start by saying Hey Tae’s so sexy and finish with I love you, Liv. I wish you forever happiness.

Happy new year, queen!! 🍾

Here’s a picture of my Christmas tree last night with it’s new lights because the ones I bought last year failed on me and I was so angry I went to amazon and bought these for 25 dlls! - And a picture of my cat (her name is Spinelli) from last christmas, because well… I thought the world should see her, she cute.

(I promise I won’t do this often, I’ll send normal asks. I just thought it would be easier lol)

Stay safe ♥

Hello my lovely Lydia!! I’m cackling about what you said about Tae because those are my constant thoughts lmao. Like how in the fuck is this man so sexy??? And he has that intensity about him just my fucking god Kim Taehyung. The man you are today, sir. I am quite literally in love with him. Also I’m giggling at your mom’s reaction to how he eats- I can definitely see how it would annoy some people haha. I adore the way he eats, the pout :(( he looks so pure when he’s eating I just wanna kiss his cheeks lol. 

Yay for Jin and Poopsie!!! And honestly, Peaches is so relatable for the quirky little things she does and how embarrassed she gets for doing them lol. She probably would stop for pigeons- also that’s adorable, you’re cute. 

I’m glad you discovered that walking makes you feel good and healthy!! It definitely does, I need to start working out more in general. I used to be really consistent but ugh this pandemic has killed all motivation for fitness haha. 

I’ve missed you too!! I definitely understand the zombie-like state, with the end of the year along with a pandemic and then just regular day to day life, it’s a miracle any of us are functioning these days. And exactly, even though it was a shitty year, I hope there’s something we can all be thankful for or look back at as a positive. Find those dang silver linings!! Mine would be that I got more in touch with myself again. I think I’m finally on track for being enough for myself and being my own source of strength and happiness and that was my goal for this year. So even though this year fucked us all up quite a bit, at least I have that. And of course, always thankful to bts lol. I can’t believe I’ve been a fan for three years now, how fucking crazy is that?! 

I’m sorry this year was tough on you beyond COVID, I’m wishing for better times for you in the new year. You absolutely deserve to love yourself and I hope you get to the point where that can be true. But honestly, wanting to do so is fucking fabulous. Keep going, Lyd! 

Lastly!! I’m so so so grateful that you found my blog and actually sent me asks, like oh my god I love seeing you pop up in my notifications and inbox. It makes me so happy. You’re an amazing person, my love, and I’m very thankful to know you. Thank you for not only supporting my work but for being an absolute gem to talk to!! I adore you <3 thank you for your friendship, even if just on this silly app. I hope you’re happy this year and beyond! 

p.s. your tree is so pretty and YOUR CAT IS THE CUTEST LITTLE FLUFF BALL I LOVE HER!!! Give sweet lil Spinelli a cuddle for me <3 

Stockings Over the Fireplace

This is my last submission for @panicfob​‘s #25DaysofChristmas 

Prompt: Stockings over the fireplace

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Bucky has to leave on a mission in the middle of decoration shopping with you. He doesn’t make it home until Christmas Eve, but you have an even better present for him.

“Oh! I love this.” You gasp, rushing over to the shelf. It’s an old decoration, big and heavy. It depicts multiple Christmas carolers standing in the crisp white snow under an old fashioned gas lamp. “Are you sure?” Bucky picks it up and it’s heavy, even for him. “It’s kind of old.” He starts and you look at him with those damn eyes and tempting smirk. “I like old things. My mom has one like this.” Your fingers curl into his jacket and he knows he’s screwed.

“Yeah, alright.” He sighs and you grin, kissing him sweetly. “How come I can never say no to you?” He frowns, resting his chin on your shoulder, and his arms around your waist. “Because I’m cute? And you love me too much.” You reply, reverently picking up the decoration and setting it in the cart. Your hands drift back to a small decoration, a musical round base with figures ice skating on top. You twist the knob underneath and pull the stopper out. The song starts to play and the little people move across the surface, twisting and spinning. You lean back into his arms with a contented sigh. “There’s no such thing as loving you too much, baby.” He whispers, placing the music box in the cart. But you’re right, you’re cute and he adores the way your face lights up when he gives in to you. You twist in his arms, resting your head on his chest. “Is it super lame that I’m really excited for our first Christmas together?” You ask, twisting your foot nervously. “Well, if it is, we can be lame together.” He smiles. “Oh, thank god.” You sigh. “We need stockings for the fireplace.” You say, twisting your face into his coat and inhaling deep. “For just the two of us? Isn’t that a little silly?” He asks. “No, Steve and Sam and Tony and the others are coming over. Except for Clint. He’s gonna be with his family. And Nat is going over there for dinner, but she’s coming over to our place in the morning.” You say, your face breaking into a wide smile, hand wandering to his butt. “Our place.” “Whoa.” He jumps at the playful squeeze. “Alright. We can get them stockings.” He agrees, grabbing your wrist. “Yay!” You squeal, pulling away and pushing the cart. His phone rings in his pocket and he sees you freeze, looking over at him, your beautiful smile fading. He digs his phone out and internally groans at Steve’s picture. “Hey, Steve.” He answers and you huff in annoyance. “Hey, man. I know I promised you the weekend, but there’s a complication in Norway.” His best friend says and he wants to slap him. “How long?” He asks, keeping his eye trained on your back. Your shoulders are visibly tense and he can only pray that it’s a short trip this time. “Undetermined. Wheels up in 30. Maria’s coming to pick you up.” He pauses on the line. “Tell Y/N I’m sorry.” He adds. “You’ll have to tell her that yourself, punk.” He sighs. He hangs up and slowly makes his way towards you. He’s about to say something, but your sniffle stops him dead and he winces as if you slapped him. “How long?” You mumble. “I don’t know.” He admits as he watches your hands ball into fists on the handle of the shopping cart. “Baby,” He starts and your shoulders hunch, you brush at your eyes. This hurts him worse than any slap or shouting match. It’s only a few seconds before you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him to death.

“You better come back to me. Uninjured, sir.” You mutter, fingers curling into his hair desperately. “Yes, ma’am.” He mumbles, squeezing you tight. “I love you so much.” He backs away slowly, knowing Maria will be here in a moment. You pull him back to you, kissing him with all your might. “You better take care of my heart, since you’re taking it with you.” Your cheeks are wet, you’re so upset that your chest is quivering as you try to fight your tears. He brushes your cheeks gently, ignoring the phone ringing in my pocket. “I promise.” He pulls his gold card out of his wallet and presses it into your palm. “Buy anything you want. I’ll help you decorate when I get home.” He says, tipping your head down, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I love you.” He makes sure that it’s the last thing he says to you. Before every mission, he makes sure that you always know how he feels. He heads for the front of the store, shouldering the door open. Maria is parked out front in a big black SUV, waiting for him. He heaves himself in and slams the door. She takes off, heading for the private runway. “Packed you a bag. Nice boxers.” She smirks. “You know I keep a go bag ready in my closet.” He rolls his eyes. She does this every time. “Yeah, but I like to snoop. You can tell a lot about a man by his underwear.” She says mildly and he can’t tell if she’s joking. “Here.” She pulls a ziplock bag out of the middle of the seats and drops it onto his thigh. “Tell Y/N thanks for the cookies.” She says as he tucks the bag into his pocket for later. “You’ll have to tell her yourself. You have her number.” He reminds her. “I know.” “Find anything else you liked in my house?” He continues dryly. “Oh, absolutely.” Her phone dings and she checks it quickly before rearranging her expression “I have to find out where Y/N gets all her lingerie.” She waggles her eyebrows at him. “I’m sure that will be a fun conversation.” He grins. “Who was the text from?” “Y/N. Told me to watch your back.” She looks at him with a smirk as she pulls onto the highway. *** T W O W E E K S L A T E R The hotel gym was empty; the way Bucky prefers it. He jumps on the elliptical, deciding that today can be leg day. They’re two weeks into this mission, currently waiting on some intel before they can move. You’ve been sending him pictures of the decorations, asking what he likes or doesn’t like. It makes him feel a little better, almost as if he’s there with you. Almost. Sam and Steve join him a few minutes later. He ignores them as long as he can, but their eyes are like ants crawling over his skin. “What?” He snaps, turning to glare at them each in turn. “How’s it going?” Sam asks casually. “We’re in fucking Norway. Two weeks from Christmas.” He rolls his eyes, picking up the pace. “How d’ya think I’m doing, Wilson?” “I think you’re a sour wolf.” He grins. He stares at him. Coming to a stop, he climbs off and walks over to his bag, pulling out the last cookie. His eyes widen as he stares at Bucky in panic. “Hey, Buck, come on, man. I was only joking.” He tries to backtrack quickly. He breaks the cookie in half and walk over to the other side of Steve, handing him half while glaring at Sam. “Thanks, pal,” Steve says happily, shoving the whole thing into his mouth. Sam all but squeaks in shock and horror as it disappears. His eyes dart to his hand and Sam bolts off the machine as he crams the cookie in his mouth, fending Bird Brain off with his metal arm. He kicks his legs out from under him and they both topple to the ground. He chews while pushing his face away. “Sam, do you really want it now?” Steve chuckles and Sam rolls away with a groan. Bucky clambers back up and gets back on his machine. “Jerk.” He sighs. “How’s Y/N holding up?” Steve asks, glancing at Bucky. “Says she’s okay. Wants us to come back now. Apparently, you guys are coming over on Christmas Day.” He tells them. “Oh yeah. We were invited before you were, Tin Man.” Sam grins and he wants to trip him, just a little. “She went to the movies today, dunno what she saw, though.” He says, ignoring Wilson. “When will she be home?” His best friend asks. “Not for another hour or two,” Bucky replies. A voice in the hallway draws his attention, Steve’s a split second later. “No, I know. I can’t believe I’ve managed this long. I’m about to-” Maria Hill walks into the gym on her phone and stops dead when she sees the three of them. “No, I’m still here.” She mutters and Sam grins. “Who are you talking to, Maria?” He asks. “Your mom, Wilson. She says, what was that? Oh yeah, mind your own business.” She snaps. “I swear, getting any privacy in this place is impossible.” “The roof is good if you need to be alone,” Bucky tells her. “Just prop the cinderblock in front of the door.” “Thanks, Barnes.” She turns and leaves. He frowns, looking at Steve. “She’s been acting so weird, ever since we got here,” Bucky says and Steve nods. “She’s always on the phone. Two days ago, she answered a call in the middle of taking out those two guys.” Steve says. “Nearly bit my head off when I asked about it.” Sam agrees. “We should find out what she’s up to,” Steve says, hopping off the machine. Sam readily agrees, following him. “Just so you know, this is a terrible idea,” Bucky warns, following them. But he has at least an hour until you’re out of your movie, so to kill some time, he’ll do some snooping. They head up the stairs to the top floor, not really sneaking. Once they reach the top, he leads his idiot friends over to the roof door. He stops dead when he realizes that it’s closed. Did she forget the cinderblock? He motions for them to wait as he opens the door. Bucky digs out his phone as he props the door open. If she’s out here, he can just say that he wanted some privacy to call his wife. He walks around the outside, but there’s no sign of her. He makes his way back to the idiots and shrugs. “Spies.” Sam snorts and they head back for their rooms so he can shower and call you. *** T W O W E E K S L A T E R CHRISTMAS EVE “Good job, everyone,” Stark says as they leave the jet. “Barnes, get home in one piece so I don’t have to sleep with one eye open, yeah?” He grins. “Your girl terrifies me.” He rolls his eyes and climbs into the company car. “She should.” He mutters, gesturing for the driver to go, ignoring his nervousness. It’s late, long after dinner, but you know he’s on his way and you promised you’d stay up. Christ, he misses you so much. He’s sore all over and he can’t wait to shower and just fall into your bed. He jerks awake as the car comes to a sudden stop and he looks around, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, sir. The car ahead of us-” The driver starts timidly, gesturing to the brake lights in front of us. He glances around, recognizing his surroundings. “It’s alright. I’ll walk from here. It’s not far.” He yawns, grabbing his bag. “But, sir.” “Go home. Merry Christmas. Go be with your family. I’m just around the corner.” He says, swinging the door shut and giving a wave. He hikes his bag over his shoulder and makes his way home. His legs ache, his back is pinching and pulling with every step. He reaches the front walk and smiles to himself. The house looks perfect, lights line the front porch, changing the puffy snow to bright colors. The front living room light is on, casting an orange glow over the front yard. Your carolers' ornament is front and center in the bay window and he can’t help but smile. He heads up the walkway and opens the front door. You’re standing at the end of the front hall, eyes bright. You’re gonna cry, he can already tell. Despite how anxious you are to have him home, you’re giving him space, holding yourself back. The front hall is decorated simply, Christmas cards from your family and friends. The glass of the stained-glass window is frosted with some sort of washable spray. A round ball of mistletoe is hanging from the dome light fixture halfway between you. He drops his bag and stares at you. He shrugs out of his jacket with a loud sigh before kicking off his boots. “How is it that I leave you and you get more beautiful?” He groans. You laugh while rolling your eyes as he turns to face you, holding out his arms. “Okay, let me have it.” He says and you step forward, slipping gently into his arms. You kiss him softly, your hands cupping his face. “Mmm. I was expecting you to be a little more... enthusiastic.” He murmurs, burying his face in your hair. “I know you hurt. I’ll jump on you later.” You reply, resting your head on his chest. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He sighs, holding you close. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nice, relaxing shower? When you’re ready, I’ll give you a nice back massage in front of the fireplace.” You suggest, pulling back and picking up a glass of whiskey. You place it gently in his hand, kissing his lips. “I’m glad you’re home safe and sound.” You lead him through the house and he pauses, looking at the tree. “You decorated everything?” He asks and you tilt your head. “Not entirely. I left the star for you. It didn’t feel right. I waited as long as I could.” You bite your lip and he pulls you against his side, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Next year, I’m telling Steve no more missions for the holidays.” He sighs. “Wanna shower with me?” He asks and you smile. “Not tonight. Go relax. I’ll be here when you come back down.” You promise. He kisses you deeply again, pulling you flush against him. Your hands start to creep up his neck, tugging at his hair before you pull back. “Nice try, mister.” You say breathlessly and he grins, not even bothering to feign innocence. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He heads up the stairs to get ready for his shower. The hot water beats down on his shoulders, working out the knots as best it can. Finally, he decides he’s soaked long enough and climbs out. He dries off and cleans up the bathroom before pulling on a pair of low riding pajama pants. He downs his drink before going back downstairs. You’ve started a fire in the brick fireplace, a massive number of stockings crowding the mantle. You must have heard him behind you, because you turn, eyes widening slightly. “Oh.” You murmur and he raises an eyebrow. “Oh?” He questions. “Is it too late to take you up on that joint shower?” You ask and he laughs. “Little bit, doll. Sorry.” You grin and gesture to the makeshift ‘bed’ you’ve made on the floor. He lowers himself down and looks up at you. “How do you want me, gorgeous?” He asks. “On your stomach. Anything else and you won’t get much of a massage.” You admit and he grins. “I’m fine with that.” “Stomach, Sarge.” You order and he groans as he shifts onto his stomach, laying down. You straddle his hips and he’s fairly certain one of you is facing the wrong way. Your hands are like fucking magic as you start at his neck, working out all the stiffness. He sighs contentedly as you work down his back, paying special attention to his shoulders, the scars that mark him. You’ve never shied away from any part of him. Jesus, he loves you. He lets his eyes drift closed, relishing in the feel of being home with the woman he loves, having your hands on him. It’s been too long. The longer you work, the more his muscles turn to actual puddles under your expert fingers. A moan escapes and you chuckle, laying down on his back, cheek resting against his shoulder. “Feel better?” “Mmm, much.” He sighs and you tilt your head, pressing kisses along his skin, across his back to his metal shoulder. “I love you so much.” You mumble. “I love you, too.” He smiles. Your lips trail over his scars for a few more minutes before you push yourself up. He misses the feel of you. “I have to pee. You should put on a shirt before you catch a cold.” You say, disappearing into the kitchen. “You know I don’t get sick.” He calls, pushing himself up. You gasp loudly. “Quick, knock on wood before a super big gets you!” He laughs, knocking on the door frame as he jogs up the stairs to grab a shirt. “Do you want some cocoa?” You call up the stairs. “Absolutely!” He calls back, about to slide his drawer closed when he realizes that your wedding picture is missing off the dresser. He frowns, looking around until he realizes it’s laying on his pillow. He smiles to himself and places it back in the center of his dresser. “Sweet girl.” He mutters, pulling his shirt on and heading back downstairs. “Baby?” He calls. “Living room.” You reply and he walks in, finding you in front of the fireplace. He wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling into your neck. “Were you missing me?” “Yeah. You found the wedding photo, I assume?” “Yeah. I put it back.” “Now that I have the real thing.” You sigh, leaning back against him. “Do we really need so many stockings?” He asks and you nod. “Yes. I’ve labeled them already.” You say with a gesture. He takes a step forward to read the names decorating the stockings. “Uncle Steve, Aunty Natasha, Uncle Sa-am,” He stutters. “Keep going.” You urge, holding onto his wrists. “Uncle Tony, Aunty Maria, Uncle Thor, Aunty Laura, Uncle Clint, Mommy, Dad-dy,” his voice breaks and he knows he’s squeezing you too hard, harder than he should be. “Last one.” You prompt. “Baby Barnes 7•12•20.” He looks down at you, his vision going blurry. You cover your mouth, hiding a smile so wide your cheeks just might crack. “Are you serious? I’m not being pranked?” “Not the kind of prank I would pull.” You roll your eyes and his gaze drops to your stomach. “When did you find out?” “About a week before you left. I was going to tell you but then you had to leave and I didn’t want to distract you. I made Maria promise she wouldn’t say anything.” “Maria?” His eyes snap back to yours. “She always gets your bag. I knew she would have found the test; she’s always snooping. I made her promise to let me be the one to tell you.” “Have you been talking to her this whole time?” “Yeah. She was helping me, got me into Stark’s medical lab for checkups and prenatal care. The stockings were her idea.” You say, starting to look nervous. “I knew she was acting weird.” He mutters. “I can’t believe you’re really pregnant.” He rests his hands on your abdomen reverently and you search his face. “You’re happy?” You ask apprehensively. “Happy? Baby, I’m fucking thrilled!” He picks you up and kisses your face all over. You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Oh, thank god.” “I can’t believe you. You shouldn’t have been waiting on me like that, sweetheart.” He frowns, setting you back down. “I’m alright. I wanted to. I knew you’d be tired and sore. I wanted to make you feel good. You do so much for me, Bucky. This was the least I could do, make our home feel like an actual home, like when we were kids. I know we grew up in different times, but it’s not so different.” “How did I get so lucky?” He mumbles, pulling you close again. “I dunno.” You shrug and he laughs. “Can we go to bed? I really missed you.” He sighs. “Let’s go. We have a big day tomorrow.” You take his hand and lead him up to your bed. *** Bucky groans as his alarm goes off. He slaps at his phone and you shift against him with a whine. “Make it stop.” You complain. “We have to get up.” He mutters, finally finding the off button. “People are coming over. Steve’s gonna want coffee.” You groan, burying your face in his chest. “Round three was a mistake.” “It was your idea.” He laughs. You push yourself up and straddle his hips with a grin. “I know. You should know better than to give me what I want.” He grips your thighs, already willing to give you round four as soon as you say the words. But then you swing your leg over, climbing off the bed. “Tease.” He sighs. “You start the coffee? I’ll start the breakfast pizza.” You kiss his forehead before grabbing some clothes and heading down the hall to the bathroom. He gets up, straightening the blankets on the bed before pulling on a fresh pair of pajama pants and a plain white shirt. The kitchen tiles are cold on his bare feet as he makes his way to the coffee pot. A round of nerves spikes through him as he thinks about the day ahead. He turns the coffee on and gets out a bunch of mugs. There’s a knock on the door and you come down the stairs. “I’ve got it.” You call. You open the front door and it sounds like everyone showed up at once. “Bucky’s in the kitchen with the coffee. Yes, Steven, there will be enough coffee for everyone.” You sigh and he just has to laugh. Bucky’s friends come through to greet him and he realizes your ploy to keep them out of the living room for a few minutes. You join them a few seconds later, arm snaking around his waist. “So, I was thinking, once everyone has their coffee, we can do presents and then eat? Clint and Laura asked us all to join them for dinner later.” You say, catching Maria’s eye. “Sounds good to me.” Steve agrees happily. Once everyone is settled in the living room, you sit on his lap in his arm chair, hand squeezing his in a death grip. “Okay, everyone has stockings, your names are on them.” You say and he can feel your pulse thumping erratically in your hand. Maria skips up first, finding hers easily. Steve and Sam find theirs next. Steve’s blue eyes widen as he reads the name on his stocking. He grabs Sam’s, checking the name on that one. Sam swats his hand away, before seeing his name. His gaze shoots over to you and Bucky puts a finger to his lips, gesturing to everyone else. One by one, their reactions are the same as they realize the importance. “First of all.” Tony starts, holding his up, pointing to the name. “Shouldn’t nine say ‘godfather’?” He asks and Buck rolls his eyes. “It can be changed later if that’s the decision we come to.” You reply with a pleasant smile. “Fair. Second of all, congratulations. How long have you known? Did Barnes know the whole time we were gone?” “No, but Maria did.” He says, narrowing his eyes at the dark-haired woman. Steve pulls you to your feet, crushing you in a hug. “I’m definitely The Godfather, right?” He whispers and you just chuckle, returning the hug. “I love you, too, Stevie.” You grin. You settle back into his lap, pulling his arm around you as you watch your family start to open their presents.

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38. Part 2

My mom gasped “Robbie, why are you crying?” I sniffled wiping the tear that left, I am so stupid, but I feel highly emotional about that, he really called me mom like oh my god “what happened? Was it Chris?” My mom rubbed my back “not that, just” Mel walked over all concerned that I am being this way, I am so emotional about this “Aeko didn’t want to go with Chris, I have told Chris off about his behaviour but I have told Chris and Aeko didn’t understand that he was the one going, he was hiding behind my legs. He called me moqrm!” I spat, Mel gasped “no way!?” she spat “yeah, he called me Bobyn mom, like I am just feeling all sorts of things right now, he called me mom. What did I do to deserve such a title” placing my hand over my chest “oh god” noticing Dennis is recording, of course he is “that is because you have took the place of his mother, you have showered him with love and care, this is all he wants. All he wanted was someone that believed in him and you did, he feels it. Awww my baby, you are such a good woman” my mom hugged me, I just don’t know what I deserved to have such a title, mom “that is beautiful” Mel rubbed my back “I just don’t think I deserved it, like I was just doing what I thought was right. You know, god. It’s really hit my heart. I don’t want to ever take someone’s child away, that is not the case but I am pretty shocked about it. Chris was like you what? He really wanted to stay with me” I breathed out moving back from my mom “that has to be the highlight of my life at this moment, like people don’t know the full story. I don’t know the full story but to have a child call you mom, it’s just a highlight” god, I am so much in shock that he did, bless his heart.

I am not even sure how to react to it “what would you do mom? Like should I allow him to call me that? Should I tell him no, please help me mom?” I asked, I am not sure of it at all “do you feel uncomfortable with it? I mean if he sees you as Bobyn mom then who are you to correct him, you got to be a good person to get such a title Robyn. You are so good, a little too good and I think you should let him. If his mother wants to battle you then so be it, but I don’t think she has much of a case. She has done a number on that child; he shouldn’t feel that way. Not even with Chris, where is Jah?” my mom asked “he has gone with them, Aeko wouldn’t go without him. I have spoken to Chris about being more kind to him, he needs it. I am so overjoyed, like it’s weird. I am used to him looking at me with those big brown eyes, he’s there more then he is Chris at times. He is so loving, and I hate them two idiots, she uses him as a pawn, and he thinks of him as a waste of time because that’s her son. It’s not that, I don’t even care for that. They both need to grow up, I am not even playing anymore. I want them both to fucking grow up, but I don’t see it, but anyways. I need to prepare for my meetings” I breathed out “I hope Chris listens to you, Jah will tell us anyways” Mel is right, Jah will tell us.

I can’t believe this little nigga really called Robyn mom, is he feeling ok. I am unsure on even how to feel about that because he shouldn’t say that, who the hell even put that idea in his mind in the first place “infamous Chris Brown home, I seen this shit in picture. Seeing it in person, shit is crazy” Shem said as I unlocked the door “welcome, come in. Make yourself comfortable, don’t ask for anything. You do what you need to do” walking into my home “shit is wild Chris, I love your home!” this is why I don’t want to sell it, this home is like a masterpiece, it doesn’t deserve anyone to have it besides me, I get to have my own shit here and decorate the outside when I want, I don’t think I will be ever selling it, I will keep it whether Robyn likes it or not “you can use the studio, whatever you want. Make yourself home” Stephan dapped me “thank you, it’s like staying at an entertainment park bro, amazing” they are looking around in shock, my home is a masterpiece “you want to go and play?” I asked Aeko, he is holding onto Jah’ hand firmly “yes I do daddy” Jah said on his behalf “nigga, shut up!” I laughed “come, you know this home now. Don’t be sad” he knows this home so he don’t need the acting this way at all, I picked him up whether he likes it or not, he didn’t react badly at all, he let me pick him up.

Watching him throw the basketball “you got it, go on. Here” holding the ball out as he threw it at the hoop “oh wow, you nearly had it there” picking the ball “Look” throwing it and it fell into the hoop “now Aeko does it” grabbing another ball for him “I do it” he said as he took it from me, grabbing him up and aiming up at the hoop so he can easily put it in “there we go! Yay! Aeko did it” putting him down on the floor “I did it!” he yelped out, I chuckled nodding my head “you did” he clapped his hands “I play car, I go here” he ran to the Mario Kart machine “yeah we can play on that, sit on the seat. You want to play with him” I asked Jah “no, you can. He wants his dad too” Aeko sat back on the seat “your little legs won’t reach, so how about you sit on my lap and we play with Jah?” I just realised his legs won’t reach the pedals; he nodded his head. Picking him up from the seat, sitting down and placing him on my lap “you hold the steering wheel, and I will do the pedals ok?” Aeko nodded his head already grabbing the steering wheel ready to play “you better let me win Chris” Jah said, he probably will win because Aeko is steering. Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, grabbing my phone from my pocket and seeing that my mom facetiming me “one minute” I said to him, answering the facetime call. Aeko looked at my phone, his face just got in the way “I want my son back Chris!” Ammikka snatched the phone from my mom “what son?” I said laughing, is she crazy “you blocked my number, you blocked me on Instagram. You stole my son and I want him back!” she barked, it made me laugh “right” she is really crying wolf right now “Aeko you want to speak to momma?” I asked, he turned away from the steering wheel “mommy” he looked at the phone “no” he legit refused, I gasped “wow, you don’t want her?” putting the camera down “Bobyn momma, she shouts. Mean” he pointed at my phone “does she? What she say?” I asked “daddy not want me, she cry and she make me cry. She hit me” my eyes widened, Ammikka is screaming on this phone “hit you? Really, why baby” this is some shit “she not want me, she want erm” he turned in my lap “let’s play!” he totally just ignored that “you hit my son you dumb bitch” bringing the phone up “he acts like you, a whole fool” disconnecting the facetime “wow, she is a bad mother” Jah said, I didn’t know she like hits him.

Let me try something “we can play, lets try something” tapping on Robyn’ name to connect the facetime “that is fucked up Chris if he is saying that, hey Aeko. Did mommy hurt you?” Jah asked him, waiting for this facetime to connect “Bobyn?” my son said, he is something else “no, not Bobyn. Mommy that was on the facetime, the mean one” Aeko held his arm up “there, she pull cause I not walk fast” it connected finally “what is it? I am in a meeting, I hope it’s nothing bad” Robyn looks all flustered “send nudes” I said laughing “nigga, I will come there and kick you. Don’t be stupid” she is not in the mood “Aeko, look. Who is this” turning the screen so he can see, he turned in my lap “Bobyn, hi!” he clapped smiling “hey baby, are you having fun or is daddy being annoying like this” I was trying to test this out, seeing the drop down notification from my mom “oh god” I said as I read it “the bitch called the police on me, Robyn I got to go” least my mom warned me “huh, Chris what!?” Robyn spat “the bitch is playing up, she has phoned the police on me, she is claiming I kidnapped Aeko when I really didn’t, the bitch gave up the right. I need to call Mark; I will keep in touch” Robyn was going to speak but I disconnected the call “she phoning the police on you!? You have all that proof she didn’t want him” nodding my head, I know damn well she ain’t trying it. There is one thing my mom has done and has warned me about this, now I can prepare myself for the storm that will come and they will search my home because she will say I am on drugs, I know her and that is the only thing she got on me.

I totally forgot that Royalty is coming but she is here with Nia “so what is happening?” Stephan asked “this is why you don’t impregnant bitches, I was so out of it and I didn’t even know. She didn’t want my son and now she does, she is doing it to cause problems because they hate me anyways, the police will come and search my home now, watch. Just relax, you good” Royalty ran inside “hey big girl, look at you” hugging her as I placed my phone against my ear “and you got your hair braided!? I love it, you are so pretty” Mark answered my call “are you coming? Like are you close, I know they going to be here soon so I need you here” I am panicking a little “I am coming son” he said, disconnecting the call “Nia, this is Stephan. A friend, uhm did you see any police out there!?” I asked her, Nia shook her head “no why? Don’t tell me there is trouble coming” I sighed out heavily, tapping on my photos and going to the messages she has sent me “look at this shit, she threw Aeko to me and is now claiming I stole him” Nia took my phone, picking up Royalty “you getting too tall for this baby, I missed you so much. My twin, don’t you think?” turning to Stephan “she is, hi princess” Royalty waved “daddy, are you in trouble?” I chuckled “mhmm I am not sure yet” I chuckled “seriously!? Keep these messages Chris, I cannot believe she is doing this to you, that is mean to him” Nia said “she literally let him travel with a random woman with no clothes or anything, I am just fed up. My lawyer is coming anyways” putting Royalty down, my daughter is getting too big for me now, she is tall as hell.

Robyn is wanting to come here but I told her not too, I can handle it. Mark is here now too, Nia and Jah so kindly taken the kids to another room so Aeko and Royalty don’t need to see this shit “she is fucked bro, not going to lie. What made you think to impregnant her?” Shem asked “she wasn’t like this, she was quiet. She jumped when I said jump, she was a puppet to me but she is heartbroken, she wanted me to play happy families with her and I wasn’t happy” she is now just being drama but she will learn “Chris” Mark said walking over to me “I have spoke to the police, they still want to sweep over the house but they have no rights to remove Aeko. I have shown the messages, there is no foul play so if the gentleman calmly can look around and they can be on their way, I will file a restraining order on Ammikka and we will need to go to court, full custody of him. She is screaming murder out there alone; she has no money to even have a lawyer, but we will get her removed. And I will file the paperwork and get this rolling quickly” nodding my head, the officers walked in “please” Mark gestured “I thought you wasn’t going to go for full custody?” Mark asked “yeah when I called you I uhm didn’t, but I need to do right by my son. He is unhappy with her so; I am going to do it. I have a good home Mark, I am married. I have a family, stability. I can do it” Mark smiled at me “I believe you can son, but the restraining order needs to be done as soon as possible. I don’t want her jumping to do something else and blaming you” Mark is right, she is unhappy with herself, so I do not want her to be doing something to get me in trouble.

The officers found nothing; I mean I knew that anyways “you American police move differently brother” Stephan said pointing at the officer “you think I would let some officer without any papers come in my home, brother I would knock your block off bro” this is why I like him “thank you Chris” the officer said walking off “will you be escorting the lady from the premises please, I will come with you” Mark walked off with them, I am so glad that bitch did not get the chance to see me at all, the best thing I did was have Mark here, she couldn’t even get to me at all, not only has she lost her son but she ain’t about to get no money from me, this is a good day “welcome to my life” I sighed out walking off, let me get them to come out now. Nia is good peoples, she stayed behind which she didn’t need too “I still think you should knock his block off” Stephan said, I laughed at him because I wish I could “y’all can come out now, coast is clear. That was fun wasn’t it?” I chuckled “dad are you being naughty again? Rihanna won’t like it” Royalty said, she is being deadass too “you better relax, I ain’t do anything. This is grown folk business now, thank you Nia for waiting behind. I will drop this girl off before Monday, so Sunday night” Royalty pulled a face “where is Riri? Why isn’t she here?” Nia snorted laughing “she has been counting the days down to see Rihanna, good luck to you. Be good for your dad now, seriously” Nia pointed at Royalty.

Aeko and Royalty really be going at it, like I think Royalty doesn’t have the patience and Aeko continues to touch her stuff “hold the mic while I put this on” Royalty and this karaoke shit “can I be next?” Jah said “me and Chris, it’s Jahleel featuring Chris Brown” I chuckled at him “I don’t mind that, we can be after. Come on you two” my son doesn’t look happy to be there “I am Royalty Brown, and this is? Say it!” she shouted “Aeko” she groaned out “and I am going to sing what’s my name, and Aeko you can be Drake” Jah screamed out laughing, like I don’t know whether to laugh or cry “what?” I said half laughing as Jah screamed out, like these niggas are laughing at me “listen dad, I am Rihanna obviously and he is Drake so let’s go!” I can’t even be angry “can’t you just do something else? My god” pulling a face “oh my god, this has really made me cry. Oh god, Aeko you make a beautiful Drake, you go boo” Jah waved her off, Royalty chooses the worst things on earth. Watching the video play in the back, Aeko looked behind him and he dropped the mic “Bobyn!” he pointed, I just remembered he doesn’t actually know the singer she is supposed to be “Bobyn!” he shouted jumping up and down “it’s Rihanna Aeko” Royalty said “no it Bobyn, dad. It Bobyn” he ran to me “it is” he sat next to me “you’re supposed to be singing with me?” Royalty said but it’s too late, Aeko is entranced by Robyn being on TV “I have never seen such a genuine excitement on someone’s face, he has heart eyes. I can’t believe he doesn’t know Rihanna, like this is so new to him” Jah said “why doesn’t he know Rihanna?” Royalty asked, “because he doesn’t know her like that, and he calls her Bobyn, so let him” Royalty is not pleased.

Skipping the Kiss it Better video for him and then it went to Diamonds, we are going back to the home to eat and then we have to go back but I found a new way to keep him entertained, by playing Rihanna on YouTube and putting headphones on him, he is so intrigued by it, I think he is in disbelieve that she is singing and she is on Youtube, he is so whipped, like me “thank you for earlier” I said to Jah “for coming, breaking that barrier down. Like I know I am not the best person, I fucked up. I want to make it right; I think we are going to be good. It’s kind of pains me to know he felt that way, she was really bad to him” Jah smiled at me “it’s not a problem, I think we can gather why she only wanted him and treated him good for. She wanted you, she didn’t get you so why be nice to the seed. I think she is unstable. She got played at her own game, she only got herself to blame now. Even if the courts don’t give you full custody. Least you will get the right type of custody of him, it needed to happen. He has so much to learn, I enjoy him” that is nice of him “I need to let that guard down, I need to enjoy him” I can see why they love him.

Helping Aeko out of the car, Royalty ran like her life depended on it and I felt for Aeko because she will not let him get peace now. Aeko also ran off, my kids don’t want me anymore “this home is so damn busy” I kind of hate it, not going to lie. She also has Rich and Frank living here, I hate it. like clockwork, of course I hear the cries of Aeko. It was going to happen “I have been counting down the days Rihanna! Oh my god” Royalty is hugging Robyn of course, Aeko is on the floor crying “do you want to cry too?” Robyn said laughing, side eyeing Robyn as I leaned down to pick him up “what is wrong huh?” he pointed at Robyn “I hug Bobyn” he is out of breath “you can hug her Aeko, calm down. You got to share now” putting him down “what is wrong with you, there is enough hugs to go around. Come here” Robyn hugged Aeko “it’s ok, calm down” she rubbed his back “did you have a good time with daddy huh” I really prefer London right now, this home is just getting on top of me, it’s like everyone is here and watching “I see you dance” he pointed at Robyn laughing “me?” Robyn laughed “he has found out about the singer Rihanna” Jah said “oh that old thang, I joke. You like it?” he nodded his head.

Sneaking off to the kitchen, Mel is showing Royalty Fenty so I can sneak off for a little while. Seeing Robyn with her mom cooking, running around the counter “what I say about you coming in this kitchen” Monica caught me before I even got to Robyn “I know but, please. Just two minutes, it’s just time. Robyn is always busy, please” Monica shook her head “go on then” grabbing Robyn’ hand, the dining room will be a good place to hide right now. I am running hoping no child clocks Robyn, now Majesty is here, this is hell for me. Closing the door and turning to Robyn “I miss you so much, and I just can’t wait to have sex with you. I am sick of not having time with you, it’s not fair. It’s just kids, on kids. I miss you so much” Robyn looked taken a back “I thought you was enjoying this Cali freedom” hugging Robyn close, she wrapped her arms around my neck “I miss us” Robyn said, it’s been a while where I can just hold Robyn without anyone interrupting. Her attention is all mine, she is busy and I don’t like it now “I knew I would be busy here Chris, doesn’t stop me thinking about you” Robyn moved back from the hug, pressing a kiss against my lips “I just miss us being alone now, it’s wack. You know, I miss your face. I miss your body the most, I have not had the chance to really just have you to myself like that” Robyn smiled at me lightly staring at my face “I am wanting sex so badly now, I know my pussy is crying. We will make time for each other, but you didn’t get in trouble right? You called Mark” nodding my head “let’s not think of anything or anybody, just us” I miss it, I just miss us “maybe we can think of getting a nanny, so we can have more us time? Don’t you think?” Robyn pulled a face, doesn’t like the idea at all “in London we’re ok, we don’t need it” I guess that is a no.

take three steps to your left; take me with me you [2/2]

Read Part 1

summary:  Takahiro’s not sure why but he hates it when people get Matsukawa wrong. And they always seem to.

tags: rated t, pining, dialogue heavy now because oi-matsu-hana are three drunkards, maybe a part three from Matsukawa’s take?, dw matsukawa shows up yay, hanamaki/oikawa friendship and iwaizumi is yay

notes: the first chapter was supposed to just be that, just a short take on possible matsuhana relations, but then i decided why not make it a fic yknow. although part 1′s a good standalone!! this one’s much less serious but yeah! if you happen to reblog my work, i will most likely read your tags and then die of joy.

as always, ao3 link

Last chapter:

“Oh we forgot something,” Oikawa says, and this time there’s thoughtfulness sharpening the eyes sweeping over Takahiro. “We forgot about the part where you’re in love with him.”

Takahiro freezes.

Before Takahiro knows it, his arm is out. Is it really his fault though? It’s not like this was a first-degree planned nose-grabbing. One second Oikawa is saying some bull; and the another, Oikawa’s nose is just...in Takahiro’s crab-claw. His heart’s pounding a little faster than usual, but it’s Gucci. 

“Makki! That hurts my conker!.” Oikawa squirms into a sitting position and then scoots his ass back, pretty much over Takahiro’s lap to prevent his nose from getting torn off.

“Nice conk bro.”

When Oikawa wrinkles his nose, Takahiro lets go. He keeps wiggling it, exercising it with ugly ogre faces and complaining he can’t smell Takahiro’s teen reek or something like that.

“Hey, I’ve seen you looking at Iwaizumi after practice.” Takahiro shakes his head. “Just because he’s all sweaty-”

“That’s not-!” Oikawa jumps up, yelling. “He’s not-! You can’t just say-”

Takahiro laughs. Three years of friendship have given Oikawa neural damage, a better poker face, and a properly tainted sense of humor, but specially made mentions of Iwaizumi Hajime still sends him into a loud, quacky fluster.

“You know,” he says casually, comfortably stretching, splaying his arms out over the couch. “I’ve caught him staring back at you.” Leaving a soft pause for the atmosphere shift, Takahiro tilts his head to the side with a small, lopsided grin and waits.

Yes, he expects Oikawa to melt. Instead, Oikawa lets out a small sigh and plunks back down beside Takahiro. His gaze shifts from ground to ceiling and back again. A tiny, hard pit plunks into Takahiro’s stomach. Apprehension. He’s about to joke about how he never makes Oikawa wait this long when he’s teasing him, but the noise that comes out is a sad sort of wheeze that he ends up trying to pass off as a cough.

At last, Oikawa pursues his lips. Takahiro’s given him an opening and he’s taking it. “Makki. You’re in love with Mattsukawa-”

Takahiro’s breath hitches.

“And he’s in love with you.” Oikawa skewers him with his gaze, captain to one of his men, like they’re in one last match. “So. How about you save us spectators the time and-”

Never Gonna Give You Up rings shrilly through the air.

Oikawa’s mouth drops open. Takahiro he lunges for his phone. “Matsukawa,” he reads off the screen like they hadn’t both known from the ringtone.

“Huh. Well.” hums Oikawa. “I need to take a piss.” And he flounces off the couch with that.

Takahiro flexes his fingers, nails digging into his palm. They’re too long again, he thinks, drawing a long inhale. He’s not...he’s not nervous about taking a call from his best friend. 

Of course he’s nervous. After what Oikawa tried to imply-

He presses the phone against his ear. “Go for Makki.”

“Yes, hello, I would like some chikky nuggies.”

“Sorry, sir.” Takahiro yawns into the receiver. And into Matsukawa’s ear. “We’re all out. Does that make you hangry?”

“Little bit.” Matsukawa’s low voice sounds rougher than normal, like he’s got something caught in his throat or taken a pinch of Iwaizumi’s gruff soul. The line crackles. “What say you make it up to me?”

“Mmm? What’d you have in mind?” In his peripheral, he notices Oikawa stalking over here with a shit-eating grin Takahiro’s more familiar seeing on Matsukawa’s face.

“The usual. Pick you up in four?”

“Yeah.” Takahiro says, partially distracted with batting at Oikawa. He’s not going to give captain the opportunity to say something ridiculous like...stop flirting Makki! For one, they’re not flirting. And for another, Takahiro makes fun of Oikawa; the teasing in their relationship is strictly one way. To Matsukawa, he says “Wait.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m at Oikawa’s. It’s not rude if I tell him we don’t want him hanging out with us if I say it to his face, right?”

Oikawa leans over and gets his hands on Takahiro’s phone. He might be unable to rip it out of Takahiro’s grip,but he can, and does, bring his head down to yowl, “Fine! Enjoy your date without me!”

Oikawa’s going to die soon and it’s a shame Takahiro will be too busy disposing the evidence to attend the funeral.

“Okay make that five minutes. Also. Forgot to mention,” Matsukawa says, smooth as ever. “Iwaizumi’s sleeping over for the night. If you guys want, I guess we could make it a foursome.”

“Dude, don’t be gross.” Takahiro grumbles. “That’s almost as yucky as thinking about how Oikawa spends the entire time oogling Iwaizumi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Oikawa huffs. “Oikawa-sama likes Iwa-chan, Oikawa-sama likes Iwa-chan without a shirt on! Everyone knows and all they do is bully Oikawa-sama about it!” Oikawa finally pauses to breathe. “Also, Makki says we’ll be there. And he says he wants to be sleeping with you guys tonight.”

“Cool. Gross but cool.”

“Yeah, great.” Takahiro says as flatly as he can muster. “Mattsun, hurry up and rescue me from the crazy man?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Static crackles over the line. Matsukawa’s probably has the phone awkwardly caught between his shoulder and ear, to free his hands. “See you soon, yeah?”

Takahiro opens his mouth. And closes it abruptly. 

It’s nothing new, Matsukawa waiting for Takahiro to sign off. Matsukawa knows Takahiro hates feeling burdensome. Matsukawa always lets Takahiro end the call, no matter how silly they start out to be. It’s nothing new, but it’s one of Takahiro’s many preferences that Matsukawa just never forgets. It’s nothing new, but for someone infuriatingly attached to simplicity, Matsukawa sure goes out of his way a lot for Takahiro. 

“Makki?”

“Yeah.” Takahiro bites himself in the tongue. “See you soon.”

He jabs the end call button before he can do anything else. When he catches Oikawa’s mouth twisting he asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” Oikawa says, straight faced. And then when he can’t help himself, he wears a dopey grin.“Y’all are just so fucking cute.”

Takahiro rolls his eyes, even as a slow heat creeps up his neck. He gathers his things and gives Oikawa a quick hug before making for the door. Then he delivers a swift kick to the ass when captain makes the mistake of showing his back.

“Makki!”

“See you tonight!” he shouts, dashing out the door and right into his getaway man.

“Ow,” Matsukawa drawls, standing in a casual gray set of t-shirt and pants. He’s flexing his jaw because Takahiro friggen headbutted him. “I know you missed me but tone down the Iwaizumi-affection.”

Takahiro hardly thinks twice before snagging him by the wrist and hightailing them both away from the danger zone. “Stop slowing me down,” he chokes, and Matsukawa laughs. They almost make it.

“Oi!” Takahiro scowls, whirling around. “You asshat, Crocs only!” He snatches up the sneaker from where it’d bounced off his back and flings it at its owner. 

“That hurt, Makki!! My ass and my feelings!!”

“Yeah, yeah. Catch you later, captain.”

Matsukawa snickers and Takahiro elbows him in the ribs as they walk down Oikawa’s driveway. “You were absolutely no help, you big lug. Should’ve known...would’ve ditched you immediately.” 

“After I kindly offered a ride? Youch.” Matsukawa peers at him. He might only be a few inches taller but it does mean Takahiro has to pass over his lips to get to his gaze.

But since Oikawa’s said what he said...Takahiro looks away. Hovers and talks at the passenger side door. “Wanna give me the keys?”

They both know he hates driving.

Matsukawa snorts. Apparently he’s not even going to dignify the shoddy joke with a response.

The truth is, they both know a lot of things, Takahiro starts to think. He leans against the window, the glass cool to his skin. But maybe Oikawa’s right and he’s missed one.

...you’re in love with Matsukawa...and he’s in love with you.

Just to be practical, to seriously think about what it would be like, Takahiro takes a hot second  to hand control over to his imagination. Imagines himself turning his body, tilting his head, looking into dark eyes, a bright grin, pulling Matsukawa in and- Takahiro swallows. So he’s flushing. Okay. This is okay, hahaha...

They reverse out the driveway, Matsukawa shifting gears and into traffic with an ease Takahiro should be jealous of. But Matsukawa moves, does it all like it’s secondhand nature. The quiet confidence he wears is rare, but it’s the same kind Oikawa has, putting the ball in Iwaizumi’s hands without hesitation, without doubt, day after day. Each of them has the other’s confidence; are each part of the other’s confidence in himself.

Takahiro leans back and closes his eyes, lets the hot sun wash over his thighs, soaking through his shirt.

Maybe it’s not smart to compare, but Takahiro thinks he places a similar kind of trust in Matsukawa. Or at least the most trust he can muster. 

After all, he is a cynic. He’s the one who tells Oikawa they could never have won nationals anyways, and that the likelihood of going to nationals was made in the same ridiculous mold. He’s not a shonen protagonist. His faith is not in people; it’s in numbers, in facts. And that’s how it’s always going to be.

But. Takahiro thinks, thinks that if that was ever going to be different, maybe it’d be because of Matsukawa. 

“Hey.”

Takahiro blinks himself alert. Matsukawa’s turning the car around, sliding into the parking lot. They’re lucky there’s a spot right at the front of the diner, even if it’s a bit of a tight fit between two SUVs. “We’re here, meathead.”

“Meathead?” 

“It was that or meatball.”

“How hungry are you.” Takahiro springs his seat belt free and he’s got a hand on the door handle when all of a sudden, Matsukawa drops his phone into Takahiro’s lap.

“I’ll go. Do me a favor and text Iwaizumi back for me?”

Takahiro nearly unhinges his jaw. “Do you realize the amount of power you’re giving me. Do you know how much restraint I am being forced to perform right now.” Oh Holy Mother of Volleyball - he could change all of his contacts to Oikawa’s number.

Matsukawa grins his hey!-i’m-the-boy-next-door grin. The corners of his eye crinkling and all, and shit, he’s cute.

Okay, but he’s always been cute!! This is nothing new either!!!

“I am looking away,” Matsukawa says, hopping out his car. “The usual?”

Takahiro nods. Watches Matsukawa turn, watches his back grow smaller as he walks away.

And he’s in love with you, rings in his ears once more.

Is he? Because. If Matsukawa was. And they both...wanted to give it a try...

His shorts are suddenly shifting. He looks down, wraps his fingers around the phone starting to slide down his thigh and brings it up to examine.

The lockscreen’s an old blurry photo of the seniors previous to practice (but the picture changes often. When Oikawa’s bored or Iwaizumi’s feeling vindictive and finally ready to retaliate, or when Takahiro wants to. Often, like he said.). There isn’t a password because Matsukawa says he has nothing to hide, but mostly because Takahiro refuses to memorize any numbers he’s not going to use on a test and it’s more fun using Matsukawa’s phone than his own for some reason.

He makes a quick pit stop at the Photo Gallery, creating copies of some of the pictures of the guys and annotates extra dicks onto them. Most of them are actually photos he’s taken, he realizes. While he’s wondering if he should go ahead and delete some of the bullshit photos so Matsukawa doesn’t need to when he wants to download a new game and he’s got no space, Takahiro remembers he’s supposed to be replying to Iwaizumi. Contacts...there, Iwaizumi’s the first one.

You: so 8?

Iwaizumi: yeah. Iwaizumi: unless Iwaizumi: you know You: ?

Iwaizumi: you know. Iwaizumi: you and hanamaki take a detour

Iwaizumi: to talk bout your feelings Iwaizumi: you’re going to right

Matsukawa’s left it at that, left Iwaizumi on read.

Takahiro blinks.

Matsukawa wants him to answer Iwaizumi’s text.

Matsukawa’s giving him an easy out.

Takahiro closes his eyes. What. Is. Going. On. What does this even mean!!! He reads the text again and- Iwaizumi had said your. What.

He doesn’t get much time to think about the implications because Matsukawa’s walking up to him, passing him his order. The smell of hot food isn’t anywhere near as attractive as it usually is, so he place it on his lap. It can wait. He’s not sure if it’s appropriate to laugh out his nerves or glare, with Matsukawa slipping into his own seat, calm and collected as ever. From head to toe, in every piece of his posture and each inch of his expression, Matsukawa Issei tells the world just how perfectly at peace he is with it. Takahiro compromises by biting his own tongue, which triggers his swear-reflex.

Matsukawa snickers.

Ohoho, alright. Takahiro dials up his glare to the max. “Got something to say, asshole?”

“Yeah, actually,” Matsukawa’s lips twitch, a sign he’s suppressing a smile. Takahiro tries to do the same until the blocker says, “You’ve been kind of spacey. What’s up?”

“Ah.” Takahiro ducks his head. “Not much.” Just realizing I’d like to kiss you. Whaboutyou? ”Oikawa just. Said a thing.”

“Mm?”

Matsukawa’s not expecting a reply, he’s just offering Takahiro the opportunity to, should he want it. Affection, warm and rich, blooms in the spiker’s chest. His shoulders sink, falling lax. If he smiles, a little, sue him. “Pretty insightful thing too. Unusually helpful for a change.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It turns out, before you talk about your feelings,” Takahiro says, looking right at Matsukawa while his ears burst into flames. “You have to be aware of them.”

“Holy shit.” Matsukawa blinks. And then he slaps a hand over his eyes and starts laughing, his shoulders actually shaking. Takahiro should kick hit him or run for the hills, right, except Matsukawa is talking to himself. “Wow. Iwaizumi was...right. I mean. And I thought-”

“Issei.”

“I’ve.” He finally meets Takahiro’s eyes. “Had the biggest crush on you. Since end of first year. And you never knew?”

His expression must have answer because the silly guy starts laughing again and Takahiro honest to the gods, feels giddy enough to join in. “Were you going to tell me?”

A gentle shrug. “Don’t know. Wanted to though.”

Takahiro hums. Neither of them have said the real words though and maybe they should do the thing the conventional way? “So.” he begins. “What would you say if we called today a date?”

“Ask you when the next one would be?” Matsukawa puts a hand on the back of his head, an act which Takahiro recognizes as nervous. “Or ask, ‘wait, so you do like me, right?’“

He’s so silly, Takahiro marvels. So silly.

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

(Epilogue)

Five minutes past eight, Takahiro enters Oikawa’s house. With his boyfriend.

Boyfriend boyfriend boyfrienddd boyyyfriend boyfriend Matsukawa-boyfriend-Issei. 

These thoughts do not belong aloud, it turns out, when Oikawa spots them and immediately yells- nonsense at first, and then something along the same lines. Following up, is a demanding, “So?? Did you kiss yet? Yo! Answer the question! Did y’all kiss??” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and tells him to mind his own business.

“Do you really want to know, captain?” Matsukawa smirks. Takahiro’s fingers find his and they link. Watching Oikawa’s eyes expand to the size of dinner plates is just as satisfying as watching the cogs in his brain turning to try and figure out the answer on his own the rest of the night. In the meantime, they’ve taken their spots on the couch while Iwaizumi fiddles with game settings to accommodate the four of them. It’s game night after all.

(Yeah, Takahiro supposes he owes Oikawa; he’ll give the details captain is dying for later. OR. he muses. Maybe he’ll get Oikawa and Iwaizumi together and then call his dues paid? Matsukawa would be down for either.)

Iwaizumi is as characteristically Iwaizumi as ever. At the snack break, Takahiro sees him giving Matsukawa a shoulder pat, and thinks that’s it. After the two of them get knocked out of the Smash Bros round early he plans on sitting back to watch the defending champion and Mr. Kirby war. Instead, he finds his shoulder being tapped and follows, getting led into the kitchen.

Vice captain hands him a water and leans on the counter. “Congrats.”

“Thanks, Iwaizumi-kun.” he deadpans. “I’m sorry we couldn’t work things out but I’ll cherish the memories.”

“Hey, man, I’ll punch you. No boyfriend around to defend you, y’know.” Iwaizumi taunts.

Takahiro smirks right back at him. He’s not sure if he could be happier if he tried. “So what’s this about?” 

Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side. “Oikawa tells me he helped you.”

“Yeah,” Takahiro can allow this. He nods. “Just like you helped Issei.”

“Ha! If only you knew.”

Takahiro raises a brow.

“You know the texts I sent him?” Iwaizumi’s grin is so very wolfish. “He asked me to send them. Fabricated all of them himself. He had me set you guys up.” And then he's calling out “See you later!” due to the fact Takahiro is hightailing out of the room.

Oikawa is absolutely beating the shit out of Metaknight, although Matsukawa’s still winning the trash-talking contest. But as Takahiro enters the room, he trails off, eyes leaving the screen for Takahiro’s. Taking his opportunity, Oikawa finally pushes Metaknight off the platform and whoops to kingdom come. It doesn’t really matter though, Takahiro has walked over, leaning down.

Matsukawa meets him midway. The kiss is soft and sweet but it still messes him up. In the best way ever.

Oikawa’s squeaks go ignored.

“You’re adorable.” Takahiro shakes his head as he sinks into the spot besides the blocker on the couch. He puts his head on Matsukawa’s shoulder and breathes in cotton and cool.

“Iwaizumi sold me out, huh?”

Another kiss stolen. “Dibs on him as my best man.”

Matsukawa snickers while Oikawa protests, “The hell? What about me? Makki, I had your back! I made the play of the year! I’m literally game MVP.”

Iwaizumi appears, nudging Oikawa to scoot over until they both have enough space. “I heard my name?” He gets himself two fistbumps. 

Oikawa scowls.

Instead of Dead, Become Two Dragons in Red.

| {MaribatMarch2020 — Week 1, Day 5: Transformation} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

| {Repost due to original post disappearing from the tags.} |

| Triggers/Warnings: Violence/Implied Violence, Animal Transformation, Explicit Language/Some Swearing, Implied/Referenced Character Death (but not really), Polyamory (not really a trigger/warning but if you don't like Polyamory then this isn't for you). |

| For Gotham vigilantes, rampaging magic-users always make for an interesting fight, that is of course, provided one doesn't get hit by any stray bolts of magic. However for Parisian heroes, it's just your typical Tuesday Akuma situation. |

| Word Count: 3232 |

==‹›==

| A/N: Hi! I'm not dead, sorry for how long I took to respond to comments, I got hit by a nasty cold then sinusitis so I lost basically all my Maribat March prep time thanks to that, so I just barely managed to finish this ficlet/oneshot for today, anyway I hope you guys enjoy, and if enough people enjoy it, I'll make a second part to this oneshot because I had to cut so much material and it'd be nice to be able to use it still. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then comment or send me a DM/ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==‹›==

Zzzzt-crackle-woosh, a purplish-black bolt of unstable magic flies through the air, just barely grazing passed Dragonbug's side as she flips across the gap between two buildings. Cheerfully, she calls out “Missed again!”

The villain, an amorphous black shadow with dripping molten gold eyes and donning a ruddy patchwork hooded robe (which suffice to say, looks suspiciously like a rip-off wizzrobe from the Legend of Zelda, that or a faceless Gregorian based cultist extra from a film or TV show), scowls furiously, “Oh fuck you! I'm trying my best here!” and blasts another bolt of purplish-black magic towards her.

Conveniently located on the roof she just landed on, is an air vent. She cartwheels behind it and manages to dodge the bolt by a good metre or so. “Well, your best sucks and so does your aim!”

The wizard-villain screeches in fury, “Well my aim wouldn't suck if you didn't keep moving like a goddamn Duracell bunny!”

Dragonbug snorts. “Yeah but firstly, I'm dragon and ladybird themed, not bunny-themed; the bunny theme's already taken anyway. And secondly, where's the fun in that?”

As soon as she says that, her earpiece crackles as Red Robin pipes up on the comms channel. “Ready to see some fireworks?”

“Oh, you bet!” She responds, all too gleefully.

There's a faint clink-woosh-woosh-woosh and out of the corner of her eye, Dragonbug sees a blur of a small round silver ball arcing through the air towards the wizard-villain who's quite stupidly standing in the same place. As the silver ball disappears from her view, she hears a clatter of clink-clink-clink followed by a bwoosh and a bright flash of white light. At this moment, Dragonbug is so glad the Miraculous suits protect against flashbangs of all things.

The wizard-villain screams and once the flash of light fades, Dragonbug can see that they've fallen to their knees, in the middle of the street.

Dragonbug frowns and eyes their form, then double-taps her comms. “Hey, is it me or does our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist look somewhat unresponsive?”

Her earpiece crackles again as Red Robin answers, and really someone should give these things a maintenance check, the crackling can be so distracting. “Our wizzrobe-magic-cultist is looking pretty unresponsive to me too. It could be a trap though because I swear I didn't use one of my knockout flashbangs.”

She nods, despite the fact he can't see her; which upon realising this, she flushes red in embarrassment. After clearing her throat to compose herself, she tilts her head to the side. “That's concerning, unless our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist is susceptible to flashes of light.” She pauses, frown deepening, “You don't think they've got epilepsy do you?”

There's a slight rustle before Red Robin responds, “No, that's not what an epileptic seizure looks like. Again this could be a trap, or they could just be stunned. Either way, we should hurry but be careful.”

“Right.” Dragonbug scurries over to the edge of the roof then flips her way down to the ground. As she lands, she just spots Red Robin vaulting across an overturned car. As he catches sight of her, she gives him a thumbs up, which he returns.

Dragonbug then nods to him and he nods back, silently communicating their plan. They both start to slowly approach the wizard-villain in a pincer movement, her to the left and him to the right.

Red Robin reaches to his bandoliers and whips out a pair of manacles. He skulks behind the wizard-villain and goes to handcuff when the wizard-villain starts cackling maniacally. The laughter is quickly followed by a forming orb of purplish-black light—the same light as the magic bolts.

Oh, fuck! Is Dragonbug's only thought as she immediately dives at Red Robin, who's started backing away; she uses herself to try and block him from the still-forming orb. Please let the Miraculous magic protect us both! She silently begs as the orb expands exponentially, unfortunately enveloping them both completely in a fraction of a second

The maniacal laughter is the last thing they both hear as they're violently launched backwards into an alleyway, and everything fades to black.

==‹›==

Kagami's lounging on the sofa at Tim's Nest and binging Netflix, when the red alert rings across all the comms units.

“Shit,” Oracle falters, “Red Robin and Dragonbug are down. Dragonbug's signature has disappeared from our systems and her comms aren't responding. All Red Robin's vitals are down, his suit isn't registering any more signs of life. But I'm still getting warnings that the villain they were fighting is still active, so everyone available needs to converge on Red Robin and Dragonbug's last known location.”

Fear immediately seizes Kagami's heart, no please, please don't be dead my loves. She double-taps her comms. “I'm suiting up as Kuro Neko, I'll be at the location in three.”

With that said, Kagami flings herself off the sofa. She glances around the room for Plagg who's halted in his eating of cheese and giving her a sad but cryptic look. Her eyes flicker to the window and he nods almost imperceptibly.

“Plagg, claws on.” There's a woosh as the poisonous green light washes over her, donning her in the Kuro Neko suit. She flexes her claws for a split second, tail whipping back and forth furiously, before darting over to the window and vaulting out of it.

As soon as she's out the window, Kuro Neko extends her baton down and begins pole-vaulting her way across the rooftops and over towards where her significant others were last.

==‹›==

When Dragonbug returns to consciousness, the first thing she notices is that she can't move, nor see, nor hear. But she can feel, and unfortunately that means she feels a strange painful pulsing throughout her entire body, as well as an excruciating aching sensation. The second thing she notices is that she's curled up on the ground and her head, or the world, is spinning somewhat. Anyway, I can safely say I'm not doing so good right about now, big ouch.

The first of her other senses to return is her hearing. Which immediately makes her hiss in pain from the sudden cacophony seemingly coming from somewhere above her? She pauses, then realises that something's not quite right, hey wait a minute, why'd my hiss sound so weird? Something's not right, although I suppose that's kinda obvious now, but still! Oh god, what if I'm dying, or I've been body switched, or—or—or—

Her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden scream of fury, ringing out from above. Which is good because it means Dragonbug doesn't get time to dwell on that particular string of anxious thoughts, but it's also bad because it's loud and causes her to whimper in pain from how loud it is.

“Where the fuck are they? What the fuck did you do to them?” A voice sounding very similar to Kagami yells out.

Wait a second, that doesn't make sense, Red Robin and I didn't call for backup, so why would Kagami suit up on her night off? Dragonbug muses to herself, brain immediately latching onto the next train of thoughts. As she muses, she slowly realises that she's starting to regain the feeling in her limbs. Which is another positive? However, the feel of said limbs, causes her mind to immediately blank and lose the train of thought. While her brain tries to figuratively perform an error message, she does finally manage to crack open her eyes, yay sight.

It's at that moment, Dragonbug's superhero experience/training kicks in. She quickly takes stock of her surroundings and quietly thinks to herself, oh fuck.

It looks like she's in a giant—no massive—version of Red Robin's suit. Have I been shrunk? She wonders for only a brief second as something moves, just out of the area of her view. She turns and squints at the movement. Not a second later, a roughly cat-sized red lizard shuffled into sight.

She squeaks in surprise, then has a minute of wait what because her squeak sounded weird and very concerningly not-human-like.

The red lizard tilts its head to the side and coos at her.

Dragonbug glares at the lizard and tries to back away. Emphasis on tries, because as she does so, she ends up tripping over herself? Confused and extremely concerned now, she glances down and oh.

What. The. Heckles. She slowly spins around, checking out her new form, because she's clearly no longer human. No, she's got a snout, scales, fur—well mane—, claws, a long snakelike body, and a tail. Spinning around, she catches sight of a gleaming piece of shiny silver metal. So does what anyone would in the same situation as her, and scuttles over to it to use it as a makeshift mirror.

The reflection that greets her is… frankly quite adorable but also she's now a tiny little lung/long dragon. Which to be fair, makes quite a bit of sense as she was using the dragon Miraculous and Longg is a lung dragon. Her scales are a pretty red with shimmery golden accents and her mane is a dark red-almost-black colour. Her eyes still have the golden yellow iris and sclera that the dragon Miraculous gives. And the rest of her is all done variation of the gold, brighter red, and darker red. So at least her colour palette doesn't clash. Okay, so the colour palette isn't the most pressing issue here, but also I don't know how to fix this or change back so y'know, I'd rather potentially be stuck like this permanently with a nice colour palette, than one that clashes. But also oh god please don't let this be permanent, there has to be a way to undo this!

In her panic, Marinette doesn't notice the red lizard slinking closer to her. As it reaches her, it gently prods her with one claw; startling her badly and causing her to squeak again, loudly.

The red lizard flinches back and Marinette realises that maybe, just maybe, that's not a random lizard. And that maybe the not-a-random-lizard is actually a drake. A European dragon that hasn't got wings. And Tim. Tim's surname is Drake. A coincidence? I think not! It's got to be Tim!

She stares at the probably-Tim dragon and makes a chirping noise because dragons don't have the same vocal cords as humans, so she can't exactly ask him if that's him or not. A minor nuisance, to say the least.

The red drake mimics her chirp. Then cautiously slinks up to her again.

This close, Marinette can see that she's probably around the size of a ferret, in comparison to him being roughly the same size as a cat.

He flops down half beside, half against her and makes a series of clicks and chirps. She can't help but to tense as he flops but as the seconds pass, she finds herself relaxing bit by bit until she's also flopped over.

Enjoying the peaceful impromptu not-quite-a-cuddle cuddle session with one of her significant others, Marinette does try to keep an ear out for any goings-on above, just in case. But all seems well.

That is until, not even three seconds later, the peacefulness is abruptly shattered by a cacophony of screams, yells, zaps, and loud bangs echoing shrilly from above, before ceasing just as abruptly as it started.

However, the unexpected cacophony still manages to cause Marinette to panic. She tenses with a low whine, hunching slightly, and holds her breath. Alert and anxiously vigilant, she can't help but survey the immediate vicinity again and again and again—looking for anything she missed initially or if anything's changed.

Tim shuffles and stumbles into a sitting position. He nudges her gently in the side of the neck with his snout. He makes a cooing noise, followed by a soft rumble—as if he were trying to imitate a cat's purr.

It takes a few seconds, but his actions start to help calm her down. She takes in a deep breath and mentally reassesses the situation. We've been turned into tiny dragons. We're inside-slash-underneath the Red Robin suit which is on the ground. Before we woke up like this, we were battling a magic-user villain who tricked us. We didn't get time to call in backup before we got hit but it sounds like backup arrived anyway. As far as we know, no one is aware of what happened to us or that we're in-slash-under the suit. We are currently safe for now.

As Marinette reaches the end of the reassessment, she feels much calmer. She makes a low trill-like-purr noise to signal to Tim that she's calmed down.

He sticks his tongue out in a blep and mimics the low trill.

Their second moment of calm is then also interrupted because apparently fate hates peace and calmness or something like that.

“I will ask you once more, Where. Are. They?” Kuro Neko questions.

There's a loud thump-snap, followed by the wheezing cackle of the Wizard-villain. “They're gone! Dead! Erased! Exterminated!” With its piece said, the wizard-villain continues to wheeze and cackle maniacally.

Marinette can't help but shiver in fear at the sound, barely able to squash the rising nausea.

A harsh snap sound echoes loudly in the street and the wizard-villain starts choking wetly.

Kuro Neko hisses something but the red robin suit muffles the words to the point of being indistinguishable.

The minutes drag by and the only sounds of note from above, are inaudible mutterings and the clattering of handcuffs and car doors. They must've handed the wizard-villain over to the police, Marinette thinks.

She's about to go nudge Tim to try and communicate that they probably need to go find somewhere to stash his suit and a place for them to hide until they can figure out how to turn back when a conversation between the vigilantes who arrived for backup catches her attention. Partly because of the topic, and partly because of how close the voices suddenly sound.

“They can't be dead, Red Robin's suit is still there.” Dick—or well more like Nightwing, since he probably arrived as backup as well—stresses.

“But Dragonbug an' her suit's gone. You'd think maybe that there'd be a little more left if just organic matter was destroyed.” Jas—Red Hood mutters, the vocal distorter in his helmet making his tone of voice sound strange.

Or maybe that's just a side effect of getting tiny-dragon-ified, thinks Marinette, things sounding stranger. Although I've not really noticed anything bar the distorted voice sounding weird.

“The Miraculous suits are made of magic, and anyway, Plagg says he can't feel Tikki or Longg's presence anywhere,” Kuro Neko admits, reluctantly. “If all living things in the vicinity of the orb were destroyed, then the Miraculous would have still been left behind.”

“And how d'you know that?” Red Hood asks, sounding both genuinely curious and mildly concerned.

There's a split second of almost icy silence before Kuro Neko responds with a clipped tone. “Akuma.”

“Ah, o'course.” Red Hood comments, voice getting closer again. “Hey, d'you think B will want to stick the Red Robin suit in a memorial case like what he did with my Robin suit?”

“Hood!” Nightwing exclaims in a horrified and almost scandalised tone of voice.

Red Hood snorts.

Marinette flinches, and so does Tim beside her, although probably not for the same reasons as her. I don't think I'll ever get used to how flippantly Red Hood jokes about his death. Even if most Parisians who've died in Akuma attacks use the same sort of gallows humour.

There's a few seconds of silence before someone grabs the Red Robin suit and yanks it upwards, causing Tim and Marinette to tumble out of it with a series of startled squeaks and clicks.

Red Hood is the first to respond to the situation, with an eloquent, “what the fuck.”

Marinette glances up and sees Kuro Neko holding the Red Robin suit and looking rather shell shocked, with Red Hood and Nightwing a few steps away.

“Oh, thank fuck they're alive.” Nightwing half mumbles, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation.

“My loves,” Kuro Neko murmurs leaning down and scooping up Marinette and Tim, “I'm so glad you're okay.”

They both squirm for a minute before relaxing into her arms.

Nightwing frowns. “We should bring them back to the cave, maybe call Zatanna and Wonder Woman.”

“To the cave then.” Kuro Neko nods, hugging Marinette and Tim carefully, making sure not to accidentally hurt or squish them.

Marinette looks up at her significant other and bleps. She then trills, content to be held for the journey back to the Batcave.

Tim however, wrinkles his nose and chirrups in protest, he squirms and tries to escape Kuro Neko's hold—probably wanting to return to the Nest and deal with this on his own instead.

Kuro Neko gives Tim a deadpan stare before expertly pinching the correct pressure point to temporarily paralyse him.

Red Hood gives her a quizzical stare.

“Akuma, as well as kwami.” She responds, sagely.

“Right…” He slowly mutters, shaking his head.

Marinette can't help but burst into laughter at that, only because she's currently a ferret-sized lung dragon, the laughter comes out as a stream of trills and chirps.

Red Hood narrows his eyes at Marinette. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, danger noodle.”

Marinette pouts, whilst internally promising herself that revenge will be swift and pasta themed.

==‹›==

When they finally arrive back at the Batcave. They're greeted by the sight of Batman and Robin at the Batcomputer.

Robin turns and sneers at them. “Of course, trust Drake to pull such an attention-grabbing stunt as this.”

Marinette immediately looks up from her snuggled up position in Kuro Nell's arms and hisses at Robin; Tim however, lets out a world-weary sigh.

“Robin.” Barks Batman, but the reprimand does nothing to quell Robin's hostility.

Fixing a glare at Robin, Kuro Neko starts to stroke Marinette's scales like an evil villain would stroke a cat (much to Marinette's delight). “Need I remind you, how you hesitated upon hearing Oracle inform us that Red Robin's suit ceased reading any signs of life.”

“That was not hesitation! I was merely preparing for Grayson or Fatgirl to become hysterical in their distress.” Retorts Robin, who then stalks away, scowling and red-faced.

Nightwing dithers between going after him or staying to check on Tim and Marinette.

Kuro Neko shakes her head. “Go after him, Marinette and Tim will be fine without you hovering like a mother hen.”

Nightwing flashes her a grateful smile and scampers after Robin.

Kuro Neko then heads over to the medical bay and gently plonks the two dragons onto a cot. “Batman, I believe we will need to do as Nightwing suggested earlier, and call Zatanna and Wonder Woman. As this is a magic situation and I am not as skilled or knowledgeable in regards to magic as my love is.”

“Hhrrm,” Batman growls, already calling up the Watchtower.

Kuro Neko smiles softly as she glances down at her significant others, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Let's hope they arrive soon, otherwise who knows what sort of trouble you two could get into.” She winks.

Marinette chirps, tail flicking side to side eagerly. Whilst Tim perks up slightly and tilts his head to the side, mind probably racing with hundreds of pranks and shenanigans they could pull off whilst in dragon form.

==‹›==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| @maribat-march2020 | | @vixen-uchiha |

The Abditory - Teaser

Hello! Okay! So this is kinda the teaser/ introduction to the series I am writing. Sorry it took a while to post but I wanted to make sure I got a whole bunch of details about the series were done before really starting to write it. But let me include a couple details about what to expect from this series and this blog before you can really get into reading: Not only will you be getting the parts/chapters posted to this blog but I will also be posting character descriptions and pictures of what some characters would look like using inspirations from famous actors who I think would best fit said character. I can also answer questions about the series making sure to exclude spoilers along with explaining some of my inspirations for the personalities of characters from other people I personally know and or characters from tv shows, movies, books, etc. that I have enjoyed or really related to in a way. I am extremely excited about writing this series and I hope that the people who follow me on this journey will enjoy it as much as I know I will. (All characters in this series are OC’s created by me)

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Summary: Xiomara Garcia has always led a seemingly normal life for as long as she can remember. Living with her widowed father in a boring small town,  going to a boring normal High school, being messed with by the popular girls, and having her friends Christian and Veronica around. Pretty normal until she finds out the other stuff about her mothers side of the family being a family of witches and wizards. That and a hidden place in the forest where there are creatures that have only existed in fairytales and fiction in the real world. But other than that pretty normal, right?

(Warnings: None)

Abditory - (rare) A concealed location used for storage or to hide items. [mid 17th century]

~

(Xiomara’s POV)

Shit shit shit shit shit! I mentally curse myself in my head, my heart starts beating fast and my feet take control of my body as I start to sprint in the opposite direction of where I was going. Here comes Rebecca with Felicia, Marissa, and Jennifer, her own little army of perfect Barbie doll friends trying to kick my ass…. Again.  It’s a good thing that Veronica and Christian weren’t there for that whole exchange I had with them earlier or they would be just as screwed as I am right now. I swear I’m always fucking something up, I just wonder why I can’t just be like my parents they were perfect when they were my age. Dad was always such a popular and respected guy and mom, well mom was just perfect. She was pretty, kind, and  friends with literally everyone, even when she got older everyone still loved her, so you bet they were devastated when she died. I guess I’m overthinking though because there goes Rebecca trying to grab my shirt. Gotta keep running.

-

(Christian and Veronicas POV)

“Dude I swear to God Mrs. Brown is gonna catch these hands if she doesn’t stop keeping us 20 minutes after the damn bell rings.” Veronica groans dragging her feet out of her 7th-period English class.

“Are you really gonna fight a teacher though Ronnie?” Her friend Christian asks slinging his backpack over his front.

“Maybe if she keeps it up!”

“Oh, there goes Mrs. Brown right there.”

“Fuck!” Veronica ducks behind Christian and he burst out into a fit of laughter. 

“I’m messing with you stupid.” Veronica punches him in the shoulder leaving him wincing in pain.

“Damn Ronnie that shit hurted.”

“Yeah shut up,” She opens the school’s front door for him, “Ladies first!”

“You’re so funny you know that?”

“Yup!”

They both walk outside letting the cold fall air hit their faces bringing a slight tinge of pink to both their cheeks as a shiver falls done their spines. Christian shudders setting down his backpack and pulling out his sweater.

“Damn it’s cold.” Christian says between chattering teeth slipping his sweater on over his head. 

“Where do you think Xio is?” Veronica asks, but just as the words left her mouth a small figure bolts past both of them sending them almost stumbling back. “That was Xio wasn’t it?” She groans, looking at Christian with an annoyed look secretly hoping that it really wasn’t her.

“Get back here Xiomara you freak!” Rebecca screamed, herself, and her friends running past in pursuit of their prey.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely our girl.” Christian chuckles and pats Veronica on the shoulder, she rolls her eyes, “You wanna follow them?’

“And risk getting out asses kicked?” She shrugs his hand off her shoulder, “No thanks, well meet up with her later she might be going to the forest anyway.” 

-

(Edwards POV)

“Damn it!” I wipe the sweat off my forehead before grabbing the soccer ball out of the goal, kicking it out into the field in frustration.

“Alright, Eddie why don’t you take a bit of a break you’ve worked hard enough. Go get some water and sit with Teddy.” Coach Bronson says giving me a firm pat on the back. I nod and head over to Ted whose sitting on the bleachers with a broken arm from a past game we played, I’ve known that kid for as long as I can remember.

“You seem, tense dude, what’s the deal?” He nudges me and I let out a sigh catching my breath again.

“I don’t know man I’ve just been feeling kinda weird lately. Nothing too crazy though I’m fine.” I assure my friend tapping his cast a couple of times. “How’s the arm doing today man?”

“Bro it hurts but its great because Maddy writes notes for me now in math so you bet I’m feeling alive with this cast on.” He winks at me and I laugh.

“Your horrible man.”

“Well, I do write with my right hand so-” He squints and looks behind us, “Goddamn!”

“What?” I ask, “What are you looking at?” I try to spot what exactly he’s looking at.

“Is that Xiomara man she’s booking it look at her go!” 

“Xiomara Garcia?” I ask finally spotting her being chased by a group of people.

“Yeah man, looks like she pissed off Rebecca again cause there she goes with her girls behind Xio.” I smile to myself as I watch her running off the school grounds there’s always been something about that girl I just don’t know what. She’s so strange but in a good way and she doesn’t really ever seem to care about what anyone thinks. She’s confident and pretty self-assured it seems, it’s cute.

“Yo?” I snap out of my thoughts and look back at Ted whose waving his hand in front of my face, “I said what do you think she did this time?” I look back to where I last spotted her running. She’s gone.

“I don’t know man.” I lean back against the bleachers, “I don’t know.”

-

(Xiomara POV)

My legs are getting tired, my breathing is heavy, and I feel like I’m gonna pass out. But I’m not going to give Rebecca the satisfaction of catching me, I’m almost there just a little bit more. I can see the stream that connects this world to my own little one. Come on I can make it. I turn my head for a split second to see them still behind me yelling for me to stop running spitting profanities at me. I pick up speed, its right there, and I let my feet lift off the ground. It feels almost as if time just stopped for just a split second. Like everything just ceased until my feet hit the ground again and I continue sprinting for a couple of feet before ducking behind a large rock.

“No way Rebecca!” I hear Jennifer squeal, “She's crazy, and you’re crazy if you think I’m jumping over this stupid river and going after her in those freaky woods!”

“Its a stream you idiot!” Rebecca barks back, I peek from behind the rock to see her throwing her hands up in frustration.

“I don’t care!”

“Yeah Becca come on plus she went into the Windy Woods and I’ve heard a lot of creepy things about that place.” Marissa agrees eyeing the forest, fiddling with her hand in an attempt to calm her anxiety.

“Come on Rebecca lets sit this one out.” Felicia tries to pull Rebecca away from the stream getting her arm smacked by Rebecca in return.

“You guys better hope that little freak gets lost in those woods, lets go.” She turns and stomps away her friends following like lost puppies. I exhale and close my eyes leveling myself between the ground and the rock, my body aching as if my heart is beating in every limb I have. I stand up and walk deeper into the forest, funny how everyone thinks this place is so scary and evil, it’s beautiful. Then again I’m sort of fine with everyone being afraid of it, means I don’t have to worry about other people being here too. But it’s weird how bad or scary things happen to everyone else in this town in these woods but me, I’m not complaining though but it’s strange I don’t know what it is but it feels like I’ve been coming here forever. Like I belong here. I’m ripped away from my thoughts when I hear a twig snapping behind me. Fuck did they follow me? I whip my head around and catch a glimpse of a head of dark purple hair peering out from behind a tree. What? None of Rebecca’s friends had purple hair.

“Hey!” I call out jogging over to the tree I saw the mysterious figure pop-out from. Thinking I was going to catch the stalker I round the tree ready to confront them. “Who are y-” I stop dead in my tracks, no one is there. That’s not possible I didn’t even see them leave the spot behind the tree no sound, no running, nothing. I looked up to see if they maybe climbed up but nothing was there, no signs of a person anywhere. I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the time, “Shit…” I mutter under my breath. It’s getting late I gotta grab my backpack from school and get home before my dad has a fit. I slowly tread back to the edge of the forest where the stream is, this time deciding to take the bridge that was a little ways down from where I jumped in order to escape Rebecca and her demons. I took one last look behind me at the forest chuckling softly before heading back towards the school. Guess I spoke too soon about weird things happening in that forest.

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Yay you made it! Okay now for a bit of extra clarification the main character in this series is Xiomara Garcia and this first little part is more of an introduction to some of the big main characters Xiomara, Edward, Christian, and Veronica. There are of course going to be more characters to be introduced but they will be introduced later in the future. I will be posting character descriptions and what actors kind of resemble them for Xiomara, Edward, Christian, and Veronica later! So if you have any questions about the series or characters please feel free to ask my inbox is always open! Thank you!