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thewintersoldierdisaster · 2 years ago

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a/n: happy playoffs season and happy recovery day for those that celebrated orthodox easter yesterday! i’m off work and napping after the gauntlet of this weekend 😂 this was an idea i had rolling around in my head and then i got an anon ask about doing an angsty fic of drei not dealing with missing the playoffs that well, so here we go! and while you’re all still getting more andrei fic, my loyalties for the series are with my moronic (affectionate) islanders 💙🧡

word count: 5.5k

tw: smut smut smut, angst involving andrei being a little bit of a jerk

summary: andrei can only put on a good face about missing the playoffs for so long

The end of the regular season rolls around quickly. The Canes win the Metro and earn home-ice advantage and Andrei cheers and celebrates with you on the couch, since he didn’t travel with the team for the last game. It wasn’t worth it, since it was just an overnight to Florida. After you turn the TV off though, his good mood fades a bit and he’s quiet, telling you his knee is a little stiff and sore from rehab and getting up and down during the game. You don’t press him and just curl up next to him, falling asleep long before he does.

He looks tired the next morning and you set a mug of coffee on the counter in front of him, doctored to perfection with his favorite white mocha creamer and two teaspoons of sugar. You’d usually tease him about his coffee-flavored sugar milk, but he doesn’t seem like he’s in the mood.

“Spasibo, solnyshka,” he murmurs, wrapping his hands around the mug and staring into it.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask lightly, scrambling half a dozen eggs for the two of you. Andrei will get the majority of the eggs and still somehow end up eating a few bites off your plate.

He shrugs. “Just tired,” he scrubs a hand over his face, dragging his skin down. His fingers scratch against his beard. He’s been growing it for a few days now and you’re enjoying the way it shades his jaw. Not to mention the way it feels on your skin when he goes down on you.

You’re curious what the beard means for Andrei’s mental state, since he’s never really gone this long without shaving. You can chalk it up to playoffs and that whole no-shaving superstition, but you’re not sure.

Plating up the eggs and toast, you ask, “still full of adrenaline from the game?”

Andrei’s lips twist in a wry smile. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

He digs into his eggs and doesn’t say anything else for a bit. You poke at your food, worrying about him. Andrei’s been a total rockstar since his initial injury, putting on a smile through the doctors appointments and surgery. He’s jumped feet first into rehab, taking it seriously and committing himself fully. He’s done so well too - walking around with his crutches and barely a limp. He’s even back driving earlier than the doctors said he would be. But you know this is going to be a difficult few weeks for him.

You get up from the table and brush a kiss over his cheek, running your hand through his hair. “I’ll see you later, okay? I’m going to be late for class.”

“Okay,” he tilts his face to the side and kisses the corner of your mouth, “have fun. Love you.”

His smile seems genuine enough, so you push your worry to the back of your mind and focus on class. Just a few more weeks before graduation and your schedule isn’t dictated by professors. It’ll be nice to have the freedom to travel with the team for the playoffs. Although, now that you think about it, you’re not sure if Andrei’s even going along to Long Island for games three and four. He hasn’t mentioned anything about the travel or your joining him. He hasn’t been traveling with the team for the away games during the regular season, but he’s been pretty positive about it.

You make a decision to be a little more attentive to him during the playoff run, and especially during the away games.

When you get back home from class, Andrei’s back to his usual cheerful self, cooking dinner and humming along to the Russian music playing on the Alexa. He’s chopping away and doesn’t notice you until you lean against the counter and say, “my own personal chef? What did I do to deserve this?” You reach forward and snag a piece of cucumber off the cutting board, munching happily since it seems that Andrei’s worked through whatever was bothering him yesterday and this morning.

He smiles at you softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. “I don’t have too much else to do after rehab.” He shrugs. “So I cook.”

“Well,” you swipe another piece of cucumber, “you’re getting very good at it. Maybe if the hockey thing doesn’t work out, you can be a chef.”

It’s a flippant comment, something you don’t really think about as you’re saying it, but Andrei’s smile flickers and his eyes shutter a bit. Before you even have a chance to kick yourself mentally, he’s shaking his head, joking, “I don’t have the attitude for it. I’m not like that one on TV, the Hell Kitchen guy?”

“Gordon Ramsey?” You clarify, totally unable to see Andrei shouting and screaming like that. You know he has a little bit of a temper - he’s Russian and a hockey player, after all - but in the year and a half you’ve been dating him, you’ve never seen him lose his cool off the ice.

“Him, yeah,” Andrei nods and starts fixing a dressing for the salad. “I would be too excited to try all the food to yell.”

You snort. “Understatement of the century, Drei. I’ve literally never met anyone with an appetite like yours.”

He smirks at you, picking up the easy layup and commenting, “especially for that delicious cunt of yours.”

Despite having heard nearly every possible combination of dirty talk out of Andrei’s mouth and with that stupidly hot accent, your face flushes with heat and your stomach flips. Still leaning against the counter, you shift subtly, pressing your thighs together against the flood of arousal between your legs. “Stop that,” you murmur, waving him off.

“Solnyshka,” Andrei purrs, his voice like velvet, “don’t you like it when I say filthy things to you?”

“Andrei…” you warn him, voice shaking a bit. He knows that voice of his turns you on to an unreasonable degree. Some little part in the back of your brain that’s not clouded over with lust is recognizing that he’s changing the subject, pivoting away from talk of hockey and his new cooking hobby, distracting you from asking about how he’s feeling. But you can’t seem to focus on that right now.

He grins and comes around the counter, his gait a little stiff from the brace, and pulls you into his arms. “You don’t want me to tell you what I want to do to you?” His hands trail up your arms, fingers brushing against the back of your neck when he pushes your hair off your shoulder so he can lean down and whisper into your ear, “you don’t want me to tell you that my cock has been rock hard and aching all day for you. How I’ve been waiting to fill your sweet cunt with every inch of my cock until you’re screaming my name.”

A strangled noise leaves your throat and your knees buckle a little, but Andrei wraps one thick arm around your waist and holds you against his chest. The hard ridge of his cock presses against your lower stomach and you shiver, leaning into him subconsciously. He grins and nips at your ear lobe. “Feel that? All for you, milaya. Every single inch is yours. Maybe you don’t want it in your pussy tonight, maybe you want it in your mouth?” His voice drops an octave. “Should I fuck your throat, make you swallow? Stretch your jaw wide until it hurts?”

“Andrei…” you mumble his name weakly, heart pounding in your chest, mouth watering at the images his words are putting in your mind. Your hand slides down his chest, pressing under his shirt so you can scrape your nails against his skin and slip your hands down the front of his pants. Before you can touch him, his other hand moves lightning fast and grabs your wrist, holding your fingers mere centimetres from where you want them.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, brushing a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.

You wiggle your fingers in his grip and lean up to kiss him harshly. “Andrei, I want you to fuck me,” you whisper against his lips. “But I want my hands on you first. I want you to come first.” When you’re in the mood, you can give as good as you get with the dirty talk. “I like seeing your face when I make you come, the way your eyes get dark and your pretty, talented mouth falls open. Let me make you come, Andrei.”

His pupils are blown out and you grin at him, knowing you’ve turned the tables effectively. His grip on your wrist falters and you take your opportunity to break free and wrap your fingers around him. He inhales sharply and his hand on your back tenses. Your hand moves slowly, almost lazily, over him and he grunts, dropping his head to bury his face in the crown of your head. You work him over patiently, the looseness of his basketball shorts giving you space to move. He mumbles in Russian, words muffled by your hair, and you whisper to him. “So good, such a good boy,” the coil of heat in your own stomach is tightening. You’re turning yourself on even more by getting him off. The tip of his cock is leaking, coating your hand and making it easier for your palm to slide over him.

Andrei’s hands fist in the fabric of your shirt and his hips thrust in your hand, even as he’s crushing you against his body. You tangle your free hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, the little hair wings that you love so much, and tug gently. The lack of space between your bodies forces your strokes to be even shorter and Andrei’s clearly trying to hold on and force himself to not come. You bite a little at the underside of his jaw and lick the spot to soothe it. “Drei, baby, let go. Come for me, please,” you whisper into his skin and tighten your grip on him, pumping him once, twice, three times more before he’s coming with a shout of your name, spilling all over your hand and his pants. Andrei holds onto you tightly while he comes, grunting when he’s finally spent.

“Dirty trick,” he mutters, dazed, when he finally has his breath back. You pull your hand from his dick and stick your index finger in your mouth, sucking his cum off of it, even as the rest drips down your wrist. Andrei groans again, a tortured sound.

“Learned from the best,” you smirk, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. You’re glad to see that a lot of the shadows that have been haunting his eyes the past few days are gone, for now at least. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll finish dinner.”

He shakes his head and starts off to the bathroom, but not before he swats your ass a bit. You wash your hands thoroughly and finish making dinner - not that it’s difficult since he’d been almost done with roasting the chicken and vegetables when you started mauling each other. Andrei’s back in a few minutes, wearing low slung grey sweats and an old t-shirt. His hair is damp from the shower and he looks tired, but relaxed. “Hi,” he murmurs, coming around behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Andrei drops his chin to your shoulder and you hold up a piece of chicken on a fork for him to taste.

“Thank you,” he says after he chews and swallows.

“For what? The best hand job of your life?” You tease, trying to keep the mood light.

He huffs a laugh, breath ruffling your hair, and deadpans, “exactly. That.” He squeezes you in a hug and you don’t talk about it anymore, instead you fill him in on what’s been happening in your classes and run through the plans for the weekend.

Geno flies in on Friday and the brothers spend some quality time together, laughing and chatting in Russian. You don’t mind it at all, knowing that Andrei’s always at his happiest when his family is around. Geno joins Andrei in rehab too. They come back from the facility sweaty, but Andrei doesn’t have that look in his eye. The one that says even though he’s progressing faster than initially expected, it’s still not fast enough for his liking.

Elena and Igor join you for Easter church services on Saturday night and stay over at Andrei’s house so you can all have breakfast together in the morning. It’s a nice, relaxing day - you’re completely stuffed from all the food and no one mentions the puck shaped elephant in the room around Andrei.

But then of course Monday morning rolls around and Andrei sleeps through his alarm. Well, you’re pretty sure he’s awake but faking sleep so he doesn’t have to talk to you. It hurts a little, his ignoring you, but you know today is going to be hard. Instead of trying to wake him up or talk to him right away, you get yourself ready, trying to be quiet, and make breakfast for yourself and a protein smoothie for Andrei before going back upstairs.

He’s in the bathroom when you get there, brushing his teeth and staring blankly at his own reflection.

“I made you a smoothie,” you say, trying to keep your tone cheerful. “Chocolate almond cherry.”

“Sounds good,” Andrei mumbles around toothbrush and toothpaste froth. He spits and slides past you through the doorway. Your lips twist in an effort to not say anything. Andrei gets dressed quickly, in his new uniform of shorts and a plain t-shirt, dark baseball cap backwards over his hair.

“Are you…um…what’s the plan for today, Drei?” You ask carefully, following him down to the kitchen. The last you heard, Andrei was going to go to the first two home games and the rumour was that he was going to run the siren at the open of game one. But you’re honestly not sure what his mental state is like right now.

He shrugs one shoulder, “rehab.” His answer is short and you’re trying not to take it personally.

“I know that,” you sigh. “That’s not an all day event though.”

“I guess I’m going to the arena,” he gulps back half of his smoothie in one shot. “You don’t have to come.”

Okay, yeah, that one hurts.

“Why wouldn’t I want to come?” You lean a hip against the counter and tilt your head at him. If your tone is a little sharp, sue you.

Andrei shrugs again and you’re really starting to hate that gesture coupled with the flat look in his eyes. “I’m not playing and I wouldn’t sit with you. Why waste the time?”

You squint at him. “Do you think that I don’t support the whole team? Andrei, it’s not a waste of time for me to go, for you to know I’m there supporting you, even if I’m not sitting with you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbles under his breath.

“Jesus,” you mutter to yourself. Louder, “we’ll talk about this later, but I have to go to class. But remember that whether or not you’re playing or I’m sitting with you, I’m on your side.”

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him good-bye, but Andrei turns his head at the last second and you get his cheek. It’s a goddamn gut punch and you manage to hold back your emotions as you rush from the house. But the second you’re in your car, tears stream down your cheeks. You swipe at them furiously, needing to get on the road but not wanting to drive while you’re emotional. It’s so damn hard to know how his mood is going to be affected by the playoffs and getting the cold shoulder and the apathetic version of Andrei is harder than you thought it would be. You know he’s not doing it on purpose, but that fact that he won’t talk about what’s going on is making everything harder.

With Geno having had the same injury and surgery, you were hoping that it might be easier for Andrei to cope, but as Geno himself had pointed out when you spoke with him privately the other day, the Red Wings weren’t in the playoffs the year of his injury. Andrei’s missing an entirely different opportunity.

A small, horrible little part of you wishes the Canes hadn’t even made the playoffs, so that way Andrei wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines, watching his friends join the dance. But then he’d probably blame himself for the team falling short, so it doesn’t even matter in the end. Either outcome means Andrei will feel guilt or sadness.

You just wish you could take away his pain.

The rest of the day passes in a blur - you’re handing in final papers and wrapping up your final semester - and Andrei’s gone when you get home, later than you planned.

“What the fuck?” You mutter, standing in the spot in the driveway that usually has his car. Still in the driveway, you text him, asking if he went to the arena early. It takes him longer than usual to reply and when he does, it’s a short response. (“Yes, said you didn’t have to come if you don’t want to.”) Honest to God, you’re ready to throw your phone against the garage door, but you’re too mature for that. If Andrei doesn’t want you at the game, you won’t go.

You still send him the routine pre-game emoji text, even though you’re annoyed with him and this time he does send back a string of unintelligible emojis, so he’s not totally checked out.

Following along on Twitter and TV isn’t the same, but you do get to see video of Andrei smiling while he works the siren. He looks good in his suit, normal, like nothing’s wrong with him.

The game is hard-fought, an eventual win for the Canes, and Andrei’s acting like nothing’s wrong when he gets home. He kisses you and twists the end of your ponytail around his fingers. “You could’ve gone to bed, solnyshka,” he says and it hits you that he hasn’t used the term of endearment all day.

Swallowing back emotion, you smile faintly. “Somehow playoff hockey gets the adrenaline going even from the couch,” you joke and Andrei chuckles, shedding his suit jacket and sitting down heavily next to you. He loosens his tie with two fingers and pops the top button on his shirt. He had already kicked off his shoes at the front door, so now he props his feet up on the coffee table and bends his right knee a bit.

“Mhm,” he hums. “It was a good game.”

He doesn’t say anything else and focuses on the TV, where an old episode of CSI is playing. You know he doesn’t have any idea what’s happening because he never watches crime shows, but he’s watching the action like his life depends on it. He clearly doesn’t want to talk anymore, so you sigh and drop your hands to your knees. “I’m going to go to bed. Unless you want to hang out…” You look at him out of the corner of your eye.

Andrei shifts on the couch and sighs heavily. He shakes his head, but reaches his hand out over the couch cushion and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together. You squeeze gently and he squeezes back. He drops his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes. The TV keeps playing and you’re both quiet, sitting there in the dark den until the killer is caught and the credits roll. After the episode ends, you’re still quiet until Andrei gets to his feet, still holding your hand, and pulls you along to your bedroom. It’s so strange for the silence to echo around you - usually you and Andrei are constantly taking and laughing and joking with each other. But he climbs into bed next to you and wraps his body around yours, your favorite big spoon. He buries his face in your hair, his nose bumping against the back of your head, and mumbles, “spokoynoy nochi.”

“Night, baby,” you whisper back through a yawn. As you drift off to sleep, Andrei’s body is still tense behind yours.

The next two days are quiet and tense. Andrei doesn’t contribute more than he really has to in conversation and when the Islanders take Game Two, his mood plummets. The drive home from PNC on Tuesday night is horrible - Andrei slams the radio off and drives like a maniac, forcing you to hold the “oh shit” bar in a death grip. His jaw is clenched and the skin around his eyes is tight. You want to reach out and touch his hand, but he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and you’re almost afraid to startle him.

“I should’ve been out there,” he snaps, finally speaking after you’ve gotten into the house and changed into pajamas. His eyes are stormy and his fingers tap restlessly against the side of his thigh.

“Drei…” you sigh, sitting cross legged on the bed. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“I could’ve scored a goal,” he shoots back. “A game winner. Or a tie. Or I could’ve blocked a shot.”

You shake your head, “but you don’t know that.”

“Yeah,” he drawls, voice dripping with derision, “we’ll never know. Since I had to go and tear my fucking ACL.”

He starts pacing the floor in front of the bed, his gait getting jerkier and more uneven the longer he walks. On one pass, he kicks at a decorative pillow, sending it flying across the room. You pull your legs to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees - it’s not the moment to try and talk to him, he won’t listen to any platitudes you could say.

Andrei’s cursing in Russian now, working himself up, and since you can’t understand what he’s saying, you have no way of calming him down. He kicks another pillow and mutters a forceful “blyad,” which you actually do know and finally seems to run out of steam. His shoulders sag and he turns to look at you. You bite at your lip - he looks so tired and sad. Andrei’s carrying a heavy burden, one that he put on his own shoulders, and you just don’t know how to help him.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. You reach out a hand and grasp his other wrist, tugging gently.

“Just come to bed and sleep, okay?” You say softly. “Just sleep and if you can’t, wake me up and I’ll be here with you.”

Andrei nods and gets into bed, moving carefully and stiffly.

“You want me to rub your knee?” Your voice is quietly and tentative, as if you were trying to soothe a wild horse. You’re not sure what might set him off right now.

“Please,” he mutters. “It’s stiff.”

You hum sympathetically and drag his leg onto your lap, rubbing your hands over the muscle and digging your thumbs into the knots. He has a few scars on his shin and knee now and you’re careful around those spots, more gentle the closer you get to his knee. Andrei relaxes against the pillows as you work, closing his eyes and tucking one hand behind his head. You scrape your nails over his skin too, scratching lightly, and he sighs. You work your hands over his lower thigh too, the muscle relaxing as you work. His leg gets heavier in your lap the closer Andrei gets to sleep, when he’s not subconsciously holding some of his weight off of you. You can tell the moment he finally falls asleep - his leg is heavy on your lap and his breathing is even.

Andrei’s face is soft in sleep, the lines that were forming around his eyes and on his forehead smoothing out. He finally looks relaxed and peaceful and you hope he sleeps through the night. Carefully, you settle his leg back on the mattress and crawl up next to him, tucking yourself against his side and falling asleep quickly, emotionally exhausted.

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed and your stomach sinks, until you smell coffee and pancakes. A small, hopeful smile fights to form on your lips and you cross your fingers that Andrei’s feeling better after last night. You tug a sweatshirt on your your head and pad downstairs.

“Morning, solnyshka,” Andrei greets you with a careful smile. It’s not quite his normal caliber, missing toothed smile, but it’s leagues better than what you’ve been getting out of him the past week or so.

“Morning,” you smile back, sitting at the counter and pulling the mug of coffee he had set out for you close. It’s doctored perfectly and you hum happily as the caffeine hits your brain. Andrei watches you with affection in his eyes.

He flips a pancake in the pan and nudges a plate towards you. “Felt like practicing my breakfast skills,” he comments idly. “Hope pancakes are okay.”

He’s always been pretty good with cooking breakfast and you know this is his way of apologizing for his outburst last night. You dig into a pancake, after drowning them in syrup, and tease, “well, they’re not your mom’s syrniki, but I suppose they’ll do.”

Andrei snorts a laugh and keeps working on his pancakes. “Next time,” he promises. He sips on his own coffee and flips another pancake onto the plate.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you mumble around a mouthful of pancake, holding your hand up in front of your mouth to block the view of your half chewed food.

He smiles at you and leans forward to swipe a drop of maple syrup off of your chin with the pad of his thumb. Holding eye contact with you, Andrei sticks his thumb in his mouth and licks it clean. Your stomach flutters with want and it’s nice to know that Andrei clearly still wants you. Your cheeks heat up and Andrei’s smile becomes a little shy when he turns back to the bowl of batter.

You eat quietly while he alternated between making pancakes and eating them. The silence is comfortable though, not as tense as it has been and you’re hoping this means Andrei is turning a corner.

“So,” he starts, once he’s finished with the pancakes. His back is to you while he washes the frying pan and batter bowl. The set of his broad shoulders is stiff and he’s holding himself like he’s trying to curl inward and protect himself. You wait. “I’m not going to Long Island. I made the decision not to travel.”

“Oh,” you reply, not really sure how he’s feeling about that choice. His tone is carefully neutral and you can’t see his face. “Did, um, what did Rod say?”

You hold your breath while you wait for Andrei to reply. He scrubs at the bowl and says, “he wants me to come. Team wants me to come, but I can’t go. I don’t want to go.”

“I think that it’s okay if you don’t go,” you say gently. “If…if that’s going to make you feel better -“

“Both options suck,” he cuts you off harshly. “I go, but I don’t play? Terrible. I watch from the couch? Terrible. I just want to play and win.”

His shoulders are practically up by his ears now and you hop off the stool, slipping around the island, and lightly press the palm of your hand between his shoulder blades. He leans subtly against your touch and you can feel his muscles shift and relax. Encouraged by his reaction, you scratch your nails gently against the fabric of his shirt and say, “it sucks, Drei. It really just sucks and I don’t know what to say.”

“I wish I could play,” he says softly, sounding so miserable your heart breaks into little pieces. He’s been so positive and strong since the initial injury, you should’ve expected that the playoffs would be hard.

Your hand slides from his back around his side and up over his chest, resting against his heart. You tap your fingers against his shirt and he looks down at your hand before looking over at you. “You will play again, you know that. Next year is going to be amazing for you,” you can feel emotion clogging your throat. “Andrei, I know it’s horrible now, but I think you should go to Long Island. You’re going to be even more upset if you’re not there supporting the boys.”

“It’s too hard to watch from the press box,” he mutters.

“I think it’s going to be harder for you to watch from the couch,” you reply. Your lips twist up in a sly smirk, “unless you would rather be on the couch with me to distract you from the game.”

Andrei scoffs, but there’s no real heat in it. It seems like he’s just drained. “Can’t just fuck away the pain of missing the playoffs,” he says, a little sharper than he probably meant to.

“I could give it the old college try,” you tease, fingers dancing over his chest, trailing down low on his stomach. You know he’s not in the mood and you would never take it that far when he’s being vulnerable with you, but your movements do get a genuine, if small, smile from your boyfriend and that’s really all you can ask for right now.

“Come with me,” he says abruptly. “To Long Island. You can’t sit with me in the press box, but please be there?”

“I can make that work,” you laugh a little. Growing serious, you continue, “even if I couldn’t, you know I’m always there for you, right?”

Andrei nods. “I know. I haven’t been doing a very good job of showing it.”

You press your cheek against his bicep, giving it a quick little kiss. “You’ve been going through so much, give yourself a break. The past month has been a lot,” you smile a little against his arm. “Besides, if you’d like to make it up to me, graduation is coming and presents are always appreciated.”

That gets a genuine laugh out of Andrei and he shifts, dropping the bowl into the sink and wrapping you up in a hug so your chest is pressed against his. He kisses the top of your head and holds you close. “I’m sorry, solnyshka. I know I haven’t been the easiest this past week. I’ve been a zasranets.”

“If that means jerk, then yeah,” you laugh against his chest. His heart beats rhythmically under your cheek and you feel safe and secure. After the rollercoaster of this past week, it’s so nice that he’s talking again.

“Asshole, actually.”

“That too.”

“I love you.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Andrei groans and you laugh. “Fuck, maybe you can distract me by riding my dick,” he teases, immediately aroused by your minimal grasp on the Russian language. He’s been trying to teach you, but only a few phrases here and there have stuck. You’re not above weaponizing them to get what you want out of Andrei. But this time you just wanted to distract him from the heaviness of the conversation.

“I can always try,” you grin, pulling back a little and reaching up to kiss him. “I wouldn’t mind listening to your thoughts either, you know, if you want to talk about things.”

“I know,” he rests his chin on the top of your head and you feel his jaw working a little. “I never thought this would happen to me, you know? Even after Geno, I think, don’t worry Andrei, that won’t happen to you. And then it did.”

“And then it did,” you agree softly, thrilled that he’s opening up. It’s always better when you and Andrei talk.

“What if I’m not as good as I was?” The question is practically a whisper.

You lean back and look up at him, Andrei’s arms wrapped loosely around your back. His face is serious. “That’s a possibility,” you reply honestly and his lips turn down into a deeper frown, but you rush continue. “But I know you, Andrei Svechnikov, and I know that you’re going to work that muscled ass of yours off until you’re even better than you were before the injury.”

His eyes look suspiciously damp and he smiles weakly. “I hope you’re right, solnyshka,” he says, sighing.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “When will you learn, Mister Svechnikov? I’m always right,” you wink at him and he laughs. “Now,” you continue, “let me go so I can buy a plane ticket.”

Wiggling from his grip, you giggle, feeling lighter than you have all week. Andrei reaches for your hand as you dance away, catching the tips of your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss.

You know it’s not going to be smooth sailing from here, even if and especially if the Canes continue to progress, but Andrei is definitely worth it.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader

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writingintheshadowsforever · 2 years ago

Text

Riri Williams x Reader Coffee Shop Meetings

"Okay will that mocha be hot or iced? And can I get a name for the order please?" The barista asked her fingertip hovering over the screen.

Riri never got the chance to answer either question as you came up from behind with a drink in hand.

"It's hot and her name is Riri, or as I like to call her my number one customer." You held out a large cup with a smoke tendrils coming from the small opening in the lid.

"I ordered a medium" Riri stated eyeing the cup with humor.

"I know this one's on the house" You told her throwing her a quick wink. After she finally reached out and took the cup from your hand. Your eyes stayed locked on hers as she put the cup to her mouth, and tilted it upward letting the warm chocalatey liquid coat her tongue lighting up her tastebuds with delight.

Riri savored the perfect drink closing her eyes, and biting back a moan. From now on if you weren't the one making her drink then she didn't want one at all. "Okay what's your secret?"

"It wouldn't be a secret now if I told you." You answered her with a smirk.

"I guess it wouldn't here though this last thing I need is for my favorite barista getting in trouble for. Handing out free drinks." Riri fished a twenty out of her pocket to slam it down on the counter.

Your fellow coworker's hand slid over to take the money, but you beat her to it snatching the bill up in the blink of an eye. You cocked your head to the side motioning for the girl to leave, and she waltz away without a word. Just gave you a knowing look with a teasing smile on her face as she disappeared into the back.

You turned back to Riri pushing the money back towards her. "It's cool maybe I like trouble?"

Riri quirked her eyebrow a smirk of her own now playing on her lips. "Is that so?"

"Yeah" you said.

"Well that's good to know but I don't need you getting into the kind of trouble that's going to get you fired." Riri said reaching to take a hold on your hand. Doing her best to ignore the electric feeling going through her body from physical contact with you. "Take the money and keep the change alright." She placed the twenty in your hand this time, and folded your fingers around it. "If you wanted to take me out for coffee all you had to was ask ma."

Her last response threw your game off leaving you only able to stutter a pathetic "yeah."

Her smirk grew bigger as she took another sip of her drink, and sauntered away throwing one more look over her shoulder before her figure vanished around the corner.

Riri Williams was going to be the death of you.

You were sure of it. The young girl started coming into the small cafe where you worked a few weeks ago. The interactions between you and her was normal. She was a customer who quickly became a regular, and you were the barista ringing her order up then preparing her drink. Somewhere along the way the two of you started to become more. She didn't have to order anymore, because her drink would be ready to go. The second she walked through the door. You didn't have to tell her how much the drink cost. Riri had the exact amount down to the penny in your hand as the two of exchanged flirtatious looks. While trading off the drink for the money, she made sure her hand grazed yours. When you handed off the cup, and you let out a little shiver at the little sparks of emotion that crept up inside.

Most people would refer to the giddy feeling in your stomach whenever you saw her as butterflies. The analogy didn't do the feelings justice. No not butterflies fluttering around more like bees buzzing around bringing a annoying ring to your ears. As their stingers pierced your insides a hundred times over demanding you make a move. Because the thoughts in your head, and the emotions in your heart were acting as one urging to be free. After all Riri had made it more than obvious she was feeling you too. She just gave you the invitation to ask her out, so why were you still hesitating.

She extended the olive branch and instead of acting on it. You clammed up like a school girl experiencing a crush for the first time. It didn't take long for the answer to surface as the walls you worked so hard to build over the past year came right back up. Once the emotional high finally faded away after a few minutes, and two grumpy customers in the short span of time.

"You know it really wouldn't hurt to take her out for coffee. Something good could come from it." Diamond said hours later striking up the conservation during the closing hours of the cafe. She was your favorite coworker and one real friend in this cruel world. The one person in this world who knew about the rough year. You suffered last year that changed you from the carefree, outgoing girl to the guarded social recluse.

"I don't know anything about her. She could be just like everyone else in my past life." You replied doing your best to keep your tone neutral.

Diamond hopped down from the counter walking over to snatch the broom out of your hands.

"Come on D I want to get out of here at a decent time, unlike you I have to work in the morning."

"See that right there puts your whole I don't care front to bed." She exclaimed pointing a finger at you.

"What" you sighed holding her your hands in confusion.

"You only worked one morning shift a week before this girl came along, and now your schedule is filled with nothing but morning shifts. Plus the closing shift as well you are literally working yourself to death just to see her everyday."

You wanted to tell her she was wrong, but you couldn't argue with her reasonings. When she had the receipts to back them up you and Riri meeting each other was by chance the first time. But every time after that was planning on your part at least. The manager at the cafe could be a real hard-ass sometimes, and finally ran off the most reliable barista on the morning shift. He spent weeks trying to find someone to fill in the vacant spot on morning shift, so he could go back to getting his beauty sleep.

Both you and Diamond turned him down numerous times in the past. Not even the bribe of raising your pay by five dollars could sway either of you. It was a faithful phone call from his sister alerting him his dog was sick, and needed to see the vet first thing the next morning. That finally convinced you to take pity on him and cover the morning shift for him just this once. But then you laid eyes on Riri Williams, and the rest was history. The manager told you she came by every now and then in the morning, and you had never seen her pretty face on night shift. So you decided right then to make the switch, and just work both shifts with a two-hour break in between.

Riri had you down bad for her from day one, and it made you wonder if you had the same effect on her.

"The money is good and I need it" You lied.

"Bullshit your parents pay your rent, and you made more than enough in the past to cover the rest of your bills" she argued.

"I'm saving up to get back in school" You tried again.

Diamond shook her head. "Now see I would believe that but you made it pretty clear. Last year you were done with MIT when the counselor lady came around here offering to help you find a way back in. You gave her the middle finger and told her to pass the message along to the board."

You swore under your breath forgetting she had been present for that unruly moment. In your defense the counselor picked the wrong time to try and patch things up with you. It was too soon you had only been kicked out for a week or so. When the incident happened and the last thing you needed was to for. The lady who you were low-key blaming for the loss of your scholarship, to come around offering her assistance.

"Fine you're right" You admitted in defeat sending a glare her way. When she nodded her head in agreement with cocky smile. "But that doesn't mean I'm asking her out." You finished earning a scoff from Diamond.

"Y/N I swear if you don't make a move tomorrow I will" Diamond threatened narrowing her eyes at you.

You snorted shrugging your shoulders. "Good luck with doing that when you don't work morning shifts."

"I already switched with Cyrus, so you will be seeing me bright and early in the morning bestie." She shot back watching as your face morphed into a mask of worry. Yet she couldn't contain the excitement on her's. Diamond had been rooting for you and the mystery girl she only knew by name to go out for a week.

"Bring your A-game tomorrow from what I hear she's pretty good at flirting. You don't want to be outmatched." Diamond patted you on the shoulder then proceeded to walk past you to finish up the sweeping.

"Shut up" You grumbled under your breath.

The Next Morning

If someone asked ten-year old you what superpower would she want if you could have any in the world. You would've say the power to summon fudge brownies. Yeah not really cool or useful but you were ten and brownies were your favorite dessert back then.

If fifteen-year old you was asked the same question you would put more thought into it, and being a fan of the Avengers. You'd say something like super strength, or telekinesis. Those were badass powers.

And if you were asked that question right now the answer would be time manipulation with no hesitation. You would kill to have the ability to slow down or even stop time right now. As your eyes stayed rooted to the digital clock mounted on the far left wall of the cafe. In less than a minute Riri was going to be walking through the door. Diamond stood by your side emptying out bottles of flavored syrup into one another to fill them up, and discard the useless one.

She was sticking by close to keep you from chickening out. If you tried to back down Diamond wouldn't hesitate to step in.

"Here comes your girl get ready." Diamond whispered in your ear bringing you out of your train of thought. You looked up from the clock to see Riri approaching the entrance from the window.

You should've locked the door, or better yet called out.

Her drink was already in your hand. You fixed a minute ago knowing it would still be heated for her, but cool enough for her to drink without burning her tongue. Would she let you steal a kiss with a burning tongue? Probably not.

You walked around the corner to meet her in the middle of the lobby. She paused right in front of you with a soft smile, and teasing eyes. "I guess that's my drink."

"Who else would it belong to?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know you could be out her memorizing everybody drinks. Maybe that's how you get all the girls."

"Nah there's only girl who's order I've ever taken care to remember and she's standing in front of me. She's the only girl worth remembered in my book" You replied.

"And you still ain't ask her out yet" Riri shot back.

"Well maybe today is the day."

Her eyes widened a bit at your response, and if it wasn't for her melanated skin. The blush on her face would visible, but you could tell the heat was rising up on her cheeks. Because the same thing was happening to you, but Riri was better at hiding it.

"Oh yeah well she's waiting" Riri said after five long seconds of silence.

"I wanna take you out Riri but not for coffee, maybe lunch today" You told her.

"What's wrong with coffee?"

"I don't want anyone else making your drink. You might fall for them" You joked.

"Naw ma ain't nobody competing with you." Her eyes trailed up and down taking in your body. You held back a shy giggle to maintain composure. Riri reached out to take the drink taking a long sip, like she always did.

"Lunch is fine with me as long as it's after three. I got class from now till then after that I'm all yours babygirl."

"Cool what college you go to? I can pick you up at five after I run home and change." You said letting the giddy feeling on the inside seep into your voice.

"I'm at MIT it's not far from here" Riri told you frowning as your face sank when she mentioned the college.

"You go to MIT." It was neither a question or statement but an accusation. Dread filled your voice like some impending doom was going to come raining down on you any second now.

"Um yeah is there a problem with that?" Riri asked a bit unsure of what caused your change in demeanor.

Diamond saw your body go rigid from behind and was inching her way around the corner.

"Is this some sort of joke?" You demanded in a small voice. The sinking in your stomach was growing worse, and you were happy that once you didn't eat this morning. The food might've been coming back up right now.

"No what makes you think that?"

The chime went off alerting all of you of an incoming wave of customers. You glanced over Riri's head to see who the patrons were, and fear took a hold of your body. At the sight of the group of kids who made your life a living hell after your indefinite suspension from the school.

Your gaze went back to Riri now but it was hardened this time, as the giddiness got replaced by betrayal. Her presence here no longer heartwarming now it turned your heart black.

Riri witnessed saw the fear flash in your eyes and turned around to see who caused it. Her confusion for the sudden change in atmosphere grew when all she saw was a few of her fellow peers.

Derek, Aiden, Malik, Claire, and Sydney piled through the door and into the lobby. All of them were current clients of her's, and had been using her services for a whole semester now. They were the generic rich kids who you couldn't tell rather they actually earned the grades and GPA to get into MIT, or if their parents paved the way for their kids with money. Riri knew they could be assholes and caught them giving a few other scholarship kids a hard time. Occasionally but they left her alone considering she was standing between them, and a failing grade in multiple classes.

But you didn't attend MIT so what beef did you have with them?

"Well if it ain't our favorite little dropout" Derek said stopping right beside Riri. His posse followed suit with Aiden flanking her right side, and the rest crowding her from behind.

"Don't you mean kick-out" Claire corrected with a sickly sweet smile.

"Oh yeah that's right you did get kicked out for being too dumb right y/n." Derek continued to mess with you. "So what's the new game plan get Riri here to help you cheat your way back in."

Her name leaving his mouth is all that it took. Before you regarded her with suspicion but now hatred filled your eyes as you shook your head, and whirled around to go back to the counter.

"Y/N wait I don-" Riri started reaching out to grab your arm, but Derek pushed her back down earning a hard shove from the surprisingly small girl. He stumbled back a few steps recovering with ease. The push didn't faze him, and the arrogance on his face didn't falter.

"Don't waste your time not even you could help her. She's a lost cause this cafe is as good as it's going to get for her, and she knows it." He raised his voice to be sure you heard the job dig.

"Derek chill the hell out what's your problem?" Riri seethed placing a hand on his chest to stop him from advancing to the counter. Where you were cowering with teary eyes. Your back was to the group as Diamond took over the register shivering with rage at the turn of events.

His friends moved on to order their drinks making the process diffcult for your best friend. By adding on various ingredients, some the cafe didn't have and they knew it. They requested alternatives knowing the last thing Diamond wanted to do was acknowledge them in anyway beyond looking at them.

You were tempted to turn around and dowse all of them with scorching hot coffee. But the action would no doubt result in you getting fired, and possibly charged with a felony.

Derek pushed his way past Riri who stood frozen in the same spot watching as he went to place an order, and joined his friends at a nearby round table.

Her eyes caught yours for a brief second while you fixed the drinks, and the dead look you sent her way broke her on the inside. Okay so you use to go to MIT and had a past with Derek and his gang of idiots. But what did that have to do with her? She was feeling you for real and was a bit hurt you thought the worst of her so fast.

You placed the five drinks on a tray and made your way to the round table. Aiden stood up to meet you halfway, and what happened next no one could predict. Instead of taking the drinks from your arms his foot tangled with yours. The action sent you tumbling forward and you watched out of the corner of your eye. Aiden step back not making a single effort to stop the fall.

You tried to catch yourself and angled the tray of drinks upward, but a light push from behind sent you to the floor on your side. The drinks followed slipping all over your upper body. Your skin was lit a blaze by the hot liquid but the ice cubes soothed the burning a bit, but not enough. A painful cry spilled from your lips from the impact to the hard tiled floor, and your scalded skin.

Sydney hovered over you with a snicker that is until a fist met her face. Courtesy of Diamond who rushed over the second Aiden stood up, but wasn't able to reach you in time. The beat down probably would've been worse but at that point. The manager walked in whistling a low tune, but his joyful morning turned sour at the sight before him.

Diamond advancing on a retreating Sydney cradling her face in her hands. You pushing yourself to your feet trying to wipe away the sticky mess, but avoid the minor burns on your arms. Derek and Claire laughing while Aiden took pictures.

It was a circus with Riri standing on the side watching the whole thing unfold in horror and guilt. She felt ashamed for not stepping in and backing you up. Standing up for the people she cared about was never something she hesitated to do, and she had never been a coward before.

"Diamond that's enough" Tyler yelled finally recovering from the shock to act. He placed himself between his employee and the customer. Diamond shouted at him trying to explain what happened, but Sydney butted in with her lies.

You couldn't take it anymore the overwhelming pain, the embarrassment, and the anger helped you reached your boiling point. Once things were cleared up Tyler wouldn't have any other choice but to take the customers's sides. He always did.

No way were you going to let him force you to apologize this time. Your eyes stung with tears so you hurried to the back of the cafe. Derek wasn't going to get the satisfaction of seeing you cry never again.

You heard the soft swish of the door being pushed open, and did your best to gather yourself. "Tyler I'm not saying sorry to those pricks. You will have to fire me this time."

"Not Tyler and not expecting an apology either maybe an explanation, but I'm really here to check up on you."

You recognized the voice instantly and whirled around with fury. "Get the hell out Riri."

"Hey I came back here to see if you w-

"Does it look like I'm okay?" You cried out letting out a harsh chuckle. "Did you not witness the fall, or the drinks spilling all over me thanks to your little friends?"

"Hold on th-" Riri tried but once again you cut her off. "Two months I've been pinning after you for two months, and it was a ruse this whole time. Was this the original plan, or was Derek just too impatient? Did you plan to humiliate when I picked you up today?"

"Y/N I swear I ain't have nothing to do this" Riri shouted back.

"So its a coincidence that they show up here with you. I hadn't seen them in months after leaving my last job to getaway from them, and the relentless teasing. Then you come along flirting with me, gaining my trust, and now they're here please." You scoffed crossing your arms over your chest, wincing at the sting of the burns.

Her expression softened and Riri took a step toward you. A black cloth filled with something caught your eye. "Its ice I know those burns hurt." she whispered holding it out for you to take.

You stared at it then into her pleading eyes. She looked innocent enough, and her confusion earlier seemed genuine. Maybe you were wrong, but your emotions were running high so you weren't thinking clearly.

You knocked the cloth from her hand causing the ice to spill onto the floor. "Get away from me Riri I don't ever want to see your face again."

Riri couldn't help the anger taking over but as she opened her mouth. The door swung open again and Tyler came walking in this time. "Hey employees only you gotta go."

You had turned around putting your back to her now, so without any other choice Riri left the backroom keeping her head down as she exited the cafe.

Three Days Later

"Williams what the hell" a voice laced with anger and disbelief called out to her.

Riri came to a halt and looked over her shoulder to see Derek approaching her with his fist balled up. He towered over her but the height nor the scowl fazed her.

"Can I help you" she asked in a monotone adjusting her backpack.

"Yeah what is this?" Derek shoved a piece of a paper in her face. She took a step back to get a better look at it.

"Ohhh looks like a failing grade to me, that's going to cost your spot on the baseball team huh. I bet daddy won't like that" Riri said raising a single eyebrow at her.

"This isn't funny I gave you this essay to fix days ago, and I paid you."

"Oh yeah I resent the band back to you last night" she told him.

Derek frowned pulling his phone to check his cash app. He discovered she indeed sent the money back to him, and now he was boiling. "Riri what the hell?"

"What are too dumb to do your homework" Riri mocked him putting a emphasis on dumb.

It hit him like a ton of bricks what she was referencing. Derek took a deep breath running a hand through his dark hair to calm himself down. "If this is about the cafe girl I'm sorry alright please the professor agreed to give one redo. I'll pay double."

Riri thought over for a few minutes reveling in the desperation in his eyes, and his quaking knees. If she said no there would no one else for him to turn to. No other student was willing to risk their education by doing someone else's work. The offense could result in expulsion depending on how bad they deemed it. There were tutors who offered extra help going over the curriculum, but that was it. Derek needed her.

"You'll quadruple and apologize to y/n" Riri concluded.

His eyes grew into saucers at her new terms as he gaped at her trying to find the words to reason with her.

She held up a hand with stern look on her face. "No negotiating four bands, you apologize, and agree to leave y/n alone from now on. You don't go anywhere near her or the cafe again. The same goes for your little friends. Take it or leave it."

Derek let out a sigh of defeat "fine when do I apologize."

"Tonight meet me there at five don't be late or the deal is off." With that Riri turned back around and walked away.

Five Hours Later

It had been days since the incident with your old college bullies. In the end neither you or Diamond was fired after Tyler played the recording back on the security cameras. But he still had to write Diamond up and suspend her from work for a week. You were nervous about not having your best friend around. Fearing the return of Derek and his friends, or even worse Riri Williams.

You didn't know if she still came by in the morning because you finally switched back to night shift permanently. Not seeing a need to be on morning shift anymore with the connection with her dead. You meant it when you said you never wanted to her face again. Cyrus was on closing shift with you until Diamond got back, and you did appreciate his presence. He was a big guy with a heart of gold. If Derek did come back around to mess with you. Cyrus had permission to kick him out, and if he was outnumbered. The cops were to be called but under no circumstances was a punch to be thrown.

You were doodling on napkins when the door chime went off. Cyrus was in the back gathering supplies that needed to be stocked, so it was on you to take and fulfill orders. You stretched your body out with a groan, and went to the front counter.

"Welcome to Cozy Comfort" You announced with your fake happy voice. "How may I hel-" your mind went blank when you saw the customer.

Derek stood behind the counter with his hands stuffed in his pockets. A sheepish look on his face that was directed at the floor.

As if he had some sixth sense you were in danger Cyrus appeared from the back. His hardened eyes landed on Derek, and if looks could kill he would be dead. "I'm going to need you to keep it moving buddy."

"No please just hear me out" Derek pleaded.

You were taken back having never heard the boy beg before. He sounded desperate, and curiosity won out. "You got ten seconds go."

"I'm sorry about the name-calling, the fall, the drinks, and every single horrible thing me and my friends have ever done to you. Okay y/n I'm an asshole who deserves to be decked for the crap I put you and other kids through. Alright I'm sorry and it won't happen again." The words tumbled out of his mouth at such a fast pace you almost didn't catch all of it.

His pleading caught you off guard but the apology absolutely floored you. As a hand came to cover your mouth that dropped in shock. Never in your life did you think this moment would come not even in your dreams. "What game are you playing?" You asked with narrowed eyes.

He shook his head profusely, "no game alright I just felt bad okay. Here money for the drinks we ruined plus a tip." He held out a bulky yellow envelope.

You took it and peeked inside letting out a whistle at the multiple twenties. There had to be at least fifteen hundred or more in there. You didn't want his hand out, but Diamond could use the money with how many days of pay she was missing. "Is that all?"

You were still staring down into the envelope so you didn't see him glance over his shoulder for confirmation. Riri motioned for him to continue and he groaned on the inside. "Can I get an iced vanilla latte large please?" He slammed another hundred down on the counter.

You were tempted to tell him no but Cyrus moved to cash him out, and then to make his drink. "The prick apologized and gave you two weeks worth of pay. Let's serve him and get rid of him" He explained in a hushed whisper pumping the flavored syrup into the cup.

Once the drink was done Cyrus handed it off to Derek who took it with a nervous glint in his eye. He seemed tense and you were starting to worry this was another ruse. What could he be planning now? Before either of you could tell him to leave as he stood there for another minute or so.

Derek took a step back from the counter removing the lid from his drink. Cyrus thinking the worse moved to yank you out of the way, only to watch as Derek lifted the cup over his head, and dumped the contents out drenching himself in the sticky liquid. He let out a cry from the cold shock.

You let out a burst of laughter along with Cryus who shook his head in amusement.

"Get him a mop and he'll clean up his whole mess. Won't you Derek? Riri said finally bringing attention to her presence. Your eyes drifted to her's and you realized she was the responsible for this.

Derek grumbled intelligible words under his breath.

Riri cupped her ear and leaned in closer to him. "What's that Derek you got something smart to say. Use your outside voice or shut up before you're doing your own paper rich boy."

He shut his mouth at her command and took the mop from Cyrus who watched in glee as the preppy boy started cleaning.

"I guess I owe you an apology" You said after she came over to lean onto the front counter.

"I'll let it slide but you still owe me a lunch and about four hot mochas."

"I can get started on one hot mocha now." You moved to go prepare her drink, but she caught you by the hand in a tight grip. You paused turning back to her.

"I talked to the school counselor. she told me what happened with your scholarship." Riri admitted rubbing circles into the back of your hand with her thumb.

"Riri why" You whined attempting to cover your face with your free hand. Riri took a hold of that one as well bringing it down to the counter as well.

"Babygirl you don't gotta be ashamed okay. It happens you didn't flunk out you struggled with one class. And not one kid at the school had the brains to tutor you." Her voice was gentle to show you she wasn't judging you at all, pitying you.

You continued to look away becoming real interested in the cups on the counter.

"Y/N look at me" she ordered softly.

You listened feeling like you had no other choice, as your hands tingled with warmth in her grip. It spread throughout your entire body creating an air of vulnerability.

Her eyes were filled with adoration. "I like you a lot alright, and I feel like a jerk for not standing up for you the other day. I'm sorry for that and I can understand why you turned on me so fast. I made sure Derek and his friends won't be a problem for you anymore. So if you're interested the counselor is willing to help you get back into MIT. I'll tutor you in biological engineering and once your grade is back up. Your scholarship will kick back in."

"Riri" You murmured her name at the bomb she just dropped on you. No one had ever being willing to do so much for you with only knowing you in so little time. The walls it took so long to build started to crumble brick by brick before her.

She grinned releasing your hands to walk around the counter. "I know we don't know each other like that yet. But we're going to get there because there is no way I'm letting you slip through my fingers. And as far as the college thing you're a freaking genius y/n, and you earned your spot at that school. So I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help you get it back."

"I'm not letting you do my homework" You told her with a happy chuckle.

"I got you how about for every A you get that earns another date with me" she reasoned. Her arms wrapped around your waist pulling your body closer.

"Its a deal Riri thank you for this like all of it I'm serious. I do-" your voice was cut off as she pressed her lips to yours. You let out a muffled squeal in surprise.

Riri pulled away with her signature smirk and teasing eyes. "Sorry ma you talk too much sometimes. I've been wanting to do that for two months now."

"Yeah" you muttered.

Riri grinned bringing her lips back to yours again. This time you were ready kissing her back with desperation. Your hands found her face as you deepened the kiss. Derek had left the cafe sometime ago in embarrassment. Cyrus retreated to the back but not before snapping a quick picture to send to Diamond no doubt.

You and Riri stayed there getting lost within each other for a little longer.

Tag List: @f4t3lunts @alistair-mooncrest @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @justariellove @greek-freak101 @mbakuetshurisprincess @deliciousfestsalad @zayswriting @tchhairbandhere @6-noir @rhayanm @letitias-fav @ajawasblog @sarai-reya18 @shinsousliya @ilacknames @shurislover @inmyheadimobsessed @k3nn3dyxo @dtmanager

#mcu imagine #marvel imagine #riri williams #riri williams x reader #riri williams imagine

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dreaming-of-mossballs · 10 months ago

Text

Happy New Year, Captain. - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: The Captain of the Silvermane Guards is away for a military expedition. Although he isn’t here to celebrate the new year with the rest of Belobog, you’re determined to make sure he knows he’s loved. By both you and everyone around him.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 7k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: This is part of my florist!reader series, but can be read as a one-shot. Check the masterlist for more! If it’s broken (I swear to fuckijg god—) you can use the tag search function. Type in Mossball_Writing into the search bar.

Love you all and Happy New Year! (SHUT UP I KNOW ITS FEBRUARY I MADE THIS TWO MONTHS AGO)

MASTERLIST

Midday in Belobog was as crisp as ever.

You stood in the open-air plaza of the administrative district, leaning against the wall of the quaint little newspaper shop.

Vaska— your co-worker and friend at the Eversummer Florist’s— had her back turned to the blustery winter wind, which was only offset by the mocha-colored coat draped over her head and shoulders. Her teeth chattered like a broken phonograph, and her cheeks had been burned red by the cold. You stared at her, brow knitted worriedly.

“Hey uh… Vaska? Don’t you think it’s time we get going?”

Tilting your head at her and pulling your coat closer to your form, you gave her a sheepish smile. “We’ve been here for forty-five minutes,”

Her head shot up from where it was buried in the book grasped between her hands. The trademark green beret of the flower shop clung onto her head for dear life.

“What??” Vaska protested. “No, no, no. I’m a hair’s length from the good part! Just—,”

She resumed staring at the page again.

“—a few more pages. I swear. I can’t afford this book until next week. By the time I can get it, spoilers will be everywhere!”

You sniffled, wincing at the cold air that nipped at your nose. “If you want, I can always stuff potting soil in your ears. Free of charge, too,”

“Five more minutes,” she said, pursing her lips. “You won’t regret it,”

“Maybe I won’t, but you will,” you retorted. “Your lips are purple!”

Vaska raised a mitten in a visual effort to block your words. “I can survive a cold. What I cannot survive, however, is someone SPOILING the long-awaited sequel to Tale of the Winterlands,” Your friend tossed her head dramatically, causing strands of light brown hair to catch on her eyes and mouth. She spat them out indignantly.

You lowered your head, dragged your palms over your cheeks, and let your jaw go slack with a groan.

“Fine. You win. Just let me get my mail in the meantime, okay?”

Vaska whipped her head towards you with sparkles in her eyes. “(Y/N),” she gasped. “You’re a godsend!”

You promptly turned your heels and headed off in the direction of city hall, chuckling to yourself as you went. You remembered the way you used to bounce with excitement every time a new mining robot was delivered to your division and you got the honor of testing it out.

We all deserve to be a little giddy about our hobbies sometimes. She works as hard as I do, if not more.

You felt the corners of your lips rise into a smile as you strolled briskly next to the flower beds lining the sidewalk. Aside from a thin coating of frost, they looked bright and lively against the backdrop of the yellow brick wall.

Ah. First snow. I wonder if Gepard has had any luck resurrecting those, you pondered, bending over to peer at them. You lifted your head, only to jolt backward at the sight of familiar (and dashing) blue eyes in front of you.

“OHMYAEONS—“ you shrieked before clamping your hands over your mouth.

But a wave of disappointment soon swept over you. Those eyes you longed to see so badly were merely the centerpiece of a poster, advertising recruitment for the Silvermane Guards. Gepard’s eyes stared imposingly at the plaza behind you.

The artist did a really good job capturing his likeness. You sighed. It was almost uncanny how accurate the determination in his face was.

You rested a hand against the worn parchment, trailing it over a caption that read, ‘You are the pride of the Architects. Help defend their city! Join the Silvermane Guards Today!’, and ‘Great dental benefits!’

Of course, you knew that the reality was far less than glamorous.

Your friend, Gepard Landau, the Captain of the Silvermane Guards and a Belobogian noble, had been away on a mission for a month and a half fighting the Fragmentum. You’d had your fair share of run-ins with the monsters birthed from the residue of a stellaron. They dragged their feet and uttered ghastly moans as they wandered about the abandoned sectors of your hometown. You were immediately swept into the undercurrent of anxiety as images of threats he had to face began to bubble up within your brain.

To quell the simmering fear inside you, you slapped your face lightly with your mittened hands.

He’s perfectly fine! He’s the captain, for Qlipoth’s sake. He’s probably been on the field since he was able to walk, you exhaled heavily, your worries escaping into the air in the form of a small cloud of condensation.

Doesn’t change the fact that I miss him, though,

You weren’t allowed to contact Gepard. No one was, for fear of compromising military safety. Since the Fragmentum managed to attach itself to automatons, there was a possibility that they could receive unfiltered transmissions and determine the location of the troops. The thought in itself made your skin prickle.

Shaking yourself to clear the pangs of loss from your chest, you rounded the corner to City Hall, or the Administrative Office, or as others called it.

It had an air of business about it, maybe due to the constant stream of robed officials streaming out from its doors. They all barked orders at each other— filled with unnecessarily complicated words, you might add—, and pushed up their glasses in the same way. It bored you to death. But until you could get a permanent residence on the Surface, you’d have to keep collecting your mail from this labyrinth of grumpy office workers.

But today, you could hardly see the grilled glass doors past a crowd of people. Through the rapid chatter and the collision of bodies, you heard an official’s voice you recognized,

Manya.

You raised yourself on the balls of your feet to get a better look. Her hair, the color of artificially minty ice cream was frizzy and unkempt, and her thickly framed glasses were taped together at the end piece. Her words barely made it past the clamor of the crowd.

“If you want to register for a—“ She grunted in pain sharply. “Ugh! Esteemed citizen, please stop elbowing me. If you want to sign up for a telephone time, please form a single file line to the right of the lamp post. I repeat, the right,”

Any attempt to take a step forward was futile. You immediately got jostled by a heavyset woman from the right, causing you to collide with the metal bearings of someone’s briefcase. Ouch.

Against all odds, Manya’s piercing red eyes landed on you.

“Manya—?” You raised your voice, hoping to reach her above the crowd. “What’s—,”

She pushed through the throngs of people while her robes billowed with fury. Her hand grasped your forearm, harshly enough that you thought it might bruise, and proceeded to drag you into the building, which was heated with Geomarrow lamps and the sweat of panicking managers. It looked like a scene in a thriller opera, where the vengeful protagonist tears an office apart looking for information about his father’s killer.

Manya practically shoved you into the wall of cluster box units. “Get it—,” she hissed, “—and go,”

“Yeesh,” you exclaimed, fiddling with the key to your mailbox (and nearly dropping it in the meantime). “Can I at least ask what the commotion is all about?”

She turned around from where she was stalking off, a vein on her forehead suddenly becoming more pronounced.

“I do have matters to attend to, but I suppose it’s my duty to attend to the concerns of the citizens, no matter how trivial they may be,” she replied through gritted teeth. “For the new year, Qlipoth Fort allows citizens to contact family in the Guards using their telecommunications system,”

You widened your eyes as she continued.

“Although, they haven’t quite flushed out the system yet. The one for organizing time slots. It’s like herding warp trotters,”

“Um,” you paused. “Okay, how would you sign up for a time then?”

She grimaced. “Oh, not you too. Are you actually interested in one or just curious? Because I think I might burst a blood vessel if—,”

“I am interested, I swear!” You cut in. “I know I’m usually just curious, but I wouldn’t waste your time at a time as hectic as this,”

You’d think a City Hall official would actually enjoy answering questions, you muttered inwardly.

Manya sighed heavily. “Fine. Take a ticket from the dispenser outside and wait in line. When you’re called, they have a form you can fill out to make an appointment to speak with your family member,”

And as quick as she came, Manya spun on her heels and went back to managing the crowd at the door. You collected your mail and did as she ordered. The mass of people had since gathered into a more manageable line, although it was anything but single-file. Peering at the ticket, which was printed in very light ink, you were able to discern the number you were given. 122. You squinted your eyes in order to make out the fine print and gasped.

“Expected three hours until service?!?” You choked out.

Well, in that case, I can get back to Vaska, you shrugged. On your way out, you spotted a few complimentary hand warmers stationed at the front desk, along with the latest edition of the* Crystal* Daily at the front counter.

“Actually… you wouldn’t mind if I took some of these, right?” You inquired the bleary-eyed receptionist.

He blinked tiredly in response.

“Sweet. Have a good day,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Vaska was looking a little worse for wear when you got back. It had been less than ten minutes, but she had chosen a foldable sign as cover and was squatting behind it. Her green eyes flicked upwards as she heard the plodding of your boots towards her.

“How’s the book so far?” You said, glancing around at the passerby before joining her on the ground.

“(Y/N), if I’m being honest with you,” she paused. “I am so happy I could literally die right now,”

Vaska stared at you stone-faced before her expression became giddy. She pressed the book close to her chest, squealing with glee.

“Whoa there, don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” You said, amused.

“Not in the slightest,” she swooned. “Oh Artem, I missed him so much! His fiery passion hasn’t dimmed a bit,” she stated dramatically while fanning herself with her hand (Which she immediately regretted, as it was the middle of winter).

“Oh Vaska, you’re blushing so hard you could melt a glacier,” you teased.

“Two glaciers,” she corrected you matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened as a sudden shadow fell over the two of you. Fizz, the girl who manned the desk at the newspaper shop, was standing with her hands on her hips, blotting out the sun reflecting off the snow-covered buildings.

“While I do appreciate a fellow Tales fan,” she mused. “This is beginning to get a bit concerning. If you guys aren’t going to make a purchase, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. Sorry!”

Vaska’s soul seemed to leave her body that very moment.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “That’s fine! We’re sorry for overstaying our welcome. I know you have a business to run here,”

“No worries, you two! I’d give it to you, but a girl’s gotta put food on the table,” Fizz shrugged. “I’m pleased you’re interested though,”

Fizz’s cheerful demeanor did little to ease Vaska’s thousand-yard stare.

As soon as you got far enough from the newspaper stand, the onslaught of your co-worker’s crushing despair was unstoppable. She crumpled to the cobblestone-like a wad of packing paper.

You groaned as you bent over to grasp her hood, which you used as a sort of anchor point to drag her across the ground. She made a pitiful sound that resembled a mouse being stepped on.

You sighed. “Come on. Let’s go home,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

After tending to your wounded slug of a co-worker, you hopped downstairs to beat the frost off your jackets. Your eyes lit up as your phone rang in your apron with the signature ringtone you had assigned to Serval.

“Serval! What can I help a lovely lady such as yourself with today?” You greeted her while picking up the phone.

“Aw, you big sap!” Raucous laughter could be heard on the other side. The corners of your mouth rose into a smile.

“Molly and I just went on lunch break and I figured I’d give you a holler. Are you doing anything this Belobog Eve?”

Before you could say, “Solarflowers,” you had an answer.

“Yes, actually. I went to city hall today, and as it turns out, they’re doing this thing where you can call a loved one using the radios at Qlipoth Fort. All you have to do is sign up!”

“No way! They haven’t done that since things started getting bad in the Snow Plains,” Serval’s voice crackled. “I tried reaching them a few years back with a radio from the workshop, but Pela chewed me out, saying it was a ‘breach of military safety’,”

“Couldn’t imagine why,” you said with a snort.

“Hey, genius. I’m the main arms dealer for the Guards. I know what I’m doing,” she said, a smirk evident in her voice.

“Uh huh, uh huh,” you responded, touching your fingertips to your thumb absentmindedly. “Anyways, I signed up for a slot at ten o’clock, and I was thinking we could all go together to talk to Gepard,”

“Heck yeah! I’d really enjoy that!” Serval exclaimed. “By ‘we’, do you mean Lynx, Pela, and I?”

“You got it,” you said with a chuckle. You peered out at Qlipoth Fort through the windowpanes of the flower shop, the sunlight warming your face. “It’s alright if they can’t make it though. I know you’ve all got your plates full with all that military jargon,”

“Nonsense,” she tutted. “It’d be outrageous if they didn’t let us off for the New Year and… I’ll be honest with you, (Y/N). Sometimes us military folk are so caught up in our own business, we forget to connect with each other. It’s really nice to have you here to remind us we’re human too,”

You stifled a squeal of glee that was welling up in your throat. “Ah—“ you stuttered at the compliment. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Just glad I can help out, I guess,”

Serval snickered. “Don’t worry your little heart about it. I’ll make sure we all be there. Meet you outside Qlipoth Fort an hour before?”

“Sure. See you soon!” You chirped.

She chuckled. “Rock on, (Y/N)!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

The Belobog sky was especially mesmerizing that night, you thought.

It had a comforting simplicity you’d grown to appreciate ever since arriving on the surface. Every smattering of white against the royal blue backdrop seemed to hold your gaze as you wondered; just how old was that light reaching your eyes?

Some of the tapestries hung around the city attempted to emulate this feeling of smallness. They were woven with silk as if to imitate that same heaviness the night sky had.

Whilst you gazed at the stars, notes of soft jazz floated down from the balconies above the city where a group of street musicians were playing. You could feel the tremors of the bass beneath your feet thrumming slightly like a heartbeat, as the night ambiance blanketed you in a figurative sort of warmth.

Aeons, your neck was beginning to hurt.

“Hey— Jarilo-VI to (Y/N)—,” Serval’s voice reverberated loudly in your left ear.

A yelp of surprise sprang from your throat as you jolted away. Serval, Lynx, and Pela were standing directly in front of you, evidently enough they had been for some time.

“We were worried we’d be late because we were tuning up the instruments for a New Years show, but it seems like our worries were unwarranted,” Serval laughed, shrill and high. The lamplight glinted off of her multitude of metal accessories.

“Ack! You guys—,” you blurted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

“You seemed very intent on keeping your eyes glued to the sky,” Pela pushed her glasses up thoughtfully, trying to hide her labored breath. She looked disheveled, as if she had run here.

Lynx sided closer to you with wide eyes. “Perhaps… you observed an anomaly?”

You chuckled. “No, nothing of the sort. I was just thinking that the star I was looking at was really bright,”

She hummed in response— the ears on her adorable fluffy hat bouncing side to side— and reached for your forearm, raising it to point at the same patch of sky you were looking at before.

“Ah, that star?” Lynx closed one eye to better align her field of view with your own. “That’s Altair. The one underneath the edge of the Tundra Star System,”

“Altair? That’s a pretty unusual name,”

“Yep. I heard it came from somewhere far away, from a small planet called Earth. They believed this particular star was waiting to reunite with another,”

You paused in thought for a moment, the silence causing the other two to tilt their heads.

What a cute little story.

Maybe these kinds of stories were easier to think up when you’d lived under the stars all your life. But even before the Underworld had closed, all you had of the sky were distant, blurry memories. These ideas struck an unfamiliar chord within you.

“Does it ever meet the other star?”

“I’m not certain,” Lynx mused. “The only other star we know of that fits the legend died a long, long time ago unfortunately,”

“Aw,” you pouted. “That’s a shame,”

Pela cleared her throat. “I hate to ruin an intellectual conversation such as this, but it’s in our best interest to get going. The line is already growing at the top of Qlipoth Fort,”

“You can see that??” You squinted. “Crud. I got you guys some gifts but those will have to wait,”

Pela nodded. “Yes, let’s hurry while we—,”

Your face split into a wide grin. “Race ya!”

You dug the soles of your shoes in and ran straight for the stairs to Qlipoth Fort. The others followed suit, a string of indignant shouts and laughter echoing into the night air.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

If being in the mines had been stifling, that was nothing compared to the crowds outside the Fort. Red-faced officials cupped their hands and yelled in an attempt to be heard over the clamor of the mob. You spotted Manya leaning against a wall, any light she once had in her eyes totally gone.

“—a line! Get into three lines! Please for the love of the Preservation—,” someone shouted.

Pela received a particularly hard bump to the shoulder, sending her hurtling directly into your rib cage with a squeak. Through the midst of the chaos, you caught a glimpse of Serval’s arm, adorned with wristbands, flailing a ways away. She pried the people in front of her apart with vigor; a grunt that sounded like a creaking glacier erupted from her mouth to the shock of the strangers closest to her.

“Hold tight you two!” She ordered. “I’m trained to deal with this— you’ve seen Luka, right?”

“And just how is that supposed to be relevant??” You barked back before a stray elbow caught you in the face. You let out a pained grunt and held your nose.

Serval’s face peeked over the crowd as she wove closer to you. “His boxing stance— do that. Arms in front of your face, legs a shoulder-width apart. It’s saved a few of my concert-goers from gettin’ crushed,”

You did as she instructed; the next time someone jostled you and Pela, you felt far less shaken up. Swiveling your head, you realized something was off.

“Hey, has anyone seen Lynx?”

You scanned the crowd for her signature blue hat but to no avail.

“Lynx? Lynx???” Pela called frantically. Out of the blue, you spotted a small figure clad in blue and purple clinging to one of the pillars supporting the overhanging roof of the fort. Lynx looked unbothered, a red rope anchored around the pillar and her feet planted firmly into the side in a classic climber’s stance.

Well, that’s one way to get around it, you shook your head vigorously. The hair on your neck stood up as the speakers belonging to the fort’s PA system crackled to life.

“Attention, Belobog citizens,” a male voice announced. “We’re aware that it has been a few years since the Fort has been able to do this, but please refrain from physically assaulting each other… And to the climber on the right-hand side of the building, that was clever, but this is not the Snow Plains,”

A good-humored chuckle rippled through the crowd. Finally, officials were able to sort attendees into lines depending on what time their call was. You were able to take a long, relaxing breath and bask in the warmth of the heaters surrounding the building, your chest rising and falling as you rested the back of your head against the wall. Serval hummed contentedly beside you as Pela combed through her book.

Blinking your eyes open, your hands darted for your leather messenger bag.

“Oh! About those gifts I got you guys… here!” You tossed the items one by one to your companions. “Glasses straps for Pela… a multi-tool for Serval… and fish pot warmers for Lynx!”

Serval’s eyes sparkled as she fiddled with out the multi-tool, and then proceeded to fill with tears of laughter as you wrapped a scarf around Lynx’s head so that only her eyes were showing, and she waved her quilted fish hands around like some sort of pot warmer ninja. The deadpan expression on her face made the whole ordeal even funnier.

“You know…” you spoke up. “We oughta meet up for holidays more often,”

“Too right!” Serval nodded with a bright smile. You honestly thought you could wait there forever with them, laughing and talking like this.

However, you would find that possibility was closer than it seemed.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Hey uh— Pela, do you have a watch?” You asked after some time had passed.

“Yes, why?” She replied.

“I just think it’s been a little longer than an hour,” you said offhandedly, flicking your gaze to the side.

Maybe you were just impatient. From your fast-paced life in the mines, of course. (Not because your heart was swelling with more anticipation than it could handle.)

“Erm…” she peered closely at her gilded watch. “No, you’re right, (Y/N). It’s been an hour and 45 minutes,”

You let out a withering sigh as Lynx piped up.

“Maybe there’s a holdup? There’s a lot of people, after all. If one person goes a minute over, the entire schedule gets pushed back a minute,”

“Yeah… that sounds about right, I guess,” you shrugged. Waiting a little more wouldn’t hurt, you supposed.

That is until another 45 minutes passed with you four waiting in the cold.

“Aeons, I am SO. HUNGRY.” Serval pounded her fist lightly on the wall. “What in the Snow Plains is going on in there??”

“Didn’t you get something to eat before you came here?” Pela quipped.

“Yes, but waiting makes me pretty damn hungry,” she groaned. Her stomach growled in agreement.

Lynx looked up at her sister from where she was sitting by a fire hastily scraped together. She outstretched her arm, a tin of sardines in the palm of her hand.

“Thanks, Lynxy,” Serval said wistfully. Her eyes shot open as the large mahogany door to the fort creaked open. An aide accompanied by two guards stepped out into the turmoil.

“Attention, Citizens of Belobog,” she droned. “I know you may be confused as to why this is taking so long. Well… we’ve received reports that the line connecting our radios to the Silvermane camp has been taken out by the high winds. We’re not sure if it will be able to be repaired tonight, but, you are welcome to stay if you are able,”

And with that announcement, the aide whisked inside, her robes trailing behind her as the crowd began to clamor in anger.

“You have got to be kidding,” Serval hissed. Pela nodded, her eye twitching with irritation. “If— if they had trusted me with the handling of the tech division—,”

You stopped listening as your hands fell to your sides in exasperation. But out of the corner of your eye, through the blurry silhouettes of people fettering away for the night— you caught a small but unmistakable glimpse of sadness on Lynx’s face.

Her face was downturned, her nose, scrunched up. You remember making that face in Natasha’s clinic as you did your best not to break down in front of her.

Placing a hand on Serval’s shoulder as waves of anger rolled off her, you spoke up.

“We’re staying,”

“Stay—? I can’t believe they just blew everyone off like that!” Serval snorted, followed by a sigh. “Why don’t we go to the workshop and break out one of my old radios?”

Pela shook her head frantically, curtains of her indigo hair flying everywhere. “We should definitely not do that. The logistics that that would succeed are very, very, low. Also—,”

“Not everyone is leaving,” you commented. You swiveled your head around. At least fifty of the original 120+ people remained. (Belobogians couldn’t be deterred that easily, you supposed.)

You glanced down at Lynx out of the corner of your eye. “If there’s even the off chance that they can get them working again, I want to try. I’ll even run to the florists to make us some sandwiches!”

Serval paused, seeming to think this was adequate.

“Hmph… You know I can’t pass up a good sandwich,” she put her hands on her hips with a smile. “And, you’re right. Maybe we’ll have a better chance of getting in touch with him if we stay,”

“That’s right,” You smiled. “Now, I’ll go take the trolley real quick. Call me if they fix them!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

A few of the amenities you brought back included: a large wool blanket, a picnic basket with sandwiches and cookies, and the hand warmers you had grabbed earlier, which were especially for when the queue moved away from the heaters.

Serval was right. Waiting did make you hungry. You licked your lips contentedly after fishing a chilled veggie salad wrap. With your belly full and your body finally warm for the first time that night, you nearly drifted off to sleep until the doors flung open once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ve gotten permission to fire communications up again. Thank you for being patient,” the same lady from earlier announced. “Please come this way and form a single-file line,”

Your head whipped around in confusion from the sudden turn of events.

“What happened? Just how long was I out?” You inquired Lynx.

“Approximately seven minutes,” she stated. “It’s around 23:50 right now,” The golden-haired girl turned away from you and darted into the building, along with Serval.

Things are finally coming along, you smiled to yourself.

In contrast to the curt PSA earlier, the inside of the Fort was well-rounded with good customer service. It ran like a freshly oiled automaton, with workers directing attendees to different booths, each with a trained operator. The room was filled with chatter echoing off the tiled floor and the sounds of dial tones coming from the radios, which were large blocks of metal with a handheld receiver attached by a wire.

The operator at your booth handed you the radio first, much to your surprise. The other line picked up with a slight buzz of static. Your heart began to race.

“Who would you like to speak to?” The voice on the other end crackled.

“Ah— Gepard Landau, please. Is he available?” You said, with a little less confidence than you’d have liked.

“The Captain? I’m sorry, but I don’t think we have the security clearance for that—,”

Serval vaulted across the table in the booth and grabbed the phone.

“Tory? Tory is that you?? We need to speak to Gepard,”

Pause.

“Like, right this instant. Could you go get him? Thanks. No— if anyone asks tell them I told you to do it. Now go get him!”

She smiled self-satisfactorily, sat down, and tossed the receiver to you while kicking her legs up. You swore you saw a bead of sweat roll down the operator’s face as you fumbled with the device— it was only saved by your pinkie miraculously hooking on the wire.

You tilted your body closer to Lynx and Pela as you listened to the sounds of idle chatter on the other end.

“[—for me?]”

You knew that voice. Your heart leaped as you held the receiver closer to your face.

“[Ahem— Hello?]”

“Why— yes. Um— h-hello!” You blurted out, caught off guard. You craned your head away from the radio with a start towards the jittery-looking operator. “Is there any way to turn this thing up?” You hissed.

“Yes, but please take care not to be too loud,” He rotated a dial at the top of the radio as your group sided closer together.

“[(Y/N)? Is that you?]” You caught a note of surprise in Gepard’s voice, which also had an edge of roughness to it as if he had been shouting orders earlier that day.

“Yep. Not just me though. We got Serval, Pela, and Lynx here too!” You smiled, making eye contact with the others. “Say ‘hi’ everyone!”

A chorus of greetings rang out, the words “big brother” and “Captain Gepard” sneaking into the mix.

“Geppie! So happy to hear from you,” Serval’s blue eyes sparkled as she chimed in. “How’s it holding up out there?”

“Ah, hello, Serval. I’m glad to see you’re doing well,”

Gepard wasted no time getting her up to date, just like a military briefing. You stood by, perplexed.

“We’re working hard to clear up the remaining Fragmentum. The weather has been on the unpredictable side, and it’s caused some of the tech to freeze over, but it’s nothing the Guards can’t handle. At the rate we’re going, we might finish early,”

You let out a small cheer.

He continued. “I hope you and Pela aren’t too swamped before the new year,”

“Hardly,” said Pela, who was pushing up her glasses. “Lady Bronya has done a wonderful job of managing the workload in the intelligence division,”

“That’s no small relief. How about you, Lynx? You’re not doing anything risky in the Snow Plains, are you?”

The golden-haired girl’s shoulders dropped petulantly. “Yes, brother. Our team is doing quite adequately, and it will continue that way as long as I am leading it. Don’t worry about me,”

Her cheeks began to puff up. You smiled. No one had ever worried about you like that before. (Although now that you had Vaska, all the worrying was done for you.)

Lynx handed the phone to Pela first, who cycled through her greetings in a somewhat robotic manner. Next came Serval, whom the operator had to tell to quiet down more than four times. It seemed that their banter never ceased even when they hadn’t seen each other for a whole month. Maybe she was taking this time to catch up, you thought to yourself. She nearly shouted goodbye at him by the time Pela had the sense to drag her away from the table.

You reached for the handheld radio next, confused at where to place your fingers because it was nothing like a traditional phone—

“[Ahem. Ahem— is this thing working? Captain, can you hear me?],” A pause. “[It’s Bronya,]”

Pela’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. You held the phone in your outstretched hand awkwardly as you eyes the others to see if they’d tell you what to do.

“[Lady Bronya, it’s a pleasure. I hope all is well in Belobog?]” Gepard inquired.

Bronya held steadfast conviction in her voice that struck you to your core.

“[As well is it could be, Captain, much due to your unyielding diligence in the Snow Plains,]”

You heard him exhale through his nose slightly. “[I’m not sure I deserve a compliment so grand, but I appreciate it nonetheless, Lady Bronya,]”

You stood rooted to the ground as you heard them hurl very formal-sounding compliments back and forth like snowballs. It was like a soap opera.

“[Ah, and don’t let me forget. (Y/N), thank you for your routine delivery of flowers to Qlipoth Fort. It really does boost morale,]” Bronya said.

Your heart swelled with pride. “It’s no matter at all, Lady Bronya,”

Something compelled you to bow to no one in particular. When you raised your head, more than one person had a raised eyebrow at your spectacle. Serval picked up on your sheepishness and leaned in close, her breath tickling your ear.

“I may have clued her in a bit,” she whispered to you. You covered your mouth with a devious smile.

“[Now, I’ll have to let you go now. There are a few last-minute orders I have to take care of. I wish you all a Happy New Year,]”

“You too, Lady Bronya!” Everyone cheered.

What an honor it was for the Supreme Guardian to grace you with her voice— you swooned. Oh dear. Is this how all Surface-dwellers felt?

It must be contagious, you thought as you wiped your forehead nervously.

“A-anyways, Lynx, how about you take the phone now?”

“Me—? Oh,” she seemed startled.

She picked it up gingerly. “Hi, big brother,”

Something about the way her voice sounded made you take a small step away from the table.

“[You sound healthy, Lynx,]” the Captain said with a softness to his voice you weren’t familiar with. “[Is everything all right there? How is father?]”

Lynx seemed to cradle the radio in the crook of her neck like a penguin would its chick.

“Yes, everything is fine, I— uhh— sorry,”

She paused for a moment, seeming to have lost the words she wanted to say. His voice filled the silence she left.

“[I hope you all know I do miss you, and I’m happy you decided to call,]”

Lynx’s eyes were locked on the table and you could see her feelings churning inside of her. You reached towards the radio slowly, turning down the dial that controlled the volume, and motioned to the others to take a few steps away.

Whatever Lynx wanted to say was her business and her business alone. You could wait a bit.

For a few minutes, she whispered into the phone, her eyes still downcast. When she called you all back over, her cheeks were tinted light pink and it was almost as if a large weight had been taken off of her shoulders.

The orange-haired operator interrupted your moment of bliss. “That was a nice gesture… but please don’t touch the radios,” he pleaded with you.

Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. Oops.

You grinned sheepishly, turning back to the radio as the others gathered around you once more.

“So… Gepard,”

The sound of clanking metal reached your ear as you looked off to the side. You could almost imagine him leaning in with that trademark intent expression on his face.

“I’m happy we were able to reach you today,” you spoke, a smile creeping into your voice.

“We really, really miss you. It’s because of you that we’re able to gather here today safe and sound,”

How badly you wished you could see him right now.

“We wanted to wish you a happy new year, so—,”

You cut off for a moment to build up anticipation. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you dipped your head down with laser focus and mouthed a countdown to them.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Happy New Year—,”

“Gepard!”

“Geppie!”

“Captain!”

“Elder brother!”

The other families at the other booths looked at you quizzically as a wave of silence swept over the high-ceilinged room.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Anyways, we’re almost out of time! Keep fighting hard out there, okay?”

“[Thank you. May the new year bring us prosperity,]” he said with steadfast resolve.

You smiled a soft smile, one filled with so much longing that you could no longer put into words.

“It will, I’m sure of it,”

“[Wait, (Y/N), listen closely. They’re firing the cannons,]”

They’re what?

Your next breath never made it past your throat. The faraway boom of three cannons firing reached your ears, followed by the raucous cheers of soldiers.

“[Happy New Year,]”

And with that, the dial on the side of the radio rang, signaling that your time was up.

You glanced at the group around you in the silence that followed. Lynx’s eyelashes were slightly wet.

“Well, I guess we should get going then,” you sighed.

“We didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Seval pouted, crossing her arms. “We’ll have to make up for it later when he comes back,”

Lynx and Pela nodded, gathering their belongings and pushing open the door to the chilly night air of Belobog.

You trailed behind the others as you exited the building, glancing up at the sky one last time. It wasn’t often you were out long enough for the lights of the city to finally dim and give you a splendid view of the nighttime theatre.

The others turned around, hearing you gasp out loud. A streak of light filled your vision, passing right next to the bright star you were looking at earlier. Than another. And another.

“Guys— look, it’s a star shower!” You pointed excitedly at the sky and spun around quickly; which in turn, caused your messenger bag to hit Pela in the face.

“Now that’s a stellar lookin’ sky if I’ve ever seen one,” Serval raised her hand above her eyes and laughed as you apologized profusely to Pela.

Now, you wondered, was Gepard seeing this too? It was the same sky, after all.

Lynx bounded up to you excitedly and with a slight smile, asked,

“Do you have a wish?”

A wish?

“I think…” you rested a hand on your chin thoughtfully.

“My wish? I want all of us to be safe and happy… For many, many years to come,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Bonus scene:

As you all went your separate ways, you noticed the light at the newspaper stand was still on.

You moseyed your way over there and rapped on the shutters with a fist.

“Hello? Is anyone still there?”

A shuffle and a groan was heard. Fizz, the bookkeeper, rose from behind a pile of boxes rubbing her eyes roughly.

“Oh! Aeons—,” you couldn’t stop yourself from exclaiming. “Are you okay??”

“Urgh…” Fizz stumbled over to the counter and checked her watch. “I must have fallen asleep while reading. I should have closed up four hours ago!” She groaned again. “What can I help you with?”

You stammered for a second. “I’m not sure if this is the appropriate time to ask, but do you have any of the sequel to Tale of the Winterlands?”

“Ah, I’m afraid we don’t. I can check when the next shipment is coming in though,” she replied helpfully. Fizz pushed aside a sheaf of papers. “Oh?”

You peered over the counter inquisitively.

“It looks like we do have one,” she said, matter-of-factly, turning back to you. “You want it?”

“Yes, please!” You bounced on your heels.

“That’ll be 2,500 credits. Would you like a bag?” She bent over to grab a notepad for your receipt.

You nodded. Fizz handed the book to you, taking less than a minute to prepare a card and tissue paper. She obviously had a lot of experience under her belt.

She handed the brown paper bag to you and you took off towards the hills.

“Thanks!” You shouted back at her. “Happy New Year!”

“You too,” Fizz said as she watched you sprint like a soldier coming home.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Quiet as a mouse, you discarded your boots after entering the florist’s and started towards the back, not bothering to turn the lights on. Everyone was likely already asleep— the shop was all closed up for the night and the plants were bathed in comforting blue moonlight.

You climbed the small spiral staircase to the second floor where everyone slept, wincing as the floorboards creaked. You could spy a small sliver of light emanating from the bedroom you and Vaska shared.

Tapping the door lightly with your fingertips, you opened it. Vaska was in the midst of getting up to answer the door; she had a small candle in her hands and her favorite book lay on the hardwood floor. You didn’t even have to look at the cover to recognize the trademark dog-eared pages and dirt stains.

“(Y/N)!” She whispered. “Where on Jarilo-VI were you??”

“I’ll tell you in the morning, as I’ve had quite the eventful night,” you chuckled. “On the other hand, I got you something!”

You hoisted out the brown paper bag decorated with simple printed patterns to her. She took it from you and peeked inside.

A glass jar of popping candy and a book lay at the bottom of the bag. You watched in real time as she forgot how to breathe.

Vaska pulled the book out with one hand. Glanced at you. Glanced at the book again. She made a sound resembling a whistling kettle and flung herself at you with the force of a soldier, wrapping her arms around you.

“Shh—! Vaska, it’s like, one in the morning. If the boss hears you, you’ll be DEAD,”

You shot a warning glance towards the door. Thankfully, no sound was heart at the end of the hallway, where Meg’s quarters were.

She sniffled, her grip as tight as iron. “I’ll die happy then,”

You sighed. You patted the back of her head in the crook of your arm. How lucky you were to have a friend like her.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we?”

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

#gepard x reader #gepard x reader fluff #gepard fic #gepard fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr x reader fluff #hsr fic #hsr fanfic #bfabc #gepard x florist!reader #hsr x florist!reader #fanfic #Text #not genshin #gepard #gepard hsr #gepard honkai #gepard honkai star rail #Mossball_Writing

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ryverbind · 10 months ago

Text

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Consonance of a Tragic Villain [20]

I swallow down the panic that sears the inside of my body, flames edging closer to the corner that once protected me-- or so I thought.

But I'm none the wiser. Just when I thought I was free of today's bullshit, more slapped itself onto my figurative plate. But I can handle this, definitely. I'm a strong, independent woman and my borderline insane, naive cousin is not going to ruin everything for me.

The only person allowed to tear me down is myself.

I take a breath-- a deep, shuddering breath as an ache builds in my chest for the umpteenth time today. I'm going to be okay. And besides, me and the man before me are close enough. He'll do what I say, no questions asked. Especially if I stress how important this is to me.

I nudge the door of my apartment shut, finally completely separating myself and my cousin from The Faces. I'm alone to speak my mind in the comfort of a familiar presence without worrying about the group of people who don't know that I'm hiding huge, relationship-altering secrets from them.

Seeing my cousin again after a couple years is refreshing. It's a good distraction from all the perturbance that ails me on this hellish day.

He looks so familiar and so different all at the same time. After ditching his parents just last year, it seems my dear cousin has been working on fixing himself up. He's wearing a navy blue NYU sweater, white collar peeking out of the top. Dark khaki pants to match the whole prospective college jock thing he has going on. His dark eyes seem a bit brighter, the mocha color lightened to a sunkissed gold that reflects the excitement in his wide smile. His once horribly dyed, mustard-colored hair is now a dirty blonde that suits him terrifically. I'm happy to see that he's taking care of himself. Working and going to a top-notch college has to be hard on him, but it looks like he's prevailing. I'm incredibly proud of him.

And dammit, he's grown since I last saw him too. Maybe Larry's height, actually. I have to tilt my head back to look up at him.

"Am I getting a hug after three years or fuckin' what?" He squeaks, eye twitching lightly to exemplify his impatience.

I narrow my eyes at him. Is he for real? "First, you address me as bitch. Then you vaguely threaten me. Don't I get a 'hi' after two years?" I counteract his reasoning with some of my own.

He pinches his lips together and puts his hands on his hips, switching his weight to his left foot. "C'mon. Every time I greet you, it's with 'bitch."

I chew on the inside of my cheek, gaze trailing over him again. He's not wrong. Even on phone calls, the first word out of his mouth is 'bitch.' "Fair enough," I settle on. "You get a hug after I tell you this, okay?" I tilt my head, showing that I mean business. That I'm serious. Because if he doesn't get this, everything I've built up could fall apart before I'm ready for it to.

His brows furrow in wariness and concern. "Okay..." he murmurs, voice trailing off as he waits for me to continue.

"You absolutely, under any circumstances, must not call me by my name. I am Vi to you from here on out. Once you enter this apartment, you call me nothing else but Vi." Monotonous, serious, and straight to the point is exactly how I portray these words. I watch as my cousin nods subtly the entire time I speak, his expression adopting a look that shows his sincerity as he listens.

"Got it. No questions about the sudden name change. You're Vi," he gives me a strong nod before shutting his eyes and grinning brightly.

"Good," I sigh. I shake my head to rid myself of the agonizing fear that has gripped me like a boa constrictor for a large part of the day. "Thanks, Trav. It really means the world."

Travis snorts, standing to an upright position. "Don't mention it. You've done a lot for me, bending to your will is the least I could do."

With a simple shrug in my direction, I take that as my cue to twist the doorknob, opening it so that no one is separated any longer.

But then Travis does his Travis thing and comes barreling toward me, his arms latching around my waist and smacking the both of us into the door. The hunk of wood flies open with our weight, slamming into the wall and damn, this time I don't think I'll get away with no damage.

I hiss, giving in and just allowing Travis to wrap me up in one of his big, aggressive bear hugs that he always greets me with without fail. I pat his back with a little smile as he flings me around like a doll, the bastard.

My eyes glance over to The Faces behind Travis. They are all wide eyed and silent. Every single one of them.

Heat envelops me. Travis lived in Nockfell for a while too. I'm sure they all know each other. Ash, at least, knows that Travis and I are related. I've told her about him many times. Maybe she just... didn't know I was referring to the Travis Phelps who used to live in Nockfell.

Travis finally sets me on my feet, a big, infectious grin on his face as he instinctively walks over to my kitchen. I hope he doesn't say anything bad... he clearly has not seen the rest of the people populating my small household yet.

"So what's with the mask? You into some kinky business?" Travis asks as I follow him into the kitchen, keen on watching where he travels to.

I sigh. "Trav, can we not? Come on, give me your bags." It's a wonder how he managed to keep hold of them while body slamming me through the door.

"What?" He scoffs, a little grin taking over his face. "I haven't seen you in years because you're a fucking recluse. I need to catch up on your life and if part of your life is being some kind of BDSM mistress, then I'd like to know."

I swallow thickly. I can't believe my friends have to watch this. I turn to look at Travis who's watching me over his shoulder. "Yea?" I ask humorlessly. "And what about you? It's been years and you still always have some kind of wound." It's true. His bottom lip is busted. "What the hell happened to you?"

He shrugs, narrowing his eyes at me in a playful way. "I've been boxing the last couple months. Really helps with the anger issues."

My lips part and I stare at him like he's stupid. It's like he's addicted to pain at this point. "Well," I decide to say. "I'll be cheering for you when you join WWE I guess."

"You better," Travis chirps, dropping to his haunches and grazing through my refrigerator like he owns the place. Which, he's family. He knows he's welcome to do or take whatever. Dad and I have never minded, especially given his upbringing. "You can root for me on the sidelines. I'll just be fucking hot buff guys behind the scenes. It's a win-win."

A song suddenly comes on, one by Bullet For My Valentine. It's a heavy hitter and Travis immediately flinches at the instrumentals. I guess someone managed to figure out how to turn on the speakers my dad spent a fortune on.

"Still listening to your nasty metal music, I see," he murmurs, grabbing a container of sliced strawberries. He pulls the top off and picks up a fruit, throwing it into his mouth before his eyes meet mine. "You still making it?"

I raise an eyebrow. "No," I tell him. "Ever since dad and I moved out here, I haven't had the space or the time to do so." And not being able to play my drums hurts, even the mention of it is painful.

I guess Travis can see the change in what little of my expression he can see with the mask, that or he already knows well enough. He frowns a little, wincing. "Sorry," he says gently. "I know you liked making music. Sucks that you can't now."

I offer him a little smile. Travis had his asshole phase years ago, but he's been so kind ever since he grew up. "Thanks," I respond, chewing on my bottom lip. "It's fine. I'll figure something out."

Travis winks at me then pushes himself into a standing position. He walks out of the kitchen and past me, heading toward The Faces who are sitting in my living room. Right in front of me.

"So do you still have that hot neighbor?" My cousin asks, stopping in front of me. He pulls a strawberry out of the container and holds it up to my face, raising his eyebrows.

"Why don't you go knock on his door and find out?" I murmur, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch my... dear cousin. He always hits me with a million and one questions but he must be majorly jet-lagged to still miss the four extra heads in the room.

"Mmm, maybe later," he murmurs, shoving a strawberry into my partially opened mouth. My brows furrow in shock, but I close my lips over the fruit anyway. "Remember my high school crush though? He's, like, super famous now."

I chew on the strawberry, nearly drowning over the sweet juice that coats my tongue. I push through the ocean in my mouth and answer him though, interested by this news. "Yea," I manage, swallowing a bit of the strawberry. "The one you bullied like the cunt you are? He's famous? Good for him."

Travis scoffs and rolls his eyes dramatically. "Take the 'c' word back, hoe." He sends me a mean glare then shuts his eyes. "But yes, he does deserve it. You know," one of his dark eyes pops open, narrowed in my direction. "I made out with him."

My stomach tightens in excitement. Travis told me he'd kissed some guy years ago and he was really happy about it, but I didn't know it was the crush.

"Really?" I push out, finally finishing off the fruit he'd forced upon me. "When was this?"

"Oh," Trav waves me off. "A while back. In high school. It's actually all thanks to you-- you told me if I didn't shape up, apologize to him, and confess that I would be alone forever and you would banish me from the family. What the hell else was I supposed to do? Of course I did what you said. It was so worth it." He gives me a roguish, exhilarated grin that says the night he shared with his crush will go down in his mental history book and stay there forever. "I owe you a cake, lovely," he continues

I smile, my cheeks warming at the prospect. I'm happy Travis had his time with his crush.

"We haven't talked in God knows how long though," Travis sighs, looking off behind me like he's reminiscing. "Which it's better that way." He chews the inside of his cheek contemplatively, thick brows bunching together softly. "I still think about Bluey every once in a while, though..."

Now it's my turn to narrow my eyes at him as Bluey claws its way through my mind. "I'm sorry," I choke out, "Bluey, like the dog show, or Bluey as in blue, like a Smurf?"

Travis turns his head to me quickly and I know I hit the mark. His eyes are wide as he says, "Perfect analogy. Blue as in a Smurf." A little impressed smile works its way onto his lips. "He may as well have been a Smurf actually. Short as hell, blue hair."

This time, my stomach tightens in a different way as my brain slaps me in the face. Trying to open my damn eyes because... I only know a select few people with blue hair. I only know one famous person who has blue hair.

My eyes snap over to Sal. And, my God, he looks like he's about to explode. His neck is painted a deep scarlet and he's nervously playing with his fingers. Azure eyes saucer-sized.

I sit on that one. I sit and really contemplate it while Travis goes on and on about, fuck, about how he tasted. And how his skin felt. And his voice. He goes on like the man he's talking about isn't in the room-- because he doesn't know he's in the room. He keeps talking like he doesn't know I nearly fucked the guy who gave him his first make out sesh.

"I'm going to throw up," I murmur to myself, but Travis catches the words and frowns at me.

"Girl, I have told you worse. You've heard my NSFW stories and this makes you fold? Very ableist of you." Travis tuts at me, disappointed after probably saying something about Sal that I don't know about, especially because the ableism accusation came out of nowhere.

"No," my voice quivers as I force the words out. I've committed the ultimate betrayal. I feel sick. It doesn't matter if I never knew that Sal and Travis had a moment, I nearly had sex with him. This is.... this is bad. Really bad.

"Are you okay?" Travis asks, suddenly concerned. He walks over, rubs my arm comfortingly but it doesn't make me feel any better.

I don't have to answer him because, thankfully, Larry has broken the barrier between us all and said what I had been thinking.

"Sal!?" He coughs out, the deep baritone of his voice making Travis flinch. "What the fuck! You swapped spit with the enemy!?"

I watch Travis spin on his heels and then he jumps like a startled cat would. I can practically see all of his body hairs stand on end.

Travis turns back to me, his face the epitome of shock and betrayal. "You bitch!" He squeaks out, glancing back at Sally. "You betrayer!"

How come I never made the connection before? I had this bullshit coming. This sketchy plan was bound to blow up in my face at some point. I knew Sal was a bad idea.

"I didn't know!" I splutter out, eyes flitting back and forth between my cousin and the bluenette. Sal looks alert— eyes wide and never blinking. He's struck silent, that sad excuse of an asshole.

"You weren't supposed to invite my first kiss over," Travis yells, voice cracking while gesturing his hand to Sally behind him. "I only told you about it— how did you find him?"

My stomach drops out of my ass. Everyone's silent as confirmation of what we all feared rings throughout my living room. The only person who has any kind of reaction is Sal who slaps his hands onto his prosthetic, leaning his head onto the back of the sofa.

It's quiet for a little while longer, bile searing the back of my throat. Travis still has wide eyes, his gaze directed at Sal and an embarrassed blush flushing his cheeks.

I watch as Ash blinks, her expression beginning to morph into something both predatory and unreadable. This entire day got so much worse, right when I thought it was over too.

Have I ever said that Todd is quite literally the best at reading rooms, and the best at being the best? I owe him a lot of credit because he saves mine and everyone else's asses, even if only for a moment, by saying, "Dark Autumn Complex released a new song a couple hours ago."

My head tilts, my focus suddenly zeroed in on my friend who watches us blankly, no emotion or real reaction to the silent standoff in my living room.

But no one else cares. Larry, Ash, and Sal are having a staring contest with Travis who look beyond overwhelmed.

Todd sighs. "Travis and Sal are old news. It's not something any of you should be surprised about. Plus they clearly have been over for ages. Take the information and cry about it in bed tonight if it ails you so." I stand corrected when Travis drops that load of reality on us. If anything, he seems a little agitated. How can he be so... nonchalant with the prospect of Travis and Sal floating around us like a melody? I'm, personally, petrified to the core.

Travis shrugs nervously beside me. "He's not wrong," he murmurs bashfully, sniffing to hide his awkwardness. "I made out with him once and that was it. Gay awakening?"

Larry snorts, his eyes squeezed shut and tears building at the corners. I can't quite tell if he's laughing or wailing.

I crack a little smile. Larry's comedic relief, whether his tears are positive or negative, and Todd's direct approach make the situation not as serious as it originally seemed. Sal is still sitting pin straight on my couch like a scarecrow hung up in a corn field. He couldn't be more displaced with this turn of events. I bet he's cursing me and my family in his head right now. If anyone dies, I know it's due to his vexation, at least.

Todd is nice enough to follow up on his first statement by snatching my TV remote from under Larry's ass and loading up Youtube. He doesn't even have to search, the new-- holy shit-- the new music video is the first in my recommended section.

DAC has never made a music video. Ever. And it's a new song in general, I'm about to combust. I never thought I'd see the day. And why the hell didn't I get a notification?

I briefly travel through my memories, picking out the moment I watched North playing his guitar on stage. His eyes, shadowed by his mask but looking straight at me. His hand shaking mine, cold leather beneath my skin.

It takes every fiber of my being to not smile over the thought of him. He was just so nice, and hot, and talented... I can't help myself.

Travis and I jump forward whenever Todd clicks on the video, flocking in front of my television to watch what's about to unfold. Travis has heard more than enough about this band to know that I love them, so his accompaniment is merely moral support. He knows damn well I'm about to fall apart so he'll be there to pick up my pieces.

"They're metal, right?" Trav tuts, tone dispassionate due to lowered expectations. He's such a metal hater. "Hot members though..." he tacks on, trailing off as the song opens up.

"They're mine," I proclaim, drowning in adoration for DAC. They're literally just standing with their instruments right now for the intro, no words no music. Just a blank slate. But I'm enraptured, eyes glued to the screen as I thrum with energy.

"Our castle was built in Spring; We longed for books and bricks. To fantasies we did cling, So our castle was made of sticks.

Of worn and cracked logs-- Papier-mâché, our key, Of fragile and brittle walls Our castle came to be."

I shiver over the string of lyrics invading and possessing my soul. Oh, how I obsess over North's voice and the sweet symphony of Dark Autumn Complex's instruments.

"You can't lay claim," Travis scoffs, elbow knocking into mine when North stops singing to play his guitar. "Suppose they're gay, huh? I get to fuck them and you don't." He pridefully tilts his head up, small grin playing on his lips as he continues, gaze drifting toward me. "And you better believe I wouldn't spare you a damn thought during doggy."

I damn near break my neck to glare over at my cousin. I can hear Ash wheezing behind me and Larry's suspiciously quiet-- my only guess is that he's laughing so hard that not even a single noise can be heard. Todd simply sighs.

"I guess it's a good thing the lead singer probably thinks I'm hot, then," I boldly state, even though I know it's a really long shot. I'm putting words into poor North's mouth and the fucker doesn't even speak. But, hey, all is fair in sex and war. Travis can suck it so long as 'it' is not North.

"You yearned for an out of reach jewel; Opulence, luxury, and solace. All this greed made you cruel, Made you break your promise.

You readied your match and flame-- Cursed our castle and thought it trash. Without warning the fire came And reduced our memories to ash.

My romance of choice is Death Where you don't reside. By silence I abide, And keep you-- I tried. Alone at last, I take my final breath."

The living room is dead silent as North sings again, his gloved hand wrapped around the microphone in front of him while East and South dominate the sound, taking over in place of the guitar for a moment.

Listening to cathartic music, so much emotion filling my entire being, is better than therapy ever proved to be. Good sound and touching lyrics are all I will ever need to heal. To feel less alone.

My thoughts turn to Sal who's watching the video, seemingly disinterested. He looks so calm regardless of Travis and my presence. I want to slap guilt into him. I want to make him hurt the way I did the night he hurt me.

"Delusions were a precious fairytale; Tender was the slow fester. Expectations in minute detail, But failure greeted the jester.

You placed me in the guillotine-- Bound, blind, and confined. My blood's your nicotine, So pull the lever, love, be kind.

I laid myself out for you to walk on So the castle sticks couldn't pierce your skin. I was the throne you sat upon From whence we became potent sin."

Larry interrupts my internal solace when the lyrics stop again. It seems to be a longer song-- I guess DAC took a chapter out of Avenged Sevenfold's book.

"I'm not the one who said it, but," Larry's mischievous chuckle sets off the danger alarms in my mind. Emo Buff Daddy likes to slap me with things I refuse to comprehend. "North totally has some kind of Joe Goldberg infatuation with you."

My mouth goes dry, my heart stammering with flutters and quick beats, like little fairies hammering away at my organ in an attempt to keep it together. He's joking. He has to be. But my tingling fingertips and empty lungs say otherwise-- they want this to be true. But then there's Sal, and somehow I'm concerned over the validity of Larry's statement. Why is Sal even a factor here? I'll never know.

I smile at Trav-- a smile that I really don't feel, but one that comes easy. "See?" I taunt. Travis scrunches up his nose in faux jealousy. "Thanks for the backup, Lar," I tell my friend with a little wink his way. I'm just going to assume he's trying to help me out with the spaced out, friendly family altercation happening between me and Travis.

"My romance of choice is Death Where you don't reside. By silence I abide, And keep you-- I tried. My essence in Macbeth.

Eat my thoughts; Drink my soul. Exchange silence that haunts For the the peace you stole.

I am a fiend, a monster, a disgrace-- All the things you crave. I am a lover, a believer, a warm embrace; All of which led me to my grave."

"No problem, Vi," Larry chirps during another break in the song. I blink, heart falling a bit. With the deep lyrics resonating within me like this, the knowledge that Larry was just trying to help me out is disappointing. As much as I want North's affections, it wouldn't work out. Wouldn't be right. I have to accept that-- it's not like I'll ever get a chance to talk to the guy again anyway.

"Just spreading the truth," Larry says in a sing-song voice. Just like that, my soul is alight yet again. Is he still fucking with me or is this for real? My only notice is when Ash smacks Larry in the back of the head, her lips pinched together and eyes piercing into his soul.

What in the hell is with those two?

"I rot in this cage of reminiscence, Watch our connection burn. Sob in the name of innocence And for what was lost I still yearn.

This was never self-love-- Hypocrisy residing in my longing. Of my naivety thereof, To my own soul I'm desperately calling.

My romance of choice is Death-- Where I don't exist, So my thoughts can't persist. Extinguish what demolition kissed; I sink into abysmal depths."

I don't know who wrote this song, but they're hurt as hell. And I relate. I feel like this song popped up at the perfect time. Dark Autumn Complex understands me like no other and I resonate so deeply that I feel like I've known each member all my life. There's this ridiculous, false connection between me and them that I wouldn't admit to a single person.

My lips part as I watch the video zoom in on all the members, slowly centering on North who harshly whispers,

"It was never an alias, Nothing spontaneous. This is the half of me I have always wanted to be."

He repeats the words over and over again, voice slowly fading out until the screen goes black. I feel like I'm in a trance, like North just hypnotized me and I willingly went with the entire bit.

Travis clicks his tongue disappointedly beside me, stealing my attention away from the song that I'm going to play on repeat later tonight.

"Damn you for always pulling the pretty people," he grumbles, turning to face me. "I take back your cake. You have the hot male lead, you owe me food now."

"I'm so glad you've accepted reality," I chirp, patting Travis on his broad shoulder.

This entire spiel is something I have to ignore. North isn't crushing on me, he isn't interested. He never will be. And I can live with that! I've shaken his hand and gotten to see him play live. Totally don't need his tongue in my mouth or anything.

I walk toward my kitchen pulling my phone out and opening up Twitter. I'll do exactly what I've done every single time DAC's put out new music.

"Everyone okay with eggs and bacon?" I murmur distractedly, uploading the link to the new song, Consonance of a Tragic Villain. I tweet the link then turn my head over my shoulder to look at my friends. Sal's head is trained down to his phone since the TV has been turned off, replaced with Breaking Benjamin, courtesy of Ash. Is he embarrassed or something? He can't even hang out with the people around him. Even Todd is standing up to go and converse with Travis.

"Just hurry up and cook, woman!" Larry exclaims, grinning at me with that handsome face of his. And the tattoos littering his toned arms. And the... yellow stain... on the front of his shirt. But it's fine, even the most beautiful people can't be perfect.

I narrow my eyes at him as I turn into my kitchen, feeling my phone vibrate in my hand. "Watch yourself, Lartholomew," I bite out, flicking off the metalhead. Larry has to be short for Lartholomew.

"Lartholomew?" He stumbles over the word. "Stupidest shit I've ever heard. You could've done so much better than Sal's middle name."

I was about to check my notifications, but my head snaps up before I can see. I nearly choke on air as my gaze falls onto Larry. "Sal's middle name is Lartholomew?" I ask, disbelief and amusement bubbling up in my body. I have to agree with Larry, that's fucking hilarious.

"No, no, it's Bartholomew!" Larry cackles, pointing a finger at me. "Isn't that hilarious?"

Sal sighs exasperatedly, throwing his head back. "I'm going to castrate you Larry," He grumbles, frustrated and on his last mental leg as he lunges toward Larry, throwing an arm out to slap. With Ash between them though, the altercation is broken up very quickly.

"Fuck. Off." Sal bites out at his step-brother who really gets a kick out of the scenario.

I turn my attention away from the brothers, taking out ingredients and utensils that I need to cook with. While the bacon is sizzling on the stove, I finally check on the notification on my phone.

It's from Twitter.

dacnorthxx: 🖤

My eyes go wide. The comment is under my tweet of their new song and I'm really going to fall apart right here. Does this mean he remembers me? Or is this mere coincidence? My thoughts are running rampant, tummy bubbling with excitement. I can't breathe, all the oxygen is trapped in my throat under lock and key.

I comment back, my thumbs moving a mile a minute as I gulp. My entire body is a carnival of pins and needles. I feel faint.

violetviolence: @ dacnorthxx OMG?????

Someone get me a diaper because I think I'm going to pee myself.

dacnorthxx: @ violetviolence OMG!!! my idol

Is this real life? Can't be. Nope. No way. I'm about to throw up and the bacon is burning-- oh shit, the bacon is burning.

I throw my phone onto the kitchen counter and quickly pull the food off the stove, setting each strip of bacon onto a separate plate so they don't burn even more.

"Food's done," I say as loud as I possibly can considering the heavy amount of excited stress I'm undergoing. My voice comes out trembling, so I cough to cover it up as best as I can.

Dark Autumn Complex is quickly becoming my favorite band, North most prevalent out of all the members. I swear I'm not delusional-- well, maybe.

I type out something in response to his comment.

violetviolence: @ dacnorthxx STOP UR JOKING

Then I tuck my phone into my pocket. I'm being crazy. He's just being kind and he might like my comment after this but that's it-- that's as far as the exchange will go. I'm not stupid, I'm not delusional, I'm not insane.

Each of my friends, including Travis, files into my kitchen, grabs a plate of food, and then walks back into my living room like a train of preschoolers. It's a little humorous until the straggler comes in, it's not hard to tell who that is at this point anymore either.

Sal grabs a plate of food, comes to a stop behind me. The counter that peers into my living room separates us from the rest of our friends and having this kind of partial privacy with him smoothes out the wrinkles in my brain. This is horrifying when throwing in the context of our last meeting into the situation.

My heart skips a beat upon noticing his presence beside me. I glance up at him, noting the way he peers down at me with lidded eyes. Speculating, curious, leering. There's something hidden there, something he's locked away in a little mental box.

But I'm mid-chew and staring over at him like a deer caught in headlights, so I couldn't care less about whatever the hell he's hiding.

He watches me a moment longer, then drops his plate onto the counter beside mine. My eye twitches in pure amazement and agitation as he moves to stand beside me, leaning his elbows on the surface of the counter. As soon as he's settled though, he turns his head forward to watch the rest of The Faces and Travis who are all, surprisingly, catching up rather than being awkward.

The unspoken question of why he's standing beside me never gets spoken, the unknown simply percolates in the energy we somehow seem to share. I can't explain how I simultaneously wake up and lose brain cells when he's near, but it's definitely something I can't deny.

I watch him, wait. He wouldn't stand here to bask in my presence, I'm not that naive. That still doesn't answer why he's here though.

That dagger tattoo of his is on display right before me, just inches away from my eyes. He's that close-- so close that I can pick out every point of the ink on his skin. The soft waves in his layered, cerulean hair. The piercings in his ears. The sharpness of his jawline, edges of scars peeking past his expressionless prosthetic. And I can smell him. Something good, something masculine, something so him.

"Your bacon's shit," he rasps in that infuriatingly pretty voice of his. He never looks at me.

My wary expression turns into a glare. See? What did I just say?

But before I can bitch him out, something cool gently brushes along the top of my bare thigh.

I flinch in surprise, gasping as I glance down to see what the hell touched me because that's not normal. I've never bumped into anything while standing here, and this is my prime eating spot.

And as I frantically turn my attention to assess my mental commotion, I notice Sal's hand near me, his index finger just a centimeter away from my skin. I swallow against the realization-- it was him. He touched me.

I look up at him, eyes narrowed in question. What is he getting at? What is this game he's playing? I don't want him to string me along just so he can say he doesn't want me anymore when he inevitably leaves LA again. When he leaves me again.

He tilts his head inconspicuously as if to ask if he can continue, and I stare at him. I don't move, hell, I don't even breathe. I don't know what I should do. Because I do want him to touch me, but I know I shouldn't let him. Both for myself, but also because of him and Travis. I really shouldn't.

And Sal looks like he's about to apologize, this regretful look enveloping his eyes-- a look that makes my chest ache because there's such strong emotion, so much guilt. Guilt that he doesn't need to feel regarding this because... because he always double checks. He always asks for consent. That's something I've never had to worry about with him.

And maybe it's just the hurt in his eyes, something I haven't seen before and something I don't want to see again, but I nod at him. I nod to tell him he's okay. He can touch me.

He blinks, the emotion that was building ever so slowly slipping away from his gaze in a flash. I feel like what I saw was a hoax, a hallucination. It leaves his cerulean gaze that quickly.

And I can't watch myself fall back into this again. I know I've made a mistake, but it's one that I can't find myself regretting. Whether I like it or not, I have this insatiable attachment to-- obsession with-- Sal.

I turn away from his eyes that bore into mine, gaze at my living room again and bite down on a piece of bacon. Wait for the inevitable, which happens the minute my eyes aren't on him anymore.

Cold fingers crawl across the back of my thigh that's closest to Sal. The feeling of his fingertips dancing across such sensitive skin, slow and purposeful. Meaningful in that frustrating way of his. Just fingertips up until he's gotten across enough skin to grip my flesh in his hand and squeeze.

We're in a bad position. We probably look so suspicious right now-- if anyone were to glance over here and see us, they would be wondering what the hell was going on. Because the two of us? Willingly standing beside each other and not bickering? Preposterous.

I don't look at him. He doesn't look at me. Just runs his hand over and squeezes the back of my thigh to his heart's content. But I see him out of the corner of my eye, my heart fluttering all the while as goosebumps rise all over my body. Just barely seeing the way his chest rises and falls calmly, his hair brushed aside to show off his tattooed neck, the feeling of his skin on mine.

I lick my dry lips, start drumming my fingers against the counter beside my plate because I can't take this.

Maybe Sal saw my nerves getting to me, whether he was able to hear my pounding heart, see the way I nearly started hyperventilating, or just from my hands unable to stay still. But his touch is gone instantly, very suddenly.

I swallow thickly, blinking at my friends. Larry... has Travis in a headlock. Things might be bad! But in the moment, that's not my concern. Sal's phantom touch still lingers on my skin, the delicate brush of his fingers along my thigh much like a whisper now, but still there. My brain is still living in the fresh memory of what happened thirty seconds ago.

He doesn't speak. Neither do I. There's nothing to say-- this was random, unprepared. So what the fuck has just transpired? Figment of my imagination? Is the psychotic breakdown happening? I've been awaiting its arrival.

I'm not quite sure what kind of reaction I'm having, especially when Sal slides his phone out of his pocket and starts scrolling like nothing just happen. An unwanted lump forms in my throat, my palms sweat. I feel used. Again. And I knew I would feel like this because Sal is Sal-- he's not kind, he isn't gentle. He just gets what he wants. I'm at fault too because I've fed into that behavior, reinforced it by giving him what he wants.

"Sal!--" Ash bellows. I snap my head up, eyes wide. Why is there yelling? "I swear, guys, he's a literary genius." Ash's eyes are alight with mirth and pride. She trusts Sal to back up her statement, but I don't think he's going to. Sal Fisher is anything but a literary genius-- he is not a book boy. A misogynistic, old ass man wrote his patriarchal Smurf ass. God, I can't stand him. But, here I am, standing...

"Recite Poe!" Ash yells again, gesturing to Sal with her hand like she's the Phantom of the Opera. That's quite an image.

Edgar Allan Poe is a recurring and foreboding theme in my chapter today. Literally, not breaking the fourth wall.

I side-eye Sal who has no reaction. He doesn't even look up to acknowledge Ash, simply cocks his head to the side with his eyes still glued to the phone, typing something out.

And then his voice. His stupid, stupid voice. Monotonous, uncaring. But the feeling-- the emotion-- embedded in his words makes me want to topple over. And he didn't even write them.

"For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea-- In her tomb by the sounding sea."

That's what he says. Completely recites the last stanza of Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe. The same poem that the poet used to capture the hearts of so many women at his public readings.

He's not Poe though. Sal is not Poe. And the raspy, unfeeling tone of his eclectic voice will not capture me. Not when he's been two migraines and a stroke. Never.

Is it wrong of me to appreciate the tender way he pronounced 'Annabel Lee?' His voice danced around her name as if it were a waltz, something precious and rich with his affection. And his voice grew with passion when mentioning the moon and stars, dying off into something gentle and warm once he repeated 'my darling.'

Envious isn't the word. Ravenous, on the other hand, is. In every word, in every recollection, in every universe.

I turn my head to him, chest hot with esurient rage because how dare he be so...

Sal turns his head to me, emptiness reflected in his cobalt gaze. A darkness so ever-present, one that never disappears. And I forget all the strife in my mind.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, but I ignore it, holding eye contact with Sal while Ash's excited screams of praise fade into the background.

Before angry thoughts can filter into my head again, Sal turns away like he was never even looking at me in the first place. He grabs his plate, hair swaying slightly with his every movement, and he walks away. Meets with everyone gathered in my living room.

I chew the inside of my cheek, watching Sal come to a stop beside Travis and I loathe the way some kind of abhorrent, negative, spiteful feeling rips me in two. Those two men want nothing to do with each other and the last thing I need to be worried about is Sal to begin with. He's bad, awful, terrible.

I'm going to have to socialize soon before Travis starts batting me about being a recluse, but I need just a moment to push aside whatever ancient Transylvanian spell Sal casted over me with his recitation first. So, to distract myself, I pick up my phone to see what caused the buzz.

My jaw instinctively clenches shut, an uncomfortable chill crawling up my spine when seeing the discord notification followed by Sal's username.

I click on it.

SALLYFʌCɜ: i'm sorry. SALLYFʌCɜ:and you'll never hear it from me again, but you deserve it this time. the way i broke things off was insensitive, it was sudden with no warning. and i promised i'd fuck you. and i want to. if you don't want that anymore, perfectly understandable. figured i'd give you the offer instead of silently regretting what i did.

I blink at my phone screen, nauseating butterflies kicking and screaming inside my belly. Begging me and peer-pressuring me, telling me I better not skip out on this.

I won't skip out on it, but this is the last time. From what I've gathered in the short time I've known Sal is that he's careless and unkind. He'll attack you given whatever means necessary. And when he goes overboard, he apologizes with the assumption that everything will go back to normal and all is forgiven. I mean, kudos to him for even apologizing to begin with, but repetition makes all the sorry's meaningless.

I shut my eyes and let my head droop a bit. I shouldn't. I really, really shouldn't.

I swallow down the bile working its way up my throat and start typing.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: had i not been here today, would you have ever apologized and extended the offer?

My gaze travels upward until I'm looking at everyone again. Sal isn't involved in the conversation. In fact, he's on his phone. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to collapse again.

Remember the first time I met him? When I assumed he would be the type to avoid confrontation? Fuck me for being wrong because he's the one who brings confrontation.

My phone buzzes in my hand.

SALLYFʌCɜ: no. SALLYFʌCɜ: i'm taking these circumstances as a sign. i've been thinking about it

I run my palm over my forehead. He's being honest with me, I respect that. Maybe this is a sign then, like he said. He's been bugging me for weeks, picking at me and being aggressive. Maybe that was a result of how torn up he was over internal guilt? I'm not sure but I'm not one to turn away from something this obvious sitting right in front of me.

VIOLETVIOLENCE:okay. when are you leaving?

The reply is instant.

SALLYFʌCɜ:6am tmr. that problem's solved though. ash is going to invite you to come with us SALLYFʌCɜ:i would be pissed and angsty like usual at the idea, but if you accompany us, that just opens up more time and opportunities.

To go with them? Ash? Where the hell are we going?

My eyebrows scrunch together in both confusion and intrigue as I start typing back.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: how do you know ash is even going to invite me to go with you guys?

SALLYFʌCɜ:it's ash. use your fucking head.

It takes everything in me to bite down the snort that so desperately wants to be released. He's right. And my ignorance aggravated him. This is everything I've grown used to, everything I want.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: typical of you to assume. suppose she doesn't invite me, then we both lose out, prick.

I hear a soft, quiet, and distinctly Sal-sounding chuckle from a few feet in front of me. Damn him and damn the way a smile starts growing on my lips at the audacity, the familiarity, the chaos of it all.

SALLYFʌCɜ: i wouldn't have made the promise if i didn't intend on keeping it. watch what you say and give ash five minutes to remember that you're in the room. actually, give her brain a boost. SALLYFʌCɜ: come here.

No questions asked. I shut my phone off and slip it into my pocket, looking up to assess my surroundings.

Everyone is in a huddle. Wherever I surface, someone will move over to make room for me. Given that Sal and I were so close a couple minutes ago, I should probably stand away from him now. I'll just scoot in on the other side of Larry. That feels safe, he's standing beside Sal so it's a simple excuse too.

I walk over to everyone, my feet feel heavy like they're covered in 15 snuggly kittens each. I'm weighed down, reluctantly making my way over to them. My cheeks feel hot. I'm second guessing everything.

I don't like hiding from my friends, it makes me nervous and I feel terribly guilty. Like, if Sal and I are fucking around, they should know. But something about their group, about The Faces, says they do not date within the circle.

Date? What the hell am I talking about? I meant fuck.

I come to a stop right behind Sal and instinctually pinch my lips together. This was not the plan-- I meant to curve to someone else. But I got distracted by my own anxiety, which, this wouldn't be the first time. I just wish it wouldn't furl my plans like this.

Upon assessing the small group gathered in my living room though, I can tell that Sal would be the only one to allow me access into the circle. Ash is dramatically talking with Todd who seems zoned in and solely focused on the conversation, shockingly. Todd's not one to be very engaged in conversation often, so my guess is that they're talking about business or science. Given Ash's infatuation for the arts though, I'd bank on business as the topic.

On the other end of the small circle, Travis is grinning awkwardly at Larry who's deep into an explanation about Dragon Ball Z lore. Throwing up his hands, nodding his head vigorously, and leaning into Travis's personal space. They squashed beef rather quickly.

And Sal, he's just present. Not involved, simply there like he was when he walked over here.

He's also the only person expecting me.

He turns his head over his shoulder, glancing down at me with his emotionless but bright eyes. I gulp down the nervousness crawling inside me like poisoned bugs; it's hard though. Every time we make eye contact today, I feel stuck. It's almost unbearable. Did I miss him or something? Or-- oh, yuck. Do I have a crush on him?

I hate to even think it, but I find him attractive. That's the roots to the plant. Just because there's a sprout doesn't mean it has to grow into anything-- and I surely won't grow with this ass. Nope, major pass.

Meh, it's not a crush. He's just pretty and mean. I'm flustered is all. Who doesn't like a handsome man with an attitude?

Sal takes a step toward Larry, making a tiny little spot of space for me beside him. The move is so inconspicuous that it's impressive. It makes me wonder how many things he's tried to get away with in his lifetime, to be able to know what, how, and when to move so others don't notice his unfolding plans.

I start moving forward, eyes still on him. And his eyes are on mine too when Larry's elbow whacks him in the back of the head.

There's a hiss, a resounding pained yell, and a clatter. I simply blink, watching Sal grab onto the back of his head in pain and Larry with tears in his eyes, snuggling his elbow close to his chest.

There's something wrong. Something wrong with Sal's messier-than-it-was-moments-ago hair and the expression of unadulterated fear that strikes Larry's face. He looks as though he's stabbed Sal, betrayed his step brother in the worst way possible.

And Sal. Sal.

His eyebrows nearly match his hair. And they're furrowed, signaling the contempt in his soul. He tilts his head up, eyes glued to the floor before they flit up to me. I watch him with wide eyes, unable to fight off the shock plaguing me.

Half of Sal's face is emaciated, the other is almost completely untouched. It's a wonder to look at-- out of everything, I didn't expect to ever see his face. I didn't expect it to look like this either. His left cheek is sunken in, a scar running up the middle, the shape and placement reminding me of a Glasgow smile. His cheek bone is ragged, uneven with sharper points and parts that are sunken in, much like his jaw. And part of his nose is missing too, making the half that's still there more prominent with the way the scar healed. Other little scars litter the wounded side of his face-- plenty through his eyebrows, over his lips.

And the scars on his lips stretch up to the middle of his cheek, his chin, all in various place. A lightening strike permanently etched onto his face. A beautiful work of art that he lives with every single day.

The other half of his face, the one that seems nearly untouched, gives me a glimpse of what he'd look like had he never been scarred. Little, light freckles are splattered across his nose and the apple of his cheek. His lips are full, pink, soft-looking aside from the cracks here and there-- undoubtedly a result of constant biting. Sharp jawline, like I'd assumed.

He turns away from me, his expression slackened a bit. Then he starts yelling at Larry and I have to process the unfortunate truth that I couldn't look at him longer.

Maybe it's a crush now.

I take a breath as Ash suddenly flinches in my peripheral vision upon noticing Sal's bare face. In the meantime, I lean down and brush my fingers over his prosthetic that landed on the floor. It feels surreal to touch something that is so impactful in mine and Sal's life. I find myself hating it a bit because, as much as I loathe admitting it, Sal is pretty. I knew he would be. And the added confirmation sucks me into a dissociative state. I don't feel real, this is just some immaculately designed psychological horror and I'm the spectator, watching as everything falls apart. Forgetting that I'm a main character, falling apart with everyone else.

I swallow the internal panic and revelations and close my fingers over his prosthetic, lifting it into my subtly shaking hands. I need a nap and an edible or something.

I stare down at it for a moment, hesitating to look up when the yelling pauses for a moment.

When I do lift my gaze, Sal has turned back to me, his lips pressed into a thin line and brows still furrowed. And this time, it's not impenetrable and never-ending anger in his sapphire eyes. It's fear. Disgust. Regret. A lot of negativity and I think it's directed toward himself.

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, chewing on it incessantly in an attempt to stomp down the immense number of emotions suddenly awakened within me. I'm feeling way too much. Feeling blissful over his beauty, but broken over his reaction to himself. I can't imagine how long he's gone feeling so disgusted about himself-- I can't say anything to make him feel better because it wouldn't matter. My view of him doesn't come close to comparing to his view of himself. I can see it in his eyes.

My hands move toward him, silently offering the prosthetic back. Sal's gaze drops down, seeing his lifeline in my hands and his nostrils flare like he's on his last leg before he absolutely breaks. I know that feeling.

His hand clasps onto the mask, not gently but not aggressively. Just grabs it like I'm a completely normal person and not someone he both despises and craves.

His fingertips brush over the back of my hand, and he's suddenly ripping the prosthetic away like I've murdered his pet in cold blood.

I watch in dissociative shock as he turns back to Larry, prosthetic still in his hand.

"Sal, man, I'm really sorry," Larry rasps out, that terror and worry still on his face. He's not scared of Sal, just scared for him. "I didn't mean to."

Sal doesn't utter a word. He lifts the prosthetic and smacks Larry upside the head with it. A resounding, hollow thunk echoes through the room as Larry yelps in pain. My eyes widen a little more and Travis breaks out into cackling laughter, slapping a hand over his mouth to unsuccessfully hide his reaction.

And Sal doesn't react to the abuse of his brother, just walks over to my couch and situates his prosthetic onto his face again.

I can't get the image of him out of my head. His doe eyes and exotic face tattooed into my temporal lobe for life. My eyes follow him, watch as he opens up his phone again to escape reality. Clearly, the device is a crutch for him. It's a getaway from present events.

A nudge on my waist makes me slowly peel my gaze away from Sal, who I seem to be viewing in a new light. I've gone through fresh hell today, this was the bittersweet cherry on top.

I switch my focus to Ash, who's now standing beside me and, I would guess, the person who nudged me. She gives me a hesitant, rueful smile.

"We're going back to Nockfell tomorrow," she says softly, hand lifting to graze over my cheek affectionately. Her crimson nails clash with the ethereal color of her foresty eyes, but it works. They clash wonderfully. "Do you want to come with us? Reminisce a bit?"

"Why did you guys come, by the way?" I ask in a small voice, eyes flitting between hers curiously. I'm still in a state of shock too, so her comfort is appreciated.

Ash's features change, an excited grin slowly building on her lips. She's holding back something big. "We found an apartment a few buildings down. I've been researching for a while, trying to find a place near you ever since we built up the money to move."

My expression falls. They're moving? Here?

My very essence is filled with immense joy, contentment, and happiness. I don't know how to correctly portray how wonderful it feels to know that Ash is going to be near me every single day again. I can walk to her now, I don't have to fly. I can hug her, I don't have to watch her through a phone screen.

I blink at Ash as she swipes her thumb under my eye, grabbing onto my cheeks and pulling me foreward until our foreheads touch. It takes me a moment to realize that where her finger rubbed over my skin left a wet residue.

And so begins the break down.

I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to gather myself and to stop the tears before I start full on sobbing in my best friend's arms.

"So will you come? To Nockfell?" She asks softly, tilting her head to kiss the tip of my mask's nose. "If I tell you we need help packing, will that be an an acceptable excuse?"

I sniffle, unable to stop myself as I nod my head vigorously. I can't find the right words or think the right thoughts to use my voice to answer her. I can't even quite understand my own emotions.

Ash nods against me, an elated smile building on her lips.

"And so the prodigal daughter returns to her hometown."

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N::::: NORTH FANS RAISE YOUR FUCKIN HANDSSSSSS!!!!!!

okay soooo yayyyy!! after twenty chapters we finally have half a face reveal *cue really shitty white girl dancing* my babies in the comments have been asking for a y/n face reveal but, hehe, you know i'm a little shit >.<

anywayyssss, sorry this chap is a little late! i left a comment to someone saying i would post yesterday LMAO but it's here now and i hope you guys like it <3 please, feel free to leave some constructive criticism because i would like to publish a book someday and can't do that if i don't make progress and improve!!!

task for everyone: TELL ME SOMETHING I CAN IMPROVE IN MY WRITING!! and be nice please or you'll break my heart :3

as always, sending you guys all my love! have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night and remember to eat well, drink water, and go out in the sun for a bit! FUCK VITAMIN D DEFECENCIES!!

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic

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r4zberrygirl · 2 years ago

Text

Checkmate, I couldn’t lose

akaashi keiji x gn reader, collegeAU, fluff, 1k

cw: suggestive but like barely

an: my first actual post for this blog! sorry if this is bad lol no pronouns and no physical description of reader :) -raz

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Mastermind

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

Midterm exams were right on top of you at this point and the only cafe within comfortable walking distance, that also happened to have the best mocha lattes you’ve ever tasted, just closed for remodeling. You sank further into your chair inside the cramped library on the corner and holding your bitter homemade coffee, decided your week could not get any worse. Sighing and leaning over your laptop you glance upwards and your heart stops. You try to avoid your staring being too obvious but the stranger standing in front of a shelf labeled ‘classics', seemed to be the most breathtaking person on earth. He looked tired and held a coffee, but his black curly hair and jade eyes made you stare for probably longer than you should’ve. Breaking out of your stupor, you determine that if there's one thing you can do to make your week of midterms less shitty, it's getting this hot guy’s number. You stand from your chair and pretend to look through the shelves at his back, even tilting your head and running your finger along the spines to really sell the act. You take a silent breath, a measured step back, and bump into him. He turns to steady you in surprise. “Are you alright?” he asks, pushing his glasses up and looking into your eyes with concern.

“Yes I'm so sorry! I was just looking for Shakespeare’s work!” The lie rolls off your tongue like you had been planning it, which of course, you had.

“I think his works are right here actually. What are you looking for?”

“Hamlet.” Luckily your lie from earlier was mostly based in truth as you really were struggling in your literature course right now. “I wasn’t paying good enough attention in class and now I’m stuck trying to study for this midterm,” you said, sounding slightly guilty.

His eyes glow a little as he speaks, “Oh! I'm actually an English major. I took that class last semester. Professor Kimura, right?”

You release a sigh of relief because your plan of getting this hot guy's number might actually benefit you in more ways than one. “Yes!”

“I can try to help if you want. I don't have any of my stuff from that class right now, but maybe we can meet up tomorrow?” He says with a soft smile.

You smile and put your hands together, “Yes please! That would be incredible! I’m ____ ____ by the way!”

“I’m Akaashi Keiji.” He holds out his hand and motions towards your phone. You hand it to him excitedly and he makes a contact for himself. “Text me later so we can pick a time and we’ll meet here if that works for you.”

“That works perfectly for me,” you respond. This felt like a dream, maybe this week isn’t so cursed after all. He grabs a book off the shelf behind you and puts it in your hands, “And I think this is what you were looking for.” He turns and walks away but not before flashing you a smirk. Your gaze falls to the book in your hands and you chuckle. Hamlet.

You agree to meet tomorrow at 9 in order to start the day off strong and be productive. That night you go to sleep with a smile and wake to your alarm blaring in your ears. You sit up and rub your eyes. It's brighter than usual at this time and you reach for your phone off the nightstand. You overslept. You must’ve hit snooze on your first alarm not realizing it and now you’re gonna be late. You get dressed and brush your teeth as quickly as you can before grabbing your bag and an apple and getting out the door. You deem coffee as unnecessary, you can live without it for one day.

Akaashi meets your gaze through the window, somehow just as gorgeous at 9am as he was at noon yesterday, and you make your way towards the table he’s picked out. “I'm so sorry I'm late! I slept through my first alarm,” you tell him frantically while getting out your laptop and sliding into the chair across from him.

“No worries. I actually brought you a coffee anyways, so I guess it all worked out,” he tells you looking at your slightly frazzled state.

“You didn’t need to do that, you're already helping me so much by being here, but thank you.” You mentally mark him down as a charmer. He grins at you and you begin to review his old notes together.

“Your exam isn’t until Wednesday, right?” Akaashi questions during a break you agreed on after an hour of studying.

“Yes, thank god,” you reply to him.

“Make sure to call me after so we can see how helpful I was,” he says jokingly.

Three days, and two and a half hours of testing later, Akaashi’s phone rings and you echo through the line, “I GOT AN 88!” He congratulates you through the phone and states how this calls for a celebratory coffee, his treat. You of course are not going to turn that down and meet up with him at a shop a few blocks from campus. Upon seeing him you trample him with a hug and thank him until he has to stop you from doing so anymore. Akaashi laughs at you softly, “You’re welcome, but I'm sure you could’ve done it on your own.”

From there, your friendship with Akaashi blossomed into a relationship as the first date turned into third, which turned into fifth, which turned into inviting you to a New Years Eve party his friend was hosting, which obviously turned into your first kiss and so much more. Recently, it seems like you spend more time in his apartment than your own but there's nothing you would change about that. Waking up next to him felt sacred, you could talk about whatever you wanted and he would always keep the conversation flowing with little questions and quips about whatever you’re going on about.

Keiji reaches across the sheets to pull you closer to him when he notices your quiet snores have stopped and you begin to stretch out your legs. Your arms naturally go up to his neck to play with his hair when he wraps his own around your waist. He smiles sweetly at you, “Good morning.”

You giggle for a second before responding, “Good morning to you too.” Your eyes travel up to meet his as you ask, “Keiji do you believe in fate?”

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it. Do you?” He replies, slightly confused on why you were asking such a deep question so early in the morning.

“Well I think it was fate that you walked into that little bookshop at the same time I was there.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I was having a horrible week and I think you were sent to fix it all.” He hums and kisses the top of your head as you fall into a short silence. “You know it wasn't an accident. Back at the library I mean. I bumped into you on purpose,” you admit and your cheeks heat up a little.

“I know,” he says and smirks down at you. You look up at him, shocked eyes and open mouthed, and he puts a deep kiss onto your lips. He knew the entire time. And he just went along with your scheme because apparently you weren't the only one whose heart stopped at the first glance of a stranger whose beauty was truly breathtaking.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x gn!reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi fluff #this is my first fic plz be nice to me #raz.writes #Spotify

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yourbratamber · 17 days ago

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The Waiting Game

With a sigh, I glance over my shoulder. I’m standing in the corner of the room in nothing but my underwear as I slide my thighs together a bit nervously, but oh so excitedly, too. I can hear Damien in the bedroom as he goes through the chest where all the punishment toys are kept. He’s searching for the perfect one.

In all honesty, I had known as soon as he walked me out to the car that this was where my comment at dinner was going to lead. A mere statement from him that turned into an outburst from me. I hadn’t wanted to go home yet. It was a Friday, after all. The night was still so young.

But we had a big day tomorrow, it being our anniversary, and that meant that I needed to be good and rested.

At the sound of my partner’s footsteps, I can’t help but give an excited shiver. He runs his fingers softly across my bare shoulders before leaving me where I’m at. I don’t dare move as I hear him walk into the kitchen and pull the chair out from the table.

It has been a few weeks since I last earned myself an actual punishment, and it shows.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Damien asks, his voice low but still somehow so alluring even when he’s about to beat my ass. There’s a soft knock against the table as he lays down what sounds like the leather strap.

Oh. He knows me way too well. That was exactly the one I wanted.

My toes curl up in anticipation as I look over my shoulder at him. He is so perfect standing there in that satin red dress shirt and slacks. So muscular and strong. It’s every bit of what I want and is all mine for the taking.

“No,” I tell him, tilting my chin upwards in that naturally brat-like demeanor. Even still, I try not to whimper as he gently grabs my wrist. He leads me to the table and takes a seat at the chair. My eyes fall onto the strap, my mouth going dry as I stand there waiting. My usual desire to banter wins out as I go on more hesitantly. “Why is it that big of a deal?”

I hate being in trouble.

But I love it so much, too.

And he bloody well knows it.

“You know the rules, Princess.” Damien says with a shrug. He gives a seductive smirk at me as he places a soft hand against my bottom, rubbing his thumb against it in smooth, cathartic circles and bringing me up right beside him.

He’s so calm and nurturing, yet still holds every bit of the control as he explains what this punishment is for. I gave him this power long ago, and while I still know that it all stops and ends with a safe word, I also understand that he won’t give me anything that I don’t deserve.

Plus, the aftercare is always phenomenal.

“You caused a scene in front of our friends,” He begins, speaking more sternly now. I don’t interrupt, biting my lip as I lock eyes with the brown mocha gaze beside me. “And that’s not going to work. You’re lucky I didn’t stripe your pretty backside right in the middle of the parking lot. Now, we’re going to give you your punishment. Then, you’re going to call Joey and Rebecca and apologize to both of them for your behavior because it ruined what was otherwise a fantastic dinner. After that, it’s off to bed and you’ll wake up tomorrow with better behavior. Understood?”

“I don’t want to, thoughhhhh...?” I can’t help but whine. As I do, I lean my head into his shoulder, hoping to get a little bit of mercy for the tantrum I’d thrown. This earns me a soft scoff but nothing more.

“Have it your way then,” Damien affirms.

Giving a sigh, he picks up the belt beside him. He gives a soft clap against his thigh before taking my forearm and directing me over his knees. He then slides my panties down so that they fall to my ankles, leaving me bare and slightly humiliated as I try to squirm out of his lap. He takes my arms and gently presses them with one firm hand against the small of my back.

Before he begins, his hand brushes against my hair, pulling it back so that he can see my face.

“I know you enjoy being over my knees,” he whispers into my ear. “But we’re going to make sure this lesson really hits the spot for you tonight. You’ve just been a bit too mouthy lately. You’re a good girl, but it seems you’ve forgotten who you belong to. We’re going to fix that.”

I give a moan, already way wetter than I’d like to admit before I feel the soft, enthralling leather run gently across my cheeks.

“Yes, Sir.” I finally submit. “I’ll be a Good Girl.”

And the punishment begins...

Damien starts out easy, not even using the belt.

As the first few smacks of his hand fire down upon my bottom, I can’t help but try to squirm out of his understandably tight embrace. This is definitely not one of our usually fun spankings. Not at all. I had stepped out of line, and it was his job as my Dom to help me understand that.

My ass is already heating up when he stops to rub gingerly at my cheek. We’ve been through this plenty of times for me to understand that the punishment isn’t just the butt whipping itself, but also the stiff talking to that comes with it.

“Do you remember when we first started this...dynamic, of sorts, between us?” Damien asks.

I’m actually slightly surprised at the question. That wasn’t at all like what I had expected to come out of his mouth. I knew tomorrow was our one-year anniversary but I didn’t think we were going to reminiscence just yet.

“Yes?” I offer, turning back to look at him, one arm extended towards the ground and my other leaning lazily against his slacks. He suddenly lifts his hand and gives me a sudden yet telling pinch as his fingers bite into my backside. I grimace and rephrase my statement as I give an aggravated nudge to his thighs, trying to adjust myself so I can look at him better. “Yes, SIR?”

He smirks at the sass I’m still giving him, even when I’m laying ass-up in his lap.

“Good Girl,” He tells me, glad that I got the message. He leans his face down beside mine then. He begins to run his fingers through my hair, fixing it so that it’s not so messy from my struggling. “And you are still enjoying it, right?”

I hesitate to answer. Damien gives me a soft squeeze to my backside, something like a massage.

“Is this a trick question? Of course I’m enjoying it.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Damien says, only to top it off with a rather menacing yet thought-provoking chuckle. “We’re going to do things a little differently with your punishment tonight. I’ve got a number in my head. It’s the number of swats you’re going to get with the strap. I want you to tell me how many you think you deserve.”

My head tilts to the side as I consider this game of his.

“You’re letting me choose?”

“Not quite,” He says with a simple laugh before he goes onto explain. He gives me another gentle squeeze as he speaks. All the sensations are running through me and it’s everything for me to control myself. I want him so bad right now. “You’re going to guess a number. If you guess too low, then you’re going to get double whatever I’ve already picked for you. Too high, then you’ll get yourself the original number I’ve already chosen plus any extra left over. In a sense, you’re going to mete out your own punishment.”

I can’t help but laugh, although my center is throbbing at the prospect. “That sounds like a fucked up version of Russian Roulette, SIR.”

He smiles at my snide comment. “Any version of that game is fucked up if you think about it. But this isn’t a game. It’s a punishment, Darling. So what will it be?”

For a few moments, I don’t answer. This is actually fairly genius on Damien’s part. Either way, I’ll get at least the number of swats I’m due and probably even more. I try to figure out what number my partner must have chosen but everything in me wants to low-ball it.

At the same time, if I’m too low, it’ll just make it harder on myself.

Not that I would care...would I?

Oh my god, this feeling of helplessness is invigorating. Exactly what Damien had planned on it being. I can’t help but wonder when he first came up with this plan of his. How long it had been sitting in the back of his mind.

Finally, and whether it was on my own accord or not I can say, a fleeting number is whispered from my mouth.

“What was that?” He asked, pretending not to hear me. He gives me a firm spat on my ass, cupping his hand so that it makes a louder clap. And a much more pronounced sting. I can’t help but gasp as his command exits his lips. “Speak up, Little Brat.”

“Fifty?” I offer, though the way I trail off makes it clear that I’m not too certain in my answer. I try to go on and explain my reasoning. “I embarrassed us in front of our friends and also the entire restaurant. You give me twenty just for fun so I think that’s a good number, Sir...”

For what feels like an eternity, Damien stays silent, continuing to draw little rhythmic circles across my warmed cheek. He finally gives me a gentle pat on my ass before he picks the belt back up. I hear the metal of the buckle scrape across the tabletop.

“Good Girl,” He tells me. As he hands down his approval, I breathe in relief. A gentle chill travels down my legs. “I’m glad you recognize that you’ve earned yourself some consequences and are taking this seriously. I was going to suggest forty, so we’re going to go with yours instead. It’ll make a better impression on you. You’ll also be counting them.”

Although I can’t bring myself to complain, when the first swat of the belt lands, I give a gentle gasp of something that feels very similar to ecstasy. The sixteenth has me shaking from adrenaline and excitement. Number twenty-nine is when it starts to really burn, and by forty I’m seeing stars in my vision. I try and try to pull from his lap but even I know it’s hopeless.

“Please, please, pleaseeeeee,” I beg him, my entire body feeling like it’s on fire. I refuse to use my safe word, because in some strange and fucked up way, I’m enjoying every bit of this. “Please, Sir. I promise I’ll be better.”

Once that last swat with the belt comes down, I can do nothing but cry.

All struggling has stopped.

All pleading ceased.

Now that my punishment is over, Damien has given me ample time to catch my breath. He helps me adjust into a sitting position on his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my chin on his shoulder as he holds me. My partner rubs tentatively at my back as he waits for me to come back down from all of the emotions and sensations I’d felt.

As much as my face is covered in tears and my ass burns, there are feelings going on inside of me that can only be understood by those who understand the beauty of being a submissive.

My worries are gone.

My walls are down.

All my stress and desire to have things under control have vanished.

“Speak to me.” Damien finally says. He pulls back from me and tilts my chin up so that I can look him in the eyes. He gives a gentle tsk of his lips as he eyes me down, analyzing every bit of how I responded to his rather firm punishment. “Tell me how you feel.”

I simply smile, and push my head further into his chest.

“Thank you, Sir.” I breathe.

#rough cnc #rough kink #daddy's good girl #spank me pls #nsft punishment #spankee #bd/sm brat #kink content #spank me daddy #bd/sm kink

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all-risejd · 1 year ago

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Chapter 20: Tilted Dimensions 2

Another crossover with After Shine

From the outside, Tilted Dimensions didn’t look that much different from the other buildings on its block back in Tampa, Florida. Seeing the weathered blue sign, with black lettering, white accents around the letters, in Cincinnati, Ohio, however made Danika pause. The building looks exactly the same, from the mismatched brick that sat over the painted blue sign, to the large windows that opened the front to sunlight, and the white metal chairs and tables out front. She pulls her phone out and quickly texts Finn to let him know she was now running late, and would be picking up donuts. Looking around the cold city that was threatening snow, she tucked her scarf a bit tighter and hurried across the street.

Tommy was behind the bar, his usual barista uniform on, with his tried and true black beanie on his head, and a crooked smile on his face, “Ms. Danika.” He grinned, “Good to see you, Ms. Nessa beat you here.” He pointed her toward a corner booth, where Nessa was in fact sitting. Danika looks at her watch, it's barely ten in the morning, she assumes it's going to be another hour visit, so she sets her watch to time them. Tommy calls after her, “I’ll bring you a drink, and some pastries.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” She mutters back, already sliding into the booth across from Nessa. Danika has gifts for the slightly older woman, having started carrying them around since the last time they saw one another. She slid her messenger bag into the booth against the wall and shot Nessa a big smile, “What the fuck happened to your hair? How have you been? Tell me the drama.” She leans forward, elbows on the table, her eyebrows dancing.

-/-

Nessa looks up from her hot chocolate when Danika slides into the seat across from her, asking a million questions. She sips her drink and wipes the whip cream off her lip before answering strategically, “I wanted to match the colors of the group, I was standing out too much. I have been adapting… They know who my ex is, we have talked and I told Angie and Aalyah and it went well. We are now all just getting harassed by them to have children…” Nessa’s leg bounces up and down rapidly and she begins to chew on her nails again.

“I’m fairly sure Rey is terrified at the concept of us adding children to the melting pot at this moment…” Danika exhales, as Tommy approaches with her White Chocolate Mocha and what looks like a pile of cookies. Nessa immediately grabs one, when Tommy is close enough, as Danika continues to talk, “So, the ex, he must be in the Industry if you're worried about it.” Danika doesn’t phrase it like a question, knowing the answer to a point, Tommy settles both down and heads away, Danika sips her drink, smiling at the warmth.

“I’m not so worried about that, I'm processing that trauma and am never alone when in an arena or event… Yes he is in the company, not just the industry. I know they would never let anything happen. Hunter……. Well I have issues with him but he at leasts is investigating the allegations from others especially since I have now told him but ….. I would love to hit him with his sledgehammer right now.”

“I know where that is in the vault, if you’d like directions.” Danika grins warmly, “Met Scrap Daddy yet?”

Nessa smirks, trying to hide it behind another drink of her hot chocolate. “The Scrappiest of Daddies. Yes and apparently I earned his respect when I said I’d go for his job when he implied I wasn’t a real wrestler. Oh yeah I’m training heavy on it right now. We have had some incidents because of Jefe. And with what I just found out… if it gets out… I’m screwed”

“Ohhh, earned it. I just demanded it.” Danika’s smile is one of mischief, “Although I’m pretty sure either of us could competently do Scrap’s job… no one is a real wrestler in the beginning, that’s why it’s called pro-wrestling, you have to become a professional, and to do that you have to be given a chance, did you hook up with those girls I told you about? And Jefe incidents for you are probably about as fun as Angie incidents for me, and whatever you just found out we can compare to Dominik got arrested at Christmas and spent many nights in jail.” Danika said it all in one go, then realized Nessa probably would prefer it if she didn’t drop bombs and rapidly talk.

“Uh well I demanded more training from Hunter who gave in too easily and now I know why. Asuka, Zelina and Indi are currently training me as well as our lovely partners. Like you, I now have many marks on my neck to keep covered. Courtesy of mainly Luis and Dems. Dom leaves his marks below the collar. After we returned from a week off to help Dems I was all… marked up and had it covered but people saw before it was covered and Jefe made Zelina go off script and hold me down wiping off the makeup… DOMINIK MISSED CHRISTMAS!... Yeah that beats my thing, we don't even need to bring it up. Are you ok! How are the kids?” Nessa rapidly asks when she processes the last thing Danika said.

“We are talking about your ex in the company and the thing you got blindsided by, we aren’t cruising by that. However, for now, I’ll explain.” Danika grabs a cookie and bites into it savagely, “Angie called the real police to a kayfabe story.” Danika pauses to grab another cookie to brutalize as Nessa whispers bitch. “The whole household was fucking messy. Like - it was Jace and Angel’s first Christmas with us, and Dom was so upset he missed it, and like he got hurt, not badly, but bad enough.” Danika pauses, thinking again, “Fergal was amazing through it all, and Luis came to the rescue, we borrowed The Bella's cabin in Canada, and AJ is no longer even remotely associated with us, he got injured, and is out. Uh, oh - oh - Rey and Dom made up after everything, and Rey is maybe flirting too close to the sun with Liv.” Danika’s on her fourth cookie.

Nessa munches on the cookies like she is eating popcorn watching a telenovela and nodding along proudly when she hears about AJ’s injury and non association but chokes on the cookie hearing about Jefe and Liv. Tom appears and sets down a glass of water in front of Nessa and pats her back before walking off again. Danika waits for her to recover, before adding the juicy bit of information, “He touched the butt on live TV, Nes, the butt.” Danika’s pitch is scandalized and a bit worried. Nessa begins to giggle uncontrollably once she stops choking.Sobering up Danika offers, “They are good together, like… I hate to say it but they really do seem to find comfort in each other, and if it makes Jefe happy, it makes us happy. Aalyah is a bit, uh, grossed out sometimes, Dom I think is proud that Jefe’s still got it.”

“As gross as that is, I get it. Angie and Jefe are arguing he wants to disown Dom until he comes back but she isn’t having it. She actually said that all of the Judgement Day are now her kids and any kid by any of them are her grandchildren. We can’t go a day without being harassed about grandchildren.” Nessa jokes and looks out the windows nervously before yawning. “Sorry it’s late here. We just finished Backlash and I’m in Puerto Rico so we got that out of the way early.” Nessa shrugs and eats another cookie.

“It’s early for me,” Danika admits, “It’s January sixteenth, Jefe has pretty much adopted Fergie, Luis, and Dems.” Danika admits, “Angie keeps tabs on us through Vickie, uh, Vickie Guerrero, I’m not sure how close your Dom is with Vic or the Guerrero girls, la familia.” For a moment Danika is silent then, “Did you get to meet Luis’ family? In Puerto Rico? He hasn’t let me meet his familia, I’m meeting Kevin Nash instead, he’s basically his wrestling daddy, other than Scott Hall, who I met as a teenager, but can’t meet again…” Nessa winces hearing his name and shoves a whole cookie in her mouth to buy some time. “Oh shit, please tell me Kevin Nash is not your psycho ex!” Danika almost lunges over the table to grab at Nessa’s hands in worry. Nessa rapidly shakes her head and continues chewing on the cookie, crumbs falling on the table, Nessa fighting back a gag while trying to swallow the cookie.

Danika visibly relaxes, then her brain catches up, “Wait a moment, what issue have you got with Nash, he’s pretty daddy as far as I know, like his old school gimmick was Big Daddy Diesel, and let me tell you, he’s big, he’s daddy energy, and he looks like he is super cuddly.” Danika ticks the things off like a research report.

Nessa gags, sticking her tongue out and dry heaves at the thoughts Danika is putting in her head. She collects herself long enough to take a sip of water and gasps a few more times to get her breathing right again. “No Luis did not want us to meet his family yet….” Nessa just ignores the Kevin sized elephant in the room.

Danika is a patient person, with those she loves, honestly, but, “What's the Kevin Issue, it’s that or the ex. We learned last time we don’t get to leave once the door shuts until we talk about everything. Not that I want to leave you but with the hour limit I’d like to get the icky stuff out of the way and then start the fun, like the gifts I brought you…” She pouts a little bit.

Nessa gasps and holds out her hands making a grabby motion and pouts wanting the gifts right away.

“Good girls get gifts, that’s what Luis taught me, you're not being very good now are you.” Danika counters.

“Hey no domming without informed consent you aren't my Dom so knock it off… Please,” Nessa pouts harder.

Danika rolls her eyes, her Dominik and this Nessa are cut from the same baby girl cloth, seriously. “Fine.” She says evenly, “You can have one gift for one question.” A smirk lights up her face, “Whatever your issue with Nash is, the sooner you tell me the sooner we can figure it out, and I’ll even let you choose which gift you unwrap first.” It’s a slight manipulation and tiny powerplay, but Danika’s worried about Nessa. “And you still haven’t told me about the hair, like did you just do it or did you get permission… asking for a friend. .”

“Danika, while I appreciate a good bribe, I don’t appreciate manipulations. I have dealt with that too much. That being said. I just did it. Remember I have control over my style…” Nessa holds out a hand expectantly for one of her gifts since she answered a question.

“Sorry, I guess I’m used to leveraging things to get what I want, growing up the not-daughter daughter of Rey Myesterio does that to a girl, but… good on you for defending yourself. I forgot how your contract is massively different from mine,” Danika pauses, thinking, “Would you like the Damo, Dominik, Rhea, or Finn gift, ooooor the one I brought just for you?”

“Dominik gift please…” Nessa bats her eyelashes, her hand still outstretched.

“I wish you were in my world, you're precious and I’d keep you.” Danika turns to dig through the bag, producing a simple blue and gold wrapped square, she hands it off with a smile, waiting for Nessa to tear it open so she can explain the gift. Nessa gently unwraps it like she is trying to save the wrapper, but really she is trying to annoy Danika who pushed her buttons. Danika has never met another person who takes care in unwrapping to Angie-Mysterio levels, but apparently Nessa does, as someone who has spent many Christmas’ waiting, she just sighs and sits back, watching.

Nessa sees that Danika is not reacting the way she expected so she just pouts and finishes unwrapping it seeing a picture of Eddie and Dominik. “That was taken a month before Eddie died, it’s the last time they spent any time together. It was a Guerrero party, not that that’s important, but there is only one other copy of it in my world, and I had to get Vickie to make copies. My Dom didn’t have it, and I’m pretty sure your Dom doesn’t, so, if you ever wanna make him cry big tears… now you can.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Well if I want to make him cry bitch baby tears I can just tell him I am pregnant.” Nessa gingerly runs her finger over the photograph and sets it down on the table with care, far away from any beverage or melted chocolate.

“Does Dom not want children, or would he be so happy he’d cry? I feel like there is a joke in there I’m missing, somewhere.” Danika hums, already looking for Tommy to bring her another drink.

“Yes, before he decided to be an imbecile and dump me, we were trying for a baby. When I realized he wasn’t coming back I got an IUD. Now we are back together and with the others and Ma just keeps hounding us about when we are going to try again. But I’m like we are still learning each other, it’s not the right time and she is all like ‘two of you are well past the age of when you should have had children so get started ’blah blah blah’.” Nessa bemoans, plopping back in the booth and crossing her arms.

Tommy comes back, placing a cup of tea in front of Nessa who looks up and thanks him and takes a sip, happy it is the perfect temperature. He also settles another White Chocolate Mocha in front of Danika who blows him a kiss in thanks before gazing at Nessa, “I, uh, I’m going off birth control, I haven’t really talked to the others about it, but it makes me icky.”

“I have an appointment next month to get mine out. It is causing me pain, like, constantly. Though I am all for starting a family, but idk how the others besides Damian feels and maybe Dom. It is something we all agreed has to be agreed by all because big decisions are a group decision and that is one of the biggest decisions. I talked to Luis about it and he has talked to the others but they haven’t talked to me and I am waiting on that. Though I should tell you what Luis said to Angie when she was harassing them over the phone,” Nessa smiles, thinking that Danika forgot about the other issue.

“You can tell me what Luis said, but I still wanna know what your issues with Daddy Kevin are and the ex. Then I can tell you more of my current problems.” Danika offers, sliding a blood red gift toward Nessa, this one is the one that Danika had wrapped while thinking of Rhea, and Nessa.

“You are the most infuriating woman…” Nessa complains then continues, “I am paraphrasing because he said it in Spanish and you know how the translations go, he started with I then changed to we…” Nessa blushes and watches for Danika’s reaction before continuing, Danika to her credit only hums, curious. “We would love to give you grandchildren, as many as possible and that she would make a perfect grandma… I almost went to the bathroom to rip out the IUD myself at that point.”

“You are not the first person to call me infuriating, at this point I just count it as flirting.” Danika settles back and thinks about what Nessa said, then, “Angie is a good Abuela.” She offers diplomatically. “Now, about that thing with Daddy Diesel.” At this point Danika is just teasing her, a smile pulling on her lips, “Are you going to open the box or not.” She hums, and pushes the red wrapped gift at her again.

Nessa’s eye twitches but she grabs the gift and unwraps it normally seeing a shirt with Rhea Ripley before she was Rhea Ripley. The image of the young girl is one hundred percent Demi Bennet, with long blonde hair, and an innocent smile, the girl there hadn’t been chewed up by WWE yet, hadn’t found herself, and her power. Instead the young blonde beaming up at her was pure joy. The shirt was cropped just below Rhea’s trunks, with BENNET across the back shoulders. “That was Rhea’s first Merchandise ever made, like for the Indie Circuit, she had others made that were more popular, but we have to share it, because as far as I know it’s the only one in existence.”

Nessa squeals and hugs the shirt to her chest. “Oh my god I love it. I would wear it on Raw if I could, but I am going to wear it next time we go on a date. Oh I can’t wait to see her face!” Nessa plans and taps her feet excitedly under the table. She continues hugging it to her chest and takes a deep breath. “Hunter gave me such a good contract because he knows my father,” Nessa admits and continues, “They are like best friends and I was kind of ambushed after the show. The others don’t know I just freaked out and texted them I was going on a walk and probably to a coffee shop since I knew I needed to vent and calm down I’d probably find this place here since it is like the TARDIS and going where I need it to go.”

“If Hunter is close with your dad that limits who your dad could be - uh XPac? Shawn? Road Dog? Billy Gun? Oh, wait, fuck, Nash is your father!” Danika looked at her with wide eyes, grabbing a cookie for herself, “Jesus, fuck, Dios, do you exist in my world?” She wonders aloud, head tilted back thinking hard.

“Yeahhhh… Come to find out my Dad, the one that was abusive growing up knew and that was why he did it. Though he wouldn’t grant the Get… the divorce, the Rabbi had to force it by convening a rabbinical court and issuing a decree because even getting shunned he wouldn’t give her the Get. Until someone beat some sense into him literally…” Nessa’s eyes widen a realization coming to her but she continues, “Nash paid for everything, even my nursing school. I am just blindsided by this and don’t know how to go forward or even tell the others…” Nessa sips her tea.

“Your step-dad sounds like a fucking asshole, good on the Rabbi who saw the need though. Kevin is about as subtle as a brick, so I’m going to guess he just dropped that shit on you, with no preface. If your Luis has a relationship with Nash, go through him, Nash and Hall, uh, Scott Hall, were big influences in Luis’ persona as a wrestler, and he loves them both very much. Knowing that Nash is your father he could help facilitate you two meeting in a favorable way, probably not at his house, his wife is grieving a son, still.” Danika leaned into the table a bit more subdued.

“I think that is part of the reason why he is reaching out now. One he has learned about my past, things Mom didn’t tell him and he was worried when he saw the marks. And two as a way to heal himself and earn forgiveness for the slight he views that he did against me. He doesn’t want to lose his last child I guess and I can’t hold that against him… But why now, why not before, or when I turned 18… or even after the divorce.” Nessa’s eyes fill with tears and she sniffles, using her sleeve to wipe her nose then eyes.

Danika slides out of her side of the booth, and carefully joins Nessa, to hug her and help her clean her face off, “Kevin has his demons, all wrestlers do from his generation, and hell, our generation. I have a feeling Kevin kept his distance to protect you. It’s not easy to be in a wrestling family, I’m not blood, but the adoption made me a Nepo baby. There is a lot of like… negativity that comes with being one of their children, everyone deals with it differently. I made my own brand, and… oh, shit you don’t know.” Danika looks at her carefully, “I worked with Impact, first, then AEW, I still have a ghost contract with them, and now I’m signed to WWE. I was never not going to be in the business, Kevin might have thought he was giving you an out…” She offered, sadly.

“That's what I am afraid of. Hunter didn’t know when I first applied which is why it got ignored. But when Rey came with the idea and pictures he knew and was on board. I am a Nepo baby, and when - not if - it gets out. I’m realistic, it will get out eventually and it is going to be so bad.” Nessa taps the table with her finger, other things still on her mind. “Other things are bugging you or you wouldn’t be here either. Let's take a break from me please.”

Danika hums, “Fair enough, uh, so… the biggest thing I’m dealing with is the fact that Shelton Benjamin is an absolute piece of shit and did this interview with Logan Paul, I think I mentioned he’s one of my best friends, either way he tried to like steer this whole narrative about how Demi and Luis are abusing us, and like…” She exhales sharply, Nessa grabs her hand to lend support, “So, the thing is, Fergie has barely accepted who we are to one another, let alone admit that he’s happy with us, and Vero, uh, Fergie’s soon to be ex-wife, has been on the warpath lately, so… both of them are pushing these shitty narratives about our dynamics, and I want to pitch this idea to Hunter and Scrap Daddy about me and Damo both being with Finn…”

“Well yes do it, I love that so much. OH yeah Scrap Daddy told me and Luis to be more affectionate on camera even though I just like started and we are barely just now dating but ok no problem. He held me and touched the butt on TV like your Jefe with Liv. And that is so gross about Shelton Benjamin, did the interview air? How are you going to deal with that?”

“So far Logan is holding the interview from airing, he wants us to talk about it and do an interview with him before it airs, if it ever airs, he might end up cutting snippets out of it, we aren’t sure. As far as dealing with it, next time I see that bastard I’m going to throw ring dust in his eyes.” She grinned violently, “The only other thing I’m panicking about is Buddy and Aalyah’s marriage, which I’m sure they will want me to plan.” She exhales bothered.

“Wedding planning is hard love, you do so much for everyone you need a break from what I hear from you.” Nessa nudges Danika’s side and sips her drink again.

“You know while I agree with you, I’m the only one of us with a formal manager, TJ Wilson - he’s married to Nattie, pretty sure in every single universe.” Danika grabs her own drink and sips it, “I have a vacation planned, I’m going to Dems in a couple weeks, then she’s going on to Australia with Jace and Lainey.” Danika offers. Then studying Nessa for a moment, she leaned over the paper to snag a black wrapped box, that was larger than the other two, and passed it to Nessa, “This is for Damo.” She grabs another cookie.

Nessa rips the paper off like a little kid and laughs seeing it is a replica of the 1960’s batmobile and that it is an RC car. “Oh he is going to love this. So, the plan is to go back with these gifts like I spent the time getting these ready for them because I can’t sneak all this back in the hotel room for a later date” Nessa halfway seriously asks, trying to control herself from opening the box and playing with the car. Their time is limited.

“I think we can probably play with the car a little bit, I’ve been dying to. I bought Luis one in my world, and it’s wrapped to give to him as a surprise. I mean, you can trade bags with me, I fit them all in my messenger bag?” Danika offers, unsure.

“I didn’t bring a bag, I literally ran out of the arena.” Nessa looks at her apologetically.

“Well shit.” Danika mutters, then looks toward the counter, “Maybe Tommy can help?” The man does not appear when summoned, “Maybe he’s like BeetleGuise and you have to say his name like three times? Chant it backwards, write it in blood, promise your first born-” Before she can get that out, he appears disgruntled, holding out a large brown paper bag with Tilted Dimensions across the front, “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” She sasses as she grabs it.

“Thank you Theta,” Nessa smiles at him and throws her arms up in success when he shushes her. “Take me with youuuuuu.” She whines and lays her head on the table as he walks away.

Danika snorts, hard. “Now about that ex?” She prompts, “I still have two more things for you.”

“It’s JD McDonough, we, uh, were together for a few years when we met at a live show I went to on a whim. As always it started out great but quickly went bad very bad. My saving grace was when he got signed to NXT in 2017 I refused to move with him because I found out I was pregnant and wanted to stay near my mom and with my job that had good benefits. That went about as well as you expect.” Nessa stares ahead, getting trapped in the memory, her hand resting on her stomach.

“I take it, the baby didn’t make it.” Danika’s voice is soft, “I lost a baby between the twins and Angel.” She offers, seriously, “It takes forever to heal, emotionally.” She adds, reflective, “And he’s in NXT in my world, actually semi-friendly with Fergal.”

Nessa comes back to the present with a hm before processing what Danika said. “Yeah, about a month after. I told him we were over, never told him about the baby and the distance helped. Dom, Dom really helped me with that, and the hospital mandated therapy. Sometimes it is still so raw but, I was, I am ready for the next chapter and to try with them. Finn, he was the most vocal in his defense when another woman spoke up, but I know Dom would never willingly associate with someone who is ok with that type of person. Finn apologized to me a few days after he found out who. The problem is JD has since been drafted to Raw with the rest of us. Which is why I am never alone.”

Danika tosses an arm around Nessa, snuggling into her, as she pushes the last two gifts at her, one is wrapped in some sort of Irish themed paper the other in deep purple. “I’m glad you found Dom. I’m glad you found your way back to Dom.” She amends, then, “I’m glad you found them, your Judgment Day.” Danika considers what Nessa said about Finn, before adding, “Fergie has changed so much in his time with us, I’m fairly sure he can’t stand the thought of AJ or JD anymore, but we haven’t had the chance to interact with JD, yet. I’m sure it won’t go well, you should talk to Hunter about him, I know it’s scary, but Hunter is one of the biggest protectors of the women's locker room, a part of me thinks it because of how dirty he treated Chyna towards the end, but I have no concrete proof.”

“I… I’m not exactly happy with him, but I think he knows and has a plan up his sleeve. We were in his office after the Zelina/Jefe incident and Damo brought it up and I kinda froze. Hunter then started sending a barrage of texts, some I assume to Nash, the rest to others. Now that I think about it the Usos and Roman have been lurking a lot as well as Ava and others in the locker room…” Nessa realizes as she speaks, “Ohhh he is laying a trap”

“Hunter finds his hands tied by the board a lot more than I think he wants them to be, but he’s clever, sneaky to a point, if he’s got a plan, then you have nothing to worry about. I don’t say this about many men, but you can trust him, and if you get a chance to know TJ, you can trust him too. The Bloodline tends to help me keep up with my kids on the road, not going to lie, Tio Roman is a fan favorite with my kids.”

“Roman is a sweetheart, so afraid of his cancer coming back is always up my ass for a checkup. And …. Fuck he knows about Nash!. Am I the last person to know…!” Nessa realizes when thinking about their past interactions. “He always asked about my dad and how my childhood was, I thought he was just curious. Sneaky fucker.”

“Roman Reigns is never just curious.” Danika snickers, “It’s good he has you, Nes.” Danika offers, with a smile, “Someone who can tell him and he trusts to keep it under wraps. I help him plan shit, from time to time. We sort of are angling for a tentative truce with them, so that’ll be fun kayfabe wise. As far as you being the last to know about your dad, I doubt it. Nash traveled with Kishi, uh Rikishi, Roman’s uncle, I’d imagine the Attitude Boys and Divas know, but the youngbloods and new kids probably don’t.”

“Well that makes sense.” Nessa comments and eats another cookie.

“Hey, not to one hundred degree change the topics, but you gotta open these and next time if you are more comfortable with your training I can teach you my finisher.” Danika smiles almost evilly.

“Oh I would love that… Please. I learned Zelina’s DDT. I can’t do the Riptide even if I tried.” Nessa agrees and opens the present clearly meant for Finn, inside is a lego set that both girls know he’s been looking for (he’d started looking in late 2018 and had yet to track it down, it is something he bemoans from time to time). The Old Trafford, Manchester United Stadium lego set in pristine condition in Nessa’s hands had to cost Danika a fortune, and if she was giving Nessa one, that meant Danika had found two. Nessa sits there shocked and in awe. “You didn’t have to do that, this is too much… shit.” Nessa forces out, guilt setting in that she didn’t bring anything for Danika, she was too in her feelings.

“From personal experience the RipTide is a bitch to take.” Danika for a moment looked traumatized, “I’m going to assume by your face that your Finn has also been after this.” Danika taps the box. “Hey, he really wants it, trust me. And I’m not trying to be mean, but judging by our previous discussion on job history, and money, I sort of… assumed that we could agree money isn’t an issue for me, and although this set is rather expensive, Finn in every world deserves it.” The way Danika says Finn’s name is twisted with love and a bit of bitter pain.

“Ok spill what is wrong with your Finn?” Nessa asks, hearing the twinge in Danika’s voice.

“My Fergie keeps running away. Like, we all told him how we felt about him - and it’s all of us, like Dom suggested we just hold him down and kiss him, but consent is sexy ok, so that obviously didn’t happen.” Danika frowned, “Vero really fucked his head up.” She settled on, “Or maybe all his previous relationships did, I don’t know. What I do know is he seems to think he is unlovable and broken, and just… bleah.” She whined, “Jefe keeps handing him Twizzlers like that will just make it all better, Dom likes those more than anything, but Finn keeps giving them to Dom and Liv - because apparently Finn likes red vines, and Dios, that was word vomit, oops.” Danika giggled awkwardly.

“My Dom likes them too, honestly they are a part of foreplay through aftercare with him.” Nessa smirks, enjoying the payback from earlier as Danika wrenches loudly, obviously bothered.

“Please never tell me what the Twizzlers do.” Danika dropped her forehead onto the table letting out an exasperated noise, “Ewwww. I’m never going to eat another Twizzler offered to me from Liv’s bra again.”

“Ohhh Twizzlers in a bra I’mma start doing that and eating them while I valet the matches!” Nessa exclaims, excited by the idea.

“Well they are never cold.” Danika offered, unbothered, still face down. “And you never know when you need a snack.” She adds, almost giggling, before raising up to look at Nessa again, “Open that one, it’s yours.” Nessa rips it open, tossing the paper behind her and seeing a small brown leather journal, “It’s a recipe book, I put some of everyones favorites in, and then some that I know other superstars like, since I do a bit of like a YouTube cooking channel, if you ever need to befriend Bianca, her favorite Japanese meal is in there.” Danika offers when Nessa doesn’t immediately say anything, “And you mentioned you liked to cook, I have uh, three of these, the journals come from Barnes and Noble…”

“Oh thank you, this is going to help so much!” Nessa starts flipping through the first couple pages and seeing annotations about who they are for and good times for the meals.

“I might have cornered Becky Lynch at some point to find out what Fergie’s favorite foods are, and I got Buddy and uh Bronson Reed - he’s a meatball, let me know when you’ve met him - to tell me normal Austrailian celebration dishes, and then I talked Zelina into giving me traditional Puerto Rican food, which was a whole issue because she hates me…” Danika offers, smiling softly.

“Well she can get over herself.” Nessa responds to the Zelina-comment.

“I get why she hates me, though.” Danika sighs, “She has this misconception that I’m appropriating culture.”

“How, you were literally adopted and raised in that… wow your Zelina had issues.”

“I don’t think she sees it as me being raised in the culture.” Danika shrugs, “I mean at some point we are going to have to talk about, especially with Creative pushing Edge toward re-starting the LWO, but… right now we sort of just avoid each other. I think she dislikes my relationship with Damian, too, but I don’t really get it, she isn’t throwing nearly as much heat behind the scenes at Demi who is publicly only dating a Latino, ahem Dominik, too.” Danika shrugs again, “My Zelina has a lot of issues, I’ll agree. I’m glad yours is better.”

“Mine is trying to teach me Spanish so I can speak it and not just understand it… but it isn’t sticking lol like I can’t pull the words from my brain to translate to spanish. But she is patient with that, not with training. She is kicking my ass but I am all the better for it.” Nessa bites into another cookie and continues talking while chewing to see Danika’s reaction.

“It is admittedly hard to learn a language the older you get. Picking up Japanese when I was seventeen was a bitch. Oh, did your Luis do Ring of Honor too? If so, he totally knows Japanese…” Danika smiles warmly, then adds, “I could suggest some tricks for picking up the Spanish so you're more fluent?” Danika thinks for a moment, “So, uh this next question is hopefully not going to be super disrespectful… So when I joined the Gutiérrez family I was questionably Southern Baptist, naturally I converted to Catholicisim, specifically the Americanized version of Roman Catholicism… with Nash as your father… like isn’t Judisim passed through the parents, like don’t both your parents have to be Jewish for you to be considered… I dunno, worthy? Are you still allowed to be Jewish?” The last little bit comes out in a rush, Danika likes knowing more about different religions in general, but her upbringing (in both households) has left her with a bit less time to study them.

“Oh it doesn’t matter who the father is, it's all to do with the mother. If the mother is Jewish then so is the child. Is the simplest way to describe it. Next time I can explain more since we have more things to cover right now” Nessa waves her hand dismissively.

Danika shoots her a relieved smile, glad that her lack of knowledge didn’t blunder their friendship, considering she’d already sort of been bad. “That’s good. I lowkey can’t wait to hear about you and Nash bonding.” Nessa looks at her warily,

“I don’t know about that. He had a lot of time to come forward after the divorce like I said. And 8 years after I turned 18. I don’t know how much bonding we can really do… Do you think when we have kids I can raise them Jewish at the very least teach them of their heritage. I know Dom, Luis and Finn are catholic and Rhea is Christian oh this is gonna be a problem isn’t it.” Nessa plops her head down on the table repeatedly, the thunking filling the small cafe.

“Uh, my Dems is Catholic coded, but - I don’t think you will have a problem.” Danika waves her off, “Let me see, when Dom and I had the twins, we did traditional familia names from his side of the family, but but he let me have them both baptized in the Catholic way and the Southern Baptist way, no offense to the Catholics, I’m not sure what throwing some Holy Water at an infant does, best to just dunk them completely under and wash the sins of the parents off early…” She mutters the last part, sounding a bit like Angie and Rey. Shaking her head she adds, “I don’t know how much you know about Nash’s son, the one he lost, but Tristian struggled with Alcoholism, during his sobriety journey, which… I might be off a bit but probably a lot of that after you were eighteen time, Nash was focused on getting his son sober, and the sobriety fucking killed him, like it was a seizure brought on by his body pushing back on the lack of alcohol.” Danika explains evenly, “Rey, my Rey, was so broken open, for him, we all prayed for Kev and his wife, Tamara.”

“So you mean to say I’ve lost both brothers to drugs and alcohol then, and I guess I get it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. My whole world has been turned upside down, and what if this gets out… I’m supposed to have my first match soonish…..” Another look of realization crosses Nessa’s face, “Son of a Bitch”.

“Which son of a bitch are we cursing now, beebs?” Danika grabs for another cookie. “If it’s Tio Adam, er, Edge, then we can curse him and wish for a child to be named after him in the Jewish sense, not the Catholic sense.”

“No it's Cody’s ass, he knew and before his match with Finn came up to me and said that we, this new generation needs to stick together. He fucking knows and gave me his and his wifes number.” Nessa explains.

“Oh, I’d been meaning to ask if you’d met Cody. He trained me at the Nightmare Factory.” Danika beams for a moment, then, “Dusty knew Kev, so does Dustin - Cody’s older brother, they are pretty tight even with Dustin in AEW.” Danika offers, “So Cody probably thought you knew by the sounds of it. Him and Brandi are good people, you should know I’m biased because our kids are friends, but they both love wrestling, and both are very devoted to the children of past Wrestlers.”

Nessa sips her tea, “Well I think it is clear to him now I didn’t know, we, that being our lovely idiots jokes about my dad not being my dad and mom having some explaining to do.” Nessa sighs heavily. “I have to talk to Kevin don’t I?”

“Not to be that person, but yeah, you absolutely do. Nessa Nash has a hell of a ring to it. I mean, as far as ring names. It’s probably cooler than Danika Mysterio.” Danika offers, attempting to cheer her up, “And as far as having a parent in the business, Nash is probably one of the better ones. He got his life sorted, and together. He’s not… he’s not a bad man.” Danika offers, reassuringly, “If anything, he’s been misunderstood for a long time. It could frankly be worse, could you imagine being the love child of Chyna and Hunter? The Industry wouldn’t know how to handle that, just… trust the other legacies, they can guide you through how to be a legacy without being super Charolett about it, or like Cody about it where he’s obsessively in love with his father’s fame to the point he wants to finish his father’s story.” Danika thinks for a moment, “Maybe don’t trust Edge though, he likes stepping on legacies to get what he wants, other than recent stuff, just the whole fake-married-to-Vickie-Guerrero bit after Eddie’s death should be enough warning.” Danika devours her cookie with a sad look.

“Well I’ve not had a run in with him thankfully. I guess after Raw I’ll meet up with Kevin with one of the group, maybe Dom. I need someone who isn’t really close to him to be my support and the way you describe Luis and Kevin's relationship makes me worried Luis will try to push a bond. Dom would be squarely on my side that I know. But wouldn’t Luis be hurt if I didn't choose him? As for the other legacies, I think I will, we know Roman knows and already supports me… the bastard, and I guess I'll do that.”

“Dom is your best bet, Demi is a huge fan of Nash, and Fergie is friendly with him, they’ve worked together in the past.” Danika thinks about her question in regards to Luis, “I think Luis would ultimately understand, you just have to be open and explain it to him - you aren’t sure if you're ready to have a real relationship with Nash, and you don’t want Luis to be negatively impacted if something goes wrong between the pair of you. If Roman knows about your relationship to Nash you can bet the twins and Solo do too, so don’t let that catch you off guard, and probably Heyman as well.” Danika reminds.

“Well I know the twins know, they were dropping hints when I did their checkups before Backlash. I honestly think all the legacies know or figured it out…”

“They too are about as subtle as a brick to the face.” Danika hums. “No one really talks about this outside of the Industry but there are two classes of wrestlers, born wrestlers like the legacies who tell each other everything even if they don’t like each other and those who fought their way in. Through adoption I get the legacy flag, just like you get it through Nash. There is a division, and it sucks, no matter how hard you try to shake it off, but you're probably right. One legacy knows, and they all do, and their spouses.” Danika offers, sadly, “So, quick question, our worlds tend to be similar enough, how bad is it when Edge restarts the LWO, like is Rey heartbroken? Does Chavo Guerrero have shit to say? How does Dominik handle it?”

“Oh Jefe started it after Dom betrayed him, Dom is hurt and Edge is MIA since Wrestlemania. Chavo from what I hear is not happy with it either. And he has been in constant contact with Dom.” Nessa starts fiddling with the plate of cookies, unsure if she wants to grab another.

“I’m sorry, fucking what? Rey hated LWO when he was bullied into it the first time, why in the fucking world would he have restarted what he saw as a discrimination group against most wrestlers, that were by and large the answer to NWO without ever being able to handle the fucking…” Danika’s rant tapers off, and is replaced by a bit of giggling. “Oh god…” She trails off, “Chavo must be pissed in your world, he always felt like Eddie replaced him with Rey, and your Rey just fucking…” Danika’s laughter is getting louder and louder, sides shaking a bit, “That is… that is so… Oh I wish I could tell the others.” She finishes, giggling harder. Nessa can’t help it but starts giggling as well at how absurd it all is.

“I pray Jefe comes around, if he doesn’t it will just Kill Dom.” Nessa softly says out loud once the giggles die down.

“Dominik is a lot stronger than most people give him credit for, we both know that. My Dominik had to discover that his real father was Eddie, that Angie cheated on Rey, and that Angie blamed Rey for her infidelity, and that her hatred of one act of perceived kindness from Eddie has now caused her to regret Dominik… Your Rey, while a bastard, doesn’t sound like he’s taken it to that level, just yet. Even with him being worried about your marks, he’s still Jefe, still trying to protect, he just can’t understand yet.” Danika, sobering up from her giggles, admits, “Rey wants to restart the Filthy Animals, as a secondary stable to our Judgment Day, his own nod to Konnan.”

“I wish I had your Jefe,” Nessa groans, “I could tell him and not Angie that I am getting my IUD out.”

“Oh, Madre is gonna want them babies.” Danika teases.

“She is already harassing us about it, and Benito. Hunter dropped hints as well. LIke damn give us some time to figure things out please. I may have had sex with Dom but I don’t think we are back to that… yet…”

“When the time is right, the time is right.” Danika shrugs her shoulders, “Angie was livid when Dominik and I first got pregnant. She wanted us to get married. Not happening, we both agreed we wanted to marry for love, and now that we are a polycule like… marriage is hard.”

“Marriage is hard normally, I think it is hilarious we are talking about kids and not marriage, but something might come up in the future. You know, thank you for making me feel better, I feel more grounded. Who knows maybe next time I will be pregnant…” Nessa jokes, the wish clearly in her voice.

“I will do my solid best to bring Angel next time I see this place, so you can cuddle a half Dominik baby.” Danika promises. “And if you want to be pregnant, then do it, your career isn’t wrestling, you told me that yourself. With women like Maryse getting storylines while pregnant I’m sure you can too.” Danika adds, “In my AEW contract, and my WWE contract, I have a stipulation that guarantees if I am injured or otherwise unable to compete I get to be a manager or I get to be an assistant to the GM.” She flashes a predatory smile, “I worked my ass off to get those assurances.”

“That is a good idea, I think I am going to read over my contract again. Knowing Jefe he might have done something like that knowing him and Ma.” Nessa taps her chin.

“The caveat to that, for me anyways, is that I don’t get to have a creative say in my hair or clothing or my characterization.” Danika shrugs.

“Yet I have that for the most part. I’m just lucky I'm in a story with Luis and we are all actually together. Like last Monday in kayfabe, Benito called me a whore after hitting me with the kendo stick. Poor thing felt so bad after and then proceeded to harass me for nieces and nephews again.” Nessa hums thinking, before adding, “Apparently we are going for a love square between me, Dems, Dom and Damo. I don’t think that will work… Oh shit yeah we just blew past your Finn problems. Honestly you might just have to sit him down and go hey we love you like we love each other and just reiterate how much you love him and that he is worthy. It's like the negative you hear it enough you believe it but this time with positives” Nessa glances at the clock, frowning as she realizes that time has gotten away from them again and they have less than ten minutes until the hour is up.

“I wish I could say we hadn’t already thought about that in the case of Fergie.” Danika tracked Nessa’s gaze, and sighed, “Ten minute warning, huh, doesn’t Tommy normally-” Her sentence trailed off as the man himself reappeared from the back with new drinks for them both, a bag for Nessa, and two different delicately wrapped pastry boxes. “Hey, Sergeant Tom, while I’ve got you here,” Danika snagged his wrist, batting her lashes up at him, “Next time, instead of a kitchen back there, think we can have a wrestling ring?”

The man gave her an exasperated look, “Contrary to you're believes, Ms. Danika, this is not the Room of Requirement, from Harry Potter.” That made Danika snort, “However, there are things that… just like myself, will appear when they are needed.” He gave her a wink, before he looked to Nessa, “I hope you enjoyed your visit, Ms. Nessa.” With that he wiggled out of Danika’s grip and headed for the back.

“You know, I still don’t know if he’s the TARDIS or if this building is the TARDIS…” Danika mumbled under her breath, before sliding out of the bench seat, she’d slid into so she could hug Nessa, she stretched her arms above her head, before moving to lean against the opposite side of the booth, stretching again, popping her back and shoulders before rolling her neck just right, the crackling noises made her grin and hum contentedly before she slid into her side of the booth again, “So, now we have eight minutes.” She offers, looking at her watch, “I don’t think goodbyes are going to get any easier.”

"No, I don't think so. I wish we existed in the same universe so we didn't have to meet only when things go to shit. I think when I get back to the hotel I'll tell them as a group about Kev." Nessa looks at Danika sadly.

Danika tried to give her a reassuring smile, “I’m sure Kevin Nash won’t be the hurdle you think he is. I’ll talk with the others and figure out how to prove to Finn that we love him, and want him for more than just sex… although I imagine the sex is going to be delicious…” Danika trails off, clearly thinking about Finn, his abs, and the implications of getting him naked in her bed.

"OH THAT REMINDS ME!" Nessa startles the other woman with her shout, making Danika shrink away, her hands instinctively coming up to her ears, it’s the first time Nessa has seen any of the scars she assumed Danika had from her upbringing, frankly it's a different sort of unsettling with how Danika presents herself, charismatic and larger than life. Nessa blushes and continues this time quieter, "So they came back after Dom and I did the bing bing and of course Damo was pouty. But Dems said we both want her under us soon and Finn said all of us."

Danika relaxes and rolls her eyes, “Who wouldn’t want one of us in their beds, honestly. We are a whole meal… Did you just call sex bing bing?” A smile pulls at her lips, before she’s giggling again, “Bing bing… That is… you're my official favorite human.”

Nessa blushes harder at the praise and tries to defend herself,"it's less vulgar than the other words and .. well… shut up" Nessa tries to hide her face, even though the older of the two it’s clear she’s more modest and respectful about certain things.

Danika snickers hard, “Vulgar is a fun word,” Then adds, “I’m not sure what our idiots call it, but unless they are being romantic about it, I think we universally just call it fucking around. Not important, we are running out of time.” Danika pouts, “So, you are headed back to the hotel and are going to talk to your idiots about Nash - I’m going back to Ohio to talk convince Fergie that we really do love him, and then I’m going to squish Shelton Benjamin and Vero Rodriguez under my killer heels.” She wiggled her eyebrows elaborately, and pretended to squish the napkin on the table with her fist.

"Yes and I'll keep the boys from catching a case on JD as well. Now that I think about itIi have to add Kevin to that list…" Nessa realizes as Danika nods along empathetically - over protective father figures can be the worst, even if they are only doing what their hearts demand.

Tommy cleared his throat from behind the counter, “Not to rush you ladies, but…” He tapped the clock ticking on the counter, they had under three minutes.

“And yet you will.” Danika levels him with a rather unimpressed look, before sliding out of her side of the booth, grabbing her bag, and moving to help Nessa stack all of her gifts together so they can muscle them into the large bag Tommy had brought Nessa, settling the box of pastries on top of the gifts. “So… obviously, we needn’t try to find this place, it finds us.” She offers meekly. Tears sting at her eyes, she’s never been particularly good at goodbyes.

"Hey Tommy, will it find us for good stuff too, not just the bad?" Nessa asks, tears pricking her eyes as well, pulling Danika into a tight hug. Danika hugs back just as tightly, squishing her face into Nessa’s neck, the older girl taller than her this time.

Tommy smirks, “That is completely up to the pair of you, and what your hearts need.” He taps the clock again, the minute ticking down. “Go on now.” He offers a bit sternly.

"I'll go first since I got here first," Nessa offers walking to the door, sadly not wanting to leave her friend. Danika watches her push out, and disappear from the front view of the coffee shop, for all intents and purposes, Nessa is now lost to her until the universes collide again.

“Hey, Tommy, what happens if we…” Danika turns to find him gone, “For fucksake, someone someday is going to answer the question: what happens if we leave together.” She huffs, before slamming out the door herself, scarf kicking up around her shoulders.

-/- Nessa deflates as she steps onto the sidewalk and turns around, the coffee shop no longer there, in its place was a plain brick wall. The street is abandoned save for a few people walking the opposite way down the street. She is thankful the street is well lit and she can see the hotel just a block away. She checks her phone to see only one missed call and a text from each of her partners responding to her initial text asking for some time alone to walk. She sends a quick message to the group chat, “We need to talk about Hunter just told me, I’m almost back.” sending that message opened the floodgates and her phone blew up with messages asking if she was ok and what happened to make her run out of the arena. She hugs the strap of the bag closer to herself, careful to not crush the pastries that she is going to use to bribe the others, ducking her head a bit as she takes off walking.

-/-

A light dusting of snow has landed on the sidewalk as Danika presses back out into the crisp air. She cradles the pastries closer to her chest, before taking a few steps away from the ringing bell. She looks back, amused to see that Tilted Dimensions has vanished, in its place a stone gray painted building sat vacant with a For Sale sign tacked on the window. She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from her lips as she makes her way back to the travel bus, darting across traffic, more than eager to meet Kevin Nash now. He might not have a daughter in this universe, but she and her kids could fill in some of the holes in his heart - if he’d let her. Her heart turned sad at the thought of Finn’s little broken gaze lately, shaking the thought from her head, Nessa was right, they (Luis, Demi, Dom, and her) had to fight for him, he was more than worth it.

-/-

Nessa enters the front lobby of the hotel and goes straight to the receptionist, a sheepish look on her face.

“Excuse me miss. I’m sorry but I lost my card to my room 512, booked under the name Martinez.” Nessa informs the young woman behind the counter. The young woman with the name tag Taylor, tosses her bright red hair behind her shoulder and giggles.

“Not the first wrestler to lose their card tonight. Here you go” She activates a new card and slides it over. Nessa thankfully grabs it and holds it in her hand, her other one still holding the box of pastries. She goes to the stairs wanting to delay as much as possible not wanting to have this conversation. Five minutes later she is in front of the hotel room she shares with her partners trying to ready herself for the fussing that is about to come and the answers she is about to give. She swipes the key card and enters the room, averting her gaze and closing the door behind her. There is a silence in the room, everyone waiting for Nessa’s lead. She heads over to the bed where Dominik is sitting next to Rhea, Finn and Damian sitting opposite them. Nessa sits beside dominik, resting the messenger bag in her lap, the box of pastries on top. Her gaze still staring at the brown carpet of the hotel.

Rhea clears her throat, deciding to break the silence, “We are glad you are safe. Your text earlier worried us. Now will you tell us what had you rushing out of the arena alone at night in an unfamiliar place where you can’t really speak the language?” Rhea softly chides, her worry showing through her voice and Nessa looks up, her hands trembling as she holds out the pastry box. Rhea reaches over Dominik and grabs the box, placing it on the bed beside her. Dominik grabbing Nessa’s hand, rubbing circles into the back of it. Nessa swallows thickly, the knot in her stomach reforming.

“Uh,... I… Uh. Hunter had Kevin in the office… He uh…” Nessa sighs, slumping against Dominik, struggling to find the words.

“Did you get fined?” Finn asks, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Nessa shakes her head. “No, uh Kevin needed to talk with me….. Um… I… The betting board was right….” Nessa manages to get out, hoping they catch on quickly.

“The betting…. OH… OH A Chroí i am so sorry.” Finn realizes first and slides off the bed getting to his knees in front of Nessa, resting his hands on her knees, squeezing them to try to offer some comfort.

“What, that you are secretly a…. Oh that isn’t what had the most tallys when we went in” Damian begins to joke, the realization making his heart break for Nessa. Seeing her in such turmoil and being unable to help making him feel so useless.

“He uh, Kevin… he is…” Nessa stutters, struggling more to tell her partners, people she loves than when she told Danika. With Danika it didn’t feel so real but to say it out loud now makes it all too real.

“Kevin is what, what about the betting board?” Dominik asks, clearly confused. “Dom” Rhea softly calls his name, her tone telling him to stop. Nessa takes a deep shaky breath and swallows again.

“Kevinnashismyfatherandidontknowhowtohandlethis” Nessa blurts out, staring at the wall behind Damian and squeezing Dominiks hand a little harder. Finn gently grabs Nessa’s face to have her look at him, his eyes scanning her face.

“Say that again but slower. We don’t know how to help you if we don’t know what is wrong.” Finn soothes, his accent helping ground Nessa who nods her head, his hands following the movements as they are resting on her cheeks.

“The locker room was right, my mother… had a relationship with Kevin Nash who is my father and I don’t know how to process this” Nessa sniffles. Finn uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears that escaped before standing up, pulling Nessa up momentarily and taking her spot on the bed and pulling her onto his lap. Her messenger bag placed back on her lap.

“First Nes, I think you should talk to your mother, explain what you were told and get her side. I’m sure she has a good …” Rhea begins to try to defend Nessa’s mother but Nessa interrupts her.

“She did, he was an abusive asshole to her and then to me up until she left him. Just my luck i fell into a similar situation before Dom.” Dominik squeezes her hand and gives her a soft smile when she glances over at him. She continues on, telling them what Kevin told her before she ran out of the arena. Nessa fiddles with the flap of the bag waiting on their reactions, glancing at their faces which are a mix of pity and understanding and curiosity. Damian who is still sitting opposite Nessa is the first to speak again.

“I still think it is a good idea to talk to your mother, she would have some good insight as to what you should do next and maybe why he just now told you at 26. I also think that you should talk to Kevin. By the sounds of it you ran out of the arena without hearing him out.” Damian offers his thoughts and grabs Nessa’s hand, his chest tightening at the betrayed look she is giving him.

“I know you are close to him and look up to him and can offer me insight to him as a person but he just dropped the bomb, no lead up, flipping everything I know about my life on its head. I need you on my side in this to help me, not to push what might help someone else.” Nessa explains, trying to pull her hand back from Damian but he won’t let go. He sighs and takes a moment to collect his thoughts before responding,

“I am on your side in this, we all are and want what is best for you. I think we can all agree that at least talking to him, hearing him out once you have had time to calm down and think it through yourself will help you decide how to go forward. I promise you I will not push you to something you don’t want. If you say no the topic is dropped. I’ll even offer this Mariposa, Dom is clearly your comfort, your person, your safe space. Take him when you talk to Kev.” Damian offers, pulling her hand to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Nessa lets out a sigh of relief,

“Thats what my friend Danika thought I should do. Get your insight on Kevin and take Dom when I talk to him. Oh she also helped me find some gifts for you guys, well for me and you.” Nessa takes both her hands back, wiping the snot from under her nose and flipping the flap of the bag over. She pulls out Rhea’s shirt first handing it to her. “This is a loan of sorts, I promised we would share this shirt with her, but she figured you’d appreciate seeing it again. She is a big fan of yours” Nessa winks at Rhea who takes the shirt so gingerly Nessa thinks Rhea is afraid to rip the shirt. Treating it like a delicate antique.

“Well when you see her next thank her for me. This is actually very sweet.” Rhea smiles, setting the shirt on the bed, all of them watching what Nessa will pull out next. She pulls out the replica batman car and hands it to Damian, Finn eyeing it with Jealousy.

“Thank you Mariposa, and thank Danika whoever she is. Also, please understand if you don’t want to talk to him that is your decision and I will support it.” Damian promises, setting the box on the bed beside him, keeping a hand on the box. Nessa sighs and rests her hands on top of the messenger bag and looks Damian in his eyes.

“Damian, I know you will support it on the surface, but deep down you would want me to talk to him and at least have some sort of relationship with him. I know that you see him as a type of father figure, at least in the industry. And that is ok Luis. But thank you for trying to push your feelings aside for this.” Nessa softly calls him out but her tone holds no malice, only understanding. Damian relaxes seeing Nessa isn’t upset with him just the situation. Nessa clears her throat and gets off of Finns lap and reaches into the bag again this time pulling out the lego set and handing it to Finn whose eyes light up.

“Oh this is way better than the batmobile thank you, i’ve been looking for this everywhere! You have to tell me how much this cost your friend so i can pay her back it must have cost a fortune.” Finn turns the box over in his hands, looking like a kid at christmas and glancing at Nessa.

“She said there will be no payback. Money is no issue for her and she wanted to do something nice for her friend by treating her partners. She is the only other person I know in a relationship like ours so she is really helping me navigate things.” Nessa explains, her hand in the bag, the picture in her gentle grip, knowing this next one will be bittersweet.

“Dom, this one I don’t know how she found it but she has connections and called in a favor with a distant family member.” Nessa explains pulling out the photo of him and Eddie and handing it to him. “She thought you should have it.” Dominik takes the picture in one hand, the other tracing around Eddies figure, tears welling up in his eyes before spilling over. The grief of missing him coming to the surface. Rhea wraps both arms around him, pulling him to her chest and running her fingers through his hair. “Eddie would be so proud of the man you have become.” Nessa sits back down this time next to Dominik, resting her head on his back, wrapping her arms around around them while they allow Dominik to cry, getting out his hurt and pain of missing is Tio Eddie.

“He would be so mad at how I am treating my dad” Dominik sniffles and Nessa scoffs as does Damian.

“He would be pissed at what Oscar has done to you and Nes. Would have whooped his ass over it actually.” Damian points out, lightly tapping Dominiks foot with his own. “He also would have dragged you back to Nessa by your ear and pulled both of you to a chapel to get married.”

“I don’t know how he would have taken this” Dominik gestures between all of them and Nessa giggles. “A little of oscar, a little of pride and I think he would have accepted us like your mom did” The others making noises of agreement. Bringing up Angie brought another thought to her head that she tables for later, knowing this moment is not the time to bring it up.

“Look, it’s late and we have had a very taxing day and we have to catch a flight super early tomorrow to be in Florida so we can stay at Dems before Raw. So lets go to bed. Things will be better in the morning after we sleep.” Damian suggests, parroting something his mother told him throughout his childhood that rarely failed. No one disagrees, but no one makes a move from where they are sitting, Dominik still sandwiched between Rhea and Nessa, holding the picture of him and Eddie. Finn caressing the box of Legos and Damian looking at the four of them with a mixture of adoration and annoyance, yet again he is going to have to be the adult.

“Get ready for bed, Now” He orders, putting more timbre in his voice which gets the others moving, scattering around the room like cockroaches, grumbling about him Domming them until he clears his throat and they continue in silence not wanting to earn a punishment that night.

#dominik mysterio fanfiction #the judgment day fanfic #damian priest fanfic #finn balor fanfiction #rhea ripley fanfiction #poly judgement day

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badtasteaquarium · 3 days ago

Text

[A] coffee date

Amy Rose was late. It took her too long to decide what she was going to wear before going out. What was his taste? Surely she could closet some of the skin tight faux leather tops and fishnets that Scourge so often admired on her. But, if she wore some of her old dresses, she couldn't take out her motorcycle. Who was she, anyway? And why did she keep basing her opinions on people she liked? Loved? Wanted to impress?

In the end, after twenty extra minutes of rifling through her closet, her dresser, outfits tossed on her bed, she decided on a white retro short sleeved blouse, adorned with red polka dots. Black jeans, that was easy. Her old red headband would be a good accessory. Oh, but her makeup...Scourge appreciated the heavy eyeliner and caked on foundation, but it made her break out, which only reinforced the habit...okay then, just some winged eyeliner, some concealer here and there. A lipstick? Her lips looked awfully pale. But, by then, it was another ten minutes, and she still needed to get over to Central City.

So, she hastily popped a natural shade in her purse, grabbed her leather jacket, and blasted down the stairs of her apartment to hop on her motorcycle. She was able to earn back some time by weaving through traffic on the ocean-side speedway, praying that she didn't pass a cop on the way through. She was not yet close enough with her new boyfriend (was he her boyfriend yet?) to have him waive a ticket. Could he even? He technically was not a cop, but he was military. GUN special ops, as it was.

And to top it all off, there was hardly any parking near the coffee shop they picked out to meet, so she had to park on a corner where her back tire was just past the "NO PARKING HERE TO CORNER" sign. That was a ticket she could budget for, if necessary. Better than how much it cost for a garage in the area, even for an hour.

Amy breathlessly burst into the shop, breaking the soothing sort of quiet that permeated it. The barista's eyes turned to her, but then quickly went back to their business. Amy allowed the mellow jazz to calm her breathing and heartbeat for just a moment, before finding Shadow sitting by the window, a coffee mug already in front of him.

She darted over and plopped down, immediately stripping off her jacket. "I'm so sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed. "I couldn't decide what to wear..."

Belatedly, she realized that this was such a trite, feminine excuse, and her face burned from it. However, Shadow merely shook his head with a subtle, affectionate smile. "It is fine," he replied. "I am in no hurry."

Reassured, Amy struggled to take deep, measured breaths. "I bet it must drive you crazy when people are late though," she replied. "I-I mean, you have a computer in your brain..."

Shadow tilted his head with a crooked eyebrow. "While I do have an acute awareness of such things, even down to fractions of a second," he said, voice dripping with amusement, "I can ignore it. I had to learn to, once I became aware of it."

He chuckled under his breath, then nodded. "Why don't you get something to drink for yourself?" he suggested.

"Oh! Right," Amy chirped. She turned in her chair back toward the menu, skimming it over. "Hmm, what's good..."

"I hear they make a mocha latte that is 'to die for', according to Rouge," Shadow said. "Though I prefer simpler options."

"I'll find something," she replied, and walked over to the counter.

Amy ordered herself a flat white, and fell into her own thoughts as she waited for it to be prepared. Part of me thought that our little...encounter was going to just be a one night stand. After he basically apprehended my deadbeat now ex-not-boyfriend and drove me home. Though it would be strange, wouldn't it? I can't believe I didn't recognize him on site, after all that craziness on the Space Colony ARK.

He's still just as distinctive then as he is now.

She glanced over her shoulder at him--she did not meet his eye, as he was watching out the window. He's not in uniform today, she observed. Indeed, he had his own leather jacket draped over the seat, still with a fur collar, like his modified GUN jacket. He wore an open black button down with a slim fitting black t-shirt underneath. Black slim jeans...black boots...black gloves sticking out of his back pocket...

(The Chaos Emerald sparkled in her hand. It was prickly to hold, given the energy radiating from it. Its red glow warmed the dark night around her.

It was a close race, but she had won, and the prize was hers.

Second place was a rider all in black, and he would not remove his helmet even when he approached her in silence. The high of the race lingered with her, and she clutched the Emerald close to her chest. "What do you want? I won fair and square, the Emerald's mine," she said, trying to puff herself up to look bigger than she was.

He did not move, only slowly holding out his hand. They were alone in the street now, and even as she edged back toward her cooling motorcycle, he stepped toward her. "Hey I-I...I need to get this back to my friends. It's my prize." Her confidence was beginning to falter. She wondered if she could do that little trick...Chaos Control, was it? She had never tried. Amy never had many opportunities to hold a Chaos Emerald before.

But then, the dark rider spoke. A deep and smooth baritone. "Please," he said, "I need that Chaos Emerald."

He reached out again, and her hair began to raise on end from the static electricity. In awe, she loosened her grip, and the Emerald began to glow brighter.

In response, two dim, red pinpricks of light shined through the visor of the dark rider's helmet...)

"Flat white for Amy?"

Jerked out of her thoughts, she slammed her palm down on the counter. "Hi! Here, sorry!" she squeaked, grabbing the paper cup from the counter. "Thank you!"

She rushed back to her seat and sat back down with a thud. "Hey! You! I remembered something else!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him.

Shadow blinked and shook his head. "Oh?"

"It was you a couple years ago, wasn't it? That street race in Westopolis for the Chaos Emerald? You were the dark rider with the stolen military bike!"

He opened and closed his mouth, and then gently pushed her hand back. "That bike was not stolen, and please, keep your voice down," he advised.

"Oh! Right, sorry." Amy ducked her shoulders and sipped at the the top of her drink. "But it was you, wasn't it? Of course it was! That makes SO much more sense."

"Indeed, I was there. GUN was going to investigate it regardless--not necessarily to take it for themselves, but to ensure it went to the right hands. I had my own motivations." He took another sip of his coffee. "I did not expect to see you of all people there. My memories had not returned completely, but once I resonated with the Emerald, I remembered you."

"Wow," she breathed. "Wait, you lost your memories? Again?"

"I was essentially being preserved in either stasis or a freezer for the better part of five years. It should not be surprising that I did not retain a majority of my memories. Plus, I had been fitted with a new hard drive with its own memory banks, and I was still adjusting."

"Got it," Amy said, leaning back in her chair. "So, back then, you were collecting the Emeralds...to regain your memories again?"

"Precisely. And I regained more than that, as you can see," Shadow said. "Chaos Energy is...a force of nature; it can be wielded, but never truly controlled, or predicted. And yet, it synergizes with me, even with this hybrid-mechanical body."

That must be why Sonic resonates with the Emeralds so well, Amy thought idly, he's also a force of nature...never truly controlled.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy noticed that Shadow was beginning to fidget, looking down pointedly at his coffee. "I...trust you enjoyed our evening together," he began, every word measured. "Otherwise, we would not be gathering here."

"Oh! Oh yes, of course," Amy chirped. "It was...I had a great time. Um, better than I've had in a while, actually."

Shadow found the courage to meet her eyes, and offered her a smile. "I am glad to hear that," he said. "Not to impose, but if there is a next time, I promise to be...more prepared."

Amy recalled his lack of lower hardware, and how they had to improvise. How she grinded against his thigh and rubbed his featureless crotch until they both came at once. She repressed a shudder. Still, she strengthened her resolve--if this was a rebound, she wasn't going to let it just be a series of hookups. She wanted to be courted. Shadow seemed the type to do such a thing, but her pride enforced her to insist upon it.

"Whenever next time is," she said, with a coy giggle. "Um, do you usually...? I mean, are you...usually...prepared? Or..."

Shadow glanced around, then folded his hands together on the table. "What you witnessed the other night was the module 4096-X. I had my fluids cycled earlier that day, which requires me to be not only naked, but disassembled. While the team that assists with that endeavor are all professionals, it does make it easier on my dignity."

"What do you mean...your fluids?" Amy asked. "Like, your blood?"

"I suppose you can think of it that way. It is sort of an artificial blood, that my Chaos Drives can resynthesize into lubricant, or any other matter my body may need. It also helps preserve what is left of my original DNA and fluids, which cannot be cycled in the same fashion."

Amy nodded.

"But, on any normal day, I am equipped with the 4096-M module," he continued. "I think now it would have been named differently, but I am sure you can extrapolate."

"Differently?" "M"...if "X" is nothing, then "M"...must stand for "male". Ah, maybe "P" for "penis" instead? "Oh, right."

He hummed as she agreed, then sighed. "But, enough about that," he said. "I am glad to see you are doing well, after all these years. You seem more self-assured."

Amy beamed in spite of herself. "Oh! Ah, thanks," she replied. "It's been quite a journey, that's for sure!"

"I am curious to ask how you became interested in motorcycles," Shadow asked.

"I dunno, it just sort of...happened," she said. "After Sonic and I tried dating then broke up, I envied him for just being able to pick up and go like he does. I felt so stuck. Like I was wearing a hole in the ground from running in circles." She tilted her head. "I guess it all came together when this group of bikers were passing through Station Square. Big, Cream and I were on our way home from a night out, and we saw all of their motorcycles parked out front...and it wasn't just guys, it was girls too...and like..."

She trailed off. "Something clicked. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be free. So, I just did it. I bought a bike, I learned to ride, joined the Babylon Rogues for a bit, toured the islands...then went and did my own thing, then got caught up in Scourge's crowd..."

Her eyes widened. "Oh no. I basically fell off the face of the earth to a lot of people." She pulled out her phone and opened up her text messaging app. She skimmed through. "I haven't gotten a hold of Big or Cream in weeks!"

"Your friends?" Shadow asked to clarify.

"Yes! From before..." I made new friends, and a lot of them, but my old friends are important too...hell, it's been a while since I've visited Knuckles at the island, let alone the four of us hanging out there. Sonic, Tails...

"I am sure they would appreciate a call, no matter how long it has been," he said. "You would be surprised at how easy it is to pick up where one left off." He smiled to himself and glanced out the window. "I was able to reunite with someone I loved very much after my realization was complete. Despite it being many years, it was as if no time had passed at all. Maria had grown up, as had I, but we were...it was like old times."

"Aww," Amy said. "Maria...that name sounds familiar."

"She was the someone I had made a promise to, on the ARK," Shadow explained. "I thought she had died--or maybe the professor had altered my memories to convince me of it. She was captured and quarantined until she became an adult after the raid on the ARK. Afterwards, she pursued a doctorate, completely funded by GUN as an apology, and eventually was put on my project for research and maintenance."

"That's incredible," Amy said. "Who knew you guys would be reunited like that!"

Shadow's smile faded, and he continued to stare out the window. "You ought to know that we were engaged to be married," he said, his voice dropping.

"Oh." The temperature of the room seemed to drop as well. "Um...I'm sorry, did...something happen?"

Shadow allowed the question to hang in the air for a moment, his eyelids lowered. "Maria had an autoimmune disease, one that was able to be put in remission thanks to...well, thanks to me. Her treatment was made with my DNA. However, her immune system remained fairly weak, and her disease ended up progressing as an adult. By that time, a treatment based on my DNA could no longer be cultivated--I was mostly machine, and could not sacrifice what was left of my organics." He sighed heavily. "I would have done it, though, for her. That was the purpose for which I was created--a labor of love from a grandfather to his granddaughter, so that she might live a normal life on this planet."

Shadow shook his head. "Even when we got engaged, she knew her health was failing--she had already gotten a prognosis. She wanted what was left of our time together to be filled with happiness, and not the rapidly approaching end. And I did cherish those days together."

Tears prickled in the corner of Amy's eyes. "Shadow..." A younger version of herself would be sobbing at the table, clinging to his arm in sympathy. She could still imagine herself doing that, but she made a brave effort to contain the urge.

"It's been nearly a year now since she passed," he said. "I know she will always be with me." He tapped his chest, near his heart. "And above all, she wanted me to live my life to the fullest, to protect this world, and to pursue happiness. That is what I aim to do."

"That's so sweet," Amy said, her voice trembling gently. "I wish I could have met her...!"

Shadow looked up in gentle surprise, then chuckled. "I am sure you two would have gotten along swimmingly."

Amy giggled. "It might be weird to say this, but...it's kind of...reassuring, to know that we both have some...intense history, with relationships," she said. "I mean, not that they're the same, or anything, just like...we've both had people we've lost that have meant a lot to us. Meant everything, even."

Sonic's face popped into her mind. Scourge's next, followed by a rapid fire kaleidoscope of flings from the road. Maybe I have more of a storied history than he does, she thought. But, they don't compare to the one I kept dreaming about for years, and years, still clinging to that dream...

A dream that was never really going to come true...

She felt a hand reach out to touch hers, Shadow's fingers gently cupping over the top of her hand. "It has its comforts, yes," he said. "I am very happy to reconnect with you."

Amy beamed at him, turning over her hand to lace it with his, and he returned her smile, warm and soft. The moment lingered, but Shadow's eyes shifted, and then he sighed. "I apologize, but I am getting a call. I am to report in to Headquarters for a briefing..."

"I thought you had today off?" Amy asked. She was reluctant to let go of his hand.

"I did, but I am technically still on call for certain situations. That is part of the 'special ops' job description."

She allowed him to withdraw his hand. "Wait a sec, where's your phone?" she asked.

Shadow gently tapped the side of his head, and resumed a soft focus beyond her. Amy pulled out her own phone and stared at it.

"But...you have a number? You texted me?" she inquired. "Are you saying you have a SIM card in your brain or something?"

Shadow raised his eyebrows and said nothing. In her palm, her phone buzzed, and she tapped the notification:

"Shadow: >>Is that so surprising? My SMS interface is cumbersome, but I can still text faster than others with their thumbs."

Cheeky! she thought, puffing out her cheeks. "Well, aren't you fancy," she said.

"Fancy indeed," he replied. "Would you like to get together again? Dinner sometime, perhaps?"

"Ooh, I would love dinner," she replied, leaning forward as he stood up with his jacket. "Dinner, and then...maybe your place?"

"That sounds agreeable," he replied. "I will contact you later to sort out the details."

He walked around the table, then bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Until next time," he murmured.

Shadow walked out of the coffee shop, offering her one smile and a nod before the door shut behind him. As soon as he passed the windows and was out of site, Amy kicked her feet under the table in excitement. He's so charming! Oh, I have to keep this up.

With her phone in her hand, she scrolled down to a long forgotten group text. And you know what? He's right...I should reach out.

I'm not seeing some punk weirdo on the outskirts anymore...I can be more "me" again. And that starts with getting the gang back together.

With a flutter in her heart, and Shadow's words in her head, she tapped "SEND", and took another sip of her cooling coffee.

---

"To: Cream, Big Me: >>HEYYY listen i know it's been FOREVER but: girls night soon???

Cream: >>Yes hello of course?! I love you! How have you been? Let's do it!

Big: >>GIRLS NIIIIIIGHT ‼️‼️🐟🐟👯‍♀️👯‍♀️👯‍♀️❤️💚🩵💙🩷

Me: >>LMAO ilu guys sm...wanna do my place? i have SO much to tell you

Big: >>i wanna hear EVERYTHING girl. i know u have had EXPERIENCES. JOURNEYS >>i know it sounds crazy but i could also use a break from the fishing boat >>but i'm bringing froggy ok. he misses u

Me: >>LOL okay just dont let him out in to the apartment...we don't need another frog emergency

Big: >>deal

Cream: >>I'm so excited! I'll bring the snacks 🍫🍿"

#MORE a!shadamy...this one kind of got away from me but it's ok #if it's not obvious this picks up sometime shortly after 'comparison & contrast'

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