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[writingtraumaforever]

Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 38

Notes: I want to apologize for the long wait. I have struggled lately to sit down and write since I've been so busy-- my brain is a bit of everywhere. I will be taking a trip starting this upcoming week, and will be gone for a week and a half! So I likely won't update until about two weeks from today. Hopefully this will hold everyone off until then! Thank you all for your patience!<3

Summary: The gangs finally connect.

UC Masterpost!

Link to My AO3!

Start:

“Okay! Here goes nothing, everyone!”

Tails’ flips on the radio’s switch, immediately being met with static.

“Well, it’s working, at least,” the kit chuckles awkwardly.

“Are we able to connect to them properly??” Shadow asks, his ears perked up high over his head in an optimistic point at the sound of the static. Listening carefully for any sort of voice or pause in the constant fuzz of sound.

“Let me see,” the kid genius leans forward again, taking a nozzle in hand and beginning to slowly turn it. 

Everyone is quiet. Amy has her hands clamped together in front of her hopefully as she stands beside the worktable, Sonic standing with both hands pressed against the same workbench to lean against it. And Shadow with his arms crossed and a determined little furrow to his brow..

The only sound being the static and the light tapping of Sonic’s impatient foot on the concrete floor of the garage.

This goes on for a few minutes. 

Sonic’s eyes flicker up to look at Shadow, seeing the building tension and nervousness on his face as each moment passes with no signal. His hope beginning to be replaced by frustration. He feels helpless. Sure, he’s managed to help retrieve some chaos emeralds, but other than that, he’s done nothing. That feeling of failing as a hero, being useless, that he’s become all too familiar with begins to creep its way back into his mind.

This is why he can never slow down. The second he does, he starts having existential crises and questioning his existence and validity– nope. He’d just rather not. Rather stay busy and stay running and not deal with any of it. If this adventure required more badnik smashing, he’d be doing way better.

Amy sighs after a few minutes of waiting, moving around the table to stand next to Shadow and gently place an arm on his back. She rubs up and down it slowly as though she’s trying to comfort him, Sonic’s eyes following the movement. His gaze then shifts back up to Shadow who just knits his brows a bit, frustration turning into something sadder now that he’s being given comfort.

Sonic’s heart twists..

“Maybe they just aren’t home right now–” “Hello?? Hello, this is Miles ‘Ta-”

Everyone’s eyes grow huge, Tails immediately freezing in his current position he had been turning the nozzle.

“..Was that-” Amy starts but she’s quickly interrupted by Shadow who is practically jumping forward against the table.

“Turn it back! Get them back!”

“I’m trying!”

“Calm down, you’re gonna make him break it!” Sonic immediately chimes in, just managing to steady the workbench the radio is sitting on before it toppled over. Amy grabbing Shadow’s arm a bit tighter and pulling him back to chill him the heck out.

Sonic hadn’t been here earlier when Shadow had gotten the message from his world. He hadn’t got to see firsthand the absolute relief and joy he had felt when he heard the alternate world’s Team Sonic speaking to him, assuring him they’re alright. That they’d get him back. He didn’t doubt the guy was thrilled to hear this, but he hadn’t expected this sort of nervous energy from him. It was still so odd.. seeing anything being expressed from Shadow other than grumpiness or annoyance.

“Sorry,” Shadow huffs, closing his eyes as he seemingly tries to gather himself, “Sorry. I just–..” He sighs again, rubbing a gloved hand back through his quills. Sonic watches him with a small knit in his brow, Tails continuing to try and regain the connection. “It’s fine, dude,” the blue hero assures with a small smile, “Just relax. Tails has got this.”

“I know,” the dark hedgehog nods in return, offering his own nervous little smile gratefully to Sonic, “I know..”

And sure as chaos, the voices on the radio start back up.

“Ayo, MC Sonic up in the hizouse!”

“It’s not a toy, Sonic..”

“I know that. Just got tired of you repeating your name over and over, bro.”

Shadow’s ears immediately perk up again, eyes widening and smile stretching wide having heard his version of Sonic speaking. 

Sonic doesn’t think he’s ever seen Shadow smile so big..

Didn’t think it was even physically possible, honestly.

Instead of jumping at the radio this time, he waits patiently for Tails to lock in a bit better onto their signal, the static remaining but dimming until it was only a low buzz. 

“..I think I’ve got ‘em,” the red blinking light on the radio turning a consistent green now, his accomplished blue eyes raising to look at Sonic’s own proud ones.

“Way to go, buddy!” Sonic grins, ruffling the kit’s bangs and causing the fox to giggle with a little blush at the praise.

“You’re amazing, Tails!” Amy adds with a grin, Shadow too focused on the radio to chime in on the appreciation currently.

“Aw, it was nothing. The instructions sent from the other world made it pretty easy–” “Can I talk to them??” Shadow interrupts without meaning to, scarlet eyes hopeful as they look at the fox for permission.

“Uh.. yes, hopefully. Let’s give it a try, huh??”

“Please,” Shadow breathes with a nod, moving to sit where Tails had been in the chair once the fox has moved for him.

Tails remains leaned over the table, showing Shadow all the controls.

“This here switch is the power. This knob is for the signal if it starts to get fuzzy. This one is volume. And to speak into the mic, you need to hold down this button..” “Got it,” Shadow nods, finger hovering over the mic button. He pauses. Sonic sees the moment of hesitation. The nervous energy feeding into his expression as he shuts his eyes and swallows thick in his throat. He’s scared.. Scared it won’t work, scared it will and what he may find when it does..

“Hey,” Sonic says quietly, Shadow’s eyes opening and looking up to his with a knit to his brow. Sonic winks and gives a thumbs up, “You got this.” Shadow’s expression softens at this, a tiny smile forming on his mouth before he nods and looks back to the radio.

Here goes nothing.

Pressing his finger down on the mic button, he leans in to speak, “Tails?? Tails, do you copy?? It’s Shadow..”

Releases the button. Waiting..

“Krrch We read you loud and clear, Shadow–”

The team erupts into cheering, Amy hugging Tails and jumping up and down with him while Sonic claps Shadow on the back with a wide grin.

“Told you!” Shadow just laughs, his eyes looking almost misty as his smile is so stretched it almost hurts his cheeks. He leans back in to speak again, “Thank chaos–” “Shadow!?? Shadow, can you hear me!?”

It’s the other Sonic’s voice now, having lost its unserious playfulness they had heard moments ago and now instead being far more excited and hopeful.

Sonic.. Doesn’t know what to think of that.

“Yes! Yes, it’s me, I’m here!” “Oh Gaia, Shadow!” is he crying??? “Oh my chaos– you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice! Are you okay????”

“I’m perfectly fine, Sonic,” Shadow chuckles breathily, his own voice sounding a bit choked up now, “They’ve been taking care of me over here.” “Good! I’d have to whoop some alternate ass if not!”Shadow chuckles at hearing this, rolling his eyes and shaking his head affectionately.

“How are you? Are you okay??” “How’s our Shadow??” Sonic finds himself adding without hesitation, his mind racing on where the other might be.. He’s done a really good job at not showing his worry throughout all of this, but now that they’re so close??.. It would just be really nice to be assured he’s okay or hasn’t tried to take on all this mess on his own.

His answer comes in the form of a gruff voice speaking on the other end of the signal.

“Sonic??”

“Shadow!” Sonic beams, leaning in closer to the alternate Shadow now to be next to the mic, “Dude, you’re alive!” “Of course I’m alive, you idiot, why wouldn’t I be??”

Sonic snorts, rolling his eyes and chuckling at that all to familiar grouchiness, “Aw man, it’s so nice to hear an insult from you again.”

“Hmph,” is all he gets in response, but Sonic knows that’s an amused huff. It makes him smile more. “We’re all good over here,” the alternate Sonic’s voice comes again, “Shadow is being taken care of, and we’re slow and steadily gathering the chaos emeralds.”

“Same here,” Shadow responds, leaning his elbow against the table as he speaks, “We currently have four. Still working on the other three.” “We’ve gotten our hands on five,” Alt. Sonic replies all smug as if it’s a competition and yeah.. Yeah, sounds like the alternate Sonic is just as juvenile as Sonic himself.

Shocker.

“Ask where they found theirs. Maybe it’ll give us some ideas for our own??” Tails offers with a cock of his brow.

“Where’d you–” “I heard him,” Alt. Sonic chimes in, Shadow smirking at his lover’s impatience, “Heya Alternate Tails, by the way!”“Hello!” Tails laughs, finding all of this honestly incredible. 

“Thanks for hooking me and my ‘lovuh’ up,” the alternate Sonic jokes, and the entire room suddenly goes quiet.

Shadow tenses up a bit, eyes widening slightly as he stares at the mic and very much not at Sonic who he can feel staring holes into the side of his head.

Sonic’s eyes were indeed boring into Shadow’s face. Waiting on him to correct the alternate version of him. Scold him for being so stupid. For calling them ‘lovers’. It never comes..

Maybe he misheard it! Maybe that’s not what his alternate version said at all! Maybe he said something completely different. Something innocent and more teasing. Or perhaps he was only playfully flirting like Sonic does with everyone, and it didn’t actually mean anything at all!

One good look at Shadow’s own deer in headlights expression told him that wasn’t true.

“...hello? Tails, I think we lost them-”“No! Nope, we’re uh.. We’re still here,” Shadow speaks into the mic, actively avoiding looking at anyone else in the room in that moment.

“Oh! It just got real quiet, so I thought-”“Nope! We’re here! All good..” Amy’s eyes shift from the back of Shadow’s head to Sonic, her hands then shooting up to cover her mouth, snorting into her palms.

Sonic blinks at this, eyes looking at her and–

She knew!?

“Okay good! So let’s talk emeralds, huh?? We got one from GUN, one in the forest outside Green Hills with the Tornado, Amy just arrived with a green one she got from Seaside. Uh.. Shadow and I got one from Eggman, and Rouge pawned one off someone in Casino Zone.”

“Perfect,” Shadow replies, though his brain barely processed any of that information. Frankly he’s a bit too tied up in the very sudden and unignorable tension in the garage, “We haven’t tried Casino Zone or Seaside Island yet, so maybe we could–” “What do you mean ‘lovuh’!?” Sonic interrupts quite suddenly, causing Shadow to flinch before sighing and rubbing a palm down his face.

Oh great.. This conversation is going to go swimmingly.

“I meant ‘lover’, but I was saying it all cool,” Alternate Sonic says after a little pause, an awkward chuckle coming through the radio, “You… you.. Did tell them we were together, didn’t you, Shads??”

Shadow groans a bit, rubbing his hand down his face and then back up into his quills, “I hadn’t exactly gotten around to it yet..” “We’re together!?” Sonic croaks, eyes wide as saucers and cheeks glowing a bright red along with the tips of his ears. Amy just giggles more, trying to keep quiet because this wasn’t funny but Sonic’s reaction was kinda hilarious?

Tails just looks extremely uncomfortable and tired. He’s worked his ass off to get this thing working and for what?? So these idiots can straighten out their relationship statuses???

“We’re not together,” Shadow corrects, gesturing his finger at himself and Sonic, before then gesturing to himself and the radio, “We’re together.” “Like– you and alternate me!?” “Yes,” Shadow sighs again, clearly not wanting for Sonic to find out like this. “You didn’t tell them??” Alt. Sonic questions through the speaker of the radio, sounding a bit confused and maybe even a little hostile, “Why didn’t you tell them!?”“I didn’t think it was exactly essential information–” “O-ho! So I’m not essential information!??”“What!? No- that’s not–” “Were you keeping me a secret so you could seduce the other me!?”

“What!?”

“You know what??? Whatever. None of this is essential anyway, so I’m just gonna go do essential things. Here’s Tails.”

“No! Sonic, wait–!”

There’s a long pause, some muffled movements through the radio and then a loud BOOM followed by silence.

More muffled movement, the mic being picked up on the other end,

“Well, that went well..,” it’s the alternate Tails’ voice again, sounding tired and annoyed. “Very,” Tails agrees with his alternate version, sounding equally as exasperated. “Why didn’t you tell me??” Sonic’s voice comes quietly, ears flattening slightly as he looks at Shadow. Shadow who looks very overwhelmed and in shock at how terribly that just went. Sonic seems angry. Confused. “You should’ve told me! I deserve to know that sort of thing!”

Amy is concerned now, no longer finding any of this amusing..

“..Sonic, maybe we should–” “No, he-.. He has the right to be upset,” Shadow interrupts her, moving from the chair to allow Tails to take his place sitting in it again, “See if you and my Tails can work something out on how to get me back.” “On it,” Tails says simply, nodding as he plops himself down in the chair to begin plotting with his alternate version.

“You,” Shadow turns to Sonic, nodding his head towards the garage’s exit, “...You and me are gonna go have a chat.”

[forffax]

returning the favor with oc asks since i always wanna hear about yours !! if you had to pick like your top 5 favorite characters who would they be and why 👀 bonus if you want to pick your favorite like settings/worlds/universes youve made for ocs too!

OOOUH thank u chase!!!

I'm gonna list out my favs then talk abt my main oc universe a bit ^_^

This got ridiculously long so it's going under a readmore <3

1. Tos Family (sorry this is going to be. the whole family bc I cannot possibly choose between them)

i. Lux Tos (he/him)

(realizing now i haven't drawn him in a hot fuckin minute)

MY DAD. guy of all time ever. everyone's favorite half-human time traveling alien war vet. it always feels weird referring 2 him as part alien even if it's technically true sdjfgs. fun lore fact: he was the Dead Older Brother in original iteration Zephyr's Sad Backstory but I liked him too much so I decided he got to live <3

Lux is one of my older ocs that I still actively draw and think abt (late middle school...) and he's changed a LOT over the years but he's so so so dear to me. my guy who has Seen the Horrors and is now happily gay married with a kid :') sdfkjsk most things abt his story is just me being So Incredibly Self Indulgent (cool powers, complicated sibling relationships, gay) but it makes me happy and I love sharing it with ppl! Someday Voided 2 will be real and ready to share with the world...

ii. Ferdinand Tos (he/him)

Dad....2!!!!!! I don't remember when exactly I thought him up but it was probably around when Lux's backstory was getting a major overhaul... He's a man out of time he's training to be a doctor and his will to live is so strong he spent the better part of nearly two decades building himself a new body! Guys who died but got better <3. I think I literally got brain blasted one day and decided he's a non-op trans man and it was the best thing ever for him actually. He's a southern californian stuck in the cold northwest (probably. either that or the northeast im not settled on that aspect yet skdjfs). He's been super fun to write from a worldbuilding perspective too bc his main goal is to pioneer a new branch of medicine using his powers! His relationship with Lux and the rest of the family (and his reconciliation with his sister) is sooooo important 2 me :]

iii. Athanasius Tos (she/her)

THANAAAAA most normal sibling (lie). She was adopted formally right after Lux "died" and had a bit of a complex about just being a "replacement" for a good while, and she THOUGHT she had worked through that when Lux suddenly re-appeared... they're on great terms now but it was Tense. She's a biochemist and probably makes the most out of the household (she shares an apartment with Zeph!) It's very important 2 me that she can let herself be vulnerable with her family and close friends after years of bottling everything up... Epic nerdy autistic butches in your area <3 Fun fact she is the only full human of the main cast!

iv. Zephyr Tos (she/him)

My fuckign auncle. Within the story she only recently realized he was bigender and is much happier for it, even if you couldn't tell by her permanent scowl skjdfgs. Zeph was the original protag (along with Thana) of the short story I wrote in middle school that turned into Voided 2! In-universe he was very clearly supposed to be the protag but missed/ignored the "call to action" phase and just got a shitton of Issues and Traumas instead <3 She's so everything 2 me he's a freelance writer/artist she's kinda cringe and he is trying only as hard as she absolutely needs to in order to get by. While his relationship with Lux is MUCH better than it was when Lux first came back, she's completely inseparable from Thana and would do anything for her (I feel like they spent equal times protecting each other from bullies as kids...) He's changed so much from her original incarnation but developing him has been SO much fun <3 Since Voided 2 runs on real-world time (in that I have specific real-world dates for most major events) she turned 50 fairly recently and that's fucked but also funny. old.

v. Alan Tos (any)

Alan! Love this kiddo. He's Lux and Ferdinand's adoptive kid! Xe doesn't learn about it for a while but she was a government secret experiment test-tube baby (they were trying to artificially fuse souls together, distantly related to the later Child Soldier School ze was placed into) (kid cannot catch a break). He's a good kid, if not a little clueless and naive... someone who would hold no ill-will if you had to cut their leg off (this is not a hypothetical GJSKDS). Somehow, despite all this, she is by far the most Normal out of xer family <3 His fashion sense is some kind of spectrum between 60s businesswoman and scene and tbh? Very fun to draw! Her friends and family are very very dear to them and at the moment xe's just kind of letting life take zem wherever.

2. Vague (it/they)

unauthorized fucking thing kill it with hammers NOW!!!!!

Vague started as I think just a proxy for myself in vent art I drew in like early high school sdhjfgds they have since become. something. my mascot I guess? (I still end up using it for vent art sometimes bc it's functionally unkillable and it's fun 2 get narsty sometimes.)

originally it was just the weird cat-shaped angel thing but a couple years ago I gave them a human design that I really love too <3 vague technically has a place in Niko and my other cat furry ocs' story but their human form exists in the real world and is just Like That i think. vague is just a little guy okay? they're sorry about crying and bleeding all over the place (not bc it sees any issue with this they just noticed you looked upsetskjdfhs)

3. Niko (he/they)

Baby's first fursona! Niko was always mostly his own character but now that I have new This is Just Me sona(s), they've been officially retired from that front <3 Niko's story is mostly planned out, I just desperately need to write it somewhere skjdbfs but the gist is that Niko works a shitty minimum wage call center job and finds meaning and love through forming a band with people he happens to meet... also there's some whistleblowing and betrayal and vague slams down out of the sky at some point <3 Niko's band doesn't have a name but they're the lead vocalist! (Niko 🤝 Blue (is blue and sings in their band)) This is a universe where everyone is cat furries simply bc I wanted to design lots of cat furries but also I haven't drawn like half of his bandmates/friends.... orz

Fun fact I found my original doodles of him in an old math notebook and apparently I seriously considered the name "chandler" for them. Help,

4. Larkspur (they/them)

Laaark my friend lark :] they're my player character for a friend's tabletop campaign! *hands you a bug* *hands you a bug* *hands-

Their design was super fun to come up with and they're fun to play as :] They were raised on a farm and have a deep love for animals (insects in particular), but they have a hard time connecting with others and understanding why people act the way they do.. They wear an eyepatch to cover their multiple other eyes bc it gives them bad sensory overload to see with them! They also spent quite a bit of time as a bounty hunter before they were blacklisted from further work bc they let a target escape on purpose... Lark is a ranger/bard and they play the hurdy-gurdy! They're dear to me and I really need to draw them more sjdfhgs

5. Chungy Fresh (she/he/they)

Chungy my belungy.... she's a mimic who spent most of his life being a chest in the temple of a forgotten goddess until they gained sentience and saw a fursuit from far away and decided yep! I'm gonna look like that Now <3 She didn't get all the details right but he's never been happier! I think Chungy spawned from me drawing a weird fox thing and simultaneously thinking "hey wouldn't it be funny if a character had a verbal text/forum signature and it was also their name" skdjfgjskdfls. Chungy is def up there with "most fun ocs of mine to draw" bc she's so Noodly and Malleable... I started playing as him in a friend group's tabletop oneshot thingy (where multiple ppl write different unrelated oneshots but we use the same characters for each session) and it has been a lot of fun!

OKAY OC UNIVERSE TIME. I call my main oc story "Voided 2" bc it takes place in the same universe as my v personal self insert oc story "Voided" that I have been working on/writing/thinking abt since late middle school... It's kinda vaguely modern fantasy/sci-fi? Main things are that there are beings born at the beginning of the universe made of pure energy called Lunoirs. There are countless universes, and each universe has Lunoirs in some capacity. They mainly exist to "keep the balance," but if you ask any specific Lunoir what that means you'll get a million different answers. Mainly they gravitate towards any life within their universe and integrate with them, observing them and protecting them from Shadows and Vacares. Shadows are the unliving souls that will eventually be reborn and reformed into a living soul inside any given universe-- they exist in the space between universes, called the Void. the Void looks different to any being that crosses into it, and it's hard to say what its "true" nature is. Vacares are Lunoirs that have had their souls corrupted and eaten, usually by other Vacares. While Shadows, being amalgamations of soul energy, are strictly neutral, Vacares seek to cause chaos and eat more Lunoir souls, increasing their numbers in a vain attempt to satisfy their endless hunger.

The Lunoir population on Earth is fairly numerous, and since Lunoirs can take on whatever form they choose, many of them live and love and have children with humans, making partial-lunoir children (physically they are nearly indistinguishable from full humans, save for longer lifespans, odd hair and eye colors, and sharper teeth. also they have semi-physical wings, but these have to be manually brought out and often ppl don't even know they have them (*cough* zephyr *cough*)

Lunoirs aren't fully immortal, but they have a different life cycle to most other forms of life. When a non-lunoir dies, their soul disintegrates and is amalgamated with the souls of others in the Void to become Shadows. When a Lunoir dies (outside of having their soul completely corrupted/destroyed), they instead go into a sort of stasis and are reborn later; they have no memories of their previous life (the ones on Earth don't, at least) and they can take on wildly different appearances.

Lunoirs and partial Lunoirs have powers in the form of energy manipulation, particularly when it comes to the energy of their own souls... They can use their souls to form weapons, mainly to fight against Vacares that tend to be immune to physical weapons. Most people have one weapon that they specialize in, but in a pinch nearly everyone can form a knife. Humans can manipulate their own soul energy in this way too, but this ability must be taught/"unlocked" by a Lunoir or a partial Lunoir first (Zephyr, at some point, did this for Thana without either of them realizing it). Lunoirs can also manipulate the energy of the very universe to create Rifts in time and space, sometimes leading between separate universes... These rifts also open of their own accord from time to time, and there's a good number of people who have been displaced from their time or even their universe by unwittingly falling into one.

Every living being has a "soul" (a collection of their life energy), and through a kind of "reaching out," one can feel/taste/smell/hear/see another's soul... every soul is a bit different, so this is an easy way to identify people even from a distance!

The Earth Lunoirs once had a country where they congregated called Saluria, which was the site of a brutal multi-year war against an army of Vacares that wanted reign over Earth... Many Lunoirs and partial Lunoirs across all of Earth's history felt drawn to Saluria, often willingly or unwillingly being rifted to the time of the war to go fight in it... Some partial Lunoirs especially believed it was their sacred duty, while others believed it was a curse leading them to inevitable death... there's even whispers that Saluria itself is alive, luring in young partial and full Lunoirs out of self-preservation.. who's to say. Ultimately, the Salurian War was a victory, but not an easy one.

Lux and Zephyr are half Lunoirs (their mom being full), and Ferdinand is 3/4ths Lunoir! Alan is a bit of a weird case but functionally he's also half Lunoir :]

This is v much simplifying Years of worldbuilding ssjhdfgjks and I can FEEL I missed a bunch of stuff but it's all very very dear 2 me :]

[moonstruckme]

Hear me out reader who only feels comfortable getting sloshed/drunk when Remus is there cause she loves that she can trust him enough to take care of her <3 or reader accidentally gets super drunk and remus takes care of her and finds the situation very amusing cause reader usually isn’t this free. love ur work!

Thank you for your request gorgeous!!

cw: alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 573 words

You’re giggling, nearly hanging off Remus’ arm as you walk a ways behind your group of friends. “I’m really sorry,” you say again, eyes turning up to his with a sheepish smile tickling your lips. “I never usually get like this.” 

“It’s really okay, lovely.” Remus smiles. He doesn’t mind that he has to keep reassuring you, only that you seem to think you have to keep apologizing. “It happens to everyone.”

You’re not even that sloshed, he doesn’t think. Enough to be walking funny and to be giving him far more sweet looks than you would be otherwise, but Remus thinks you’ll still remember all of this tomorrow. All in all, it’s not a bad deal for him. You’ve been clinging to his arm all night, hiding smiles in his shoulder and preening each time he drops a kiss on your head. 

“No, but honestly,” you go on, “I don’t want you to think I do this every time I go out. I don’t usually need taking care of.” 

“I don’t think that,” he says. “Not that I think it��s such a bad thing to need taking care of from time to time, either. Do you want your cheesy chips?” 

You’ve forgotten he’s holding them for you, and your face lights up when you remember. Remus hands them over, watching as you open the takeaway container with your arm still looped through his and steam wafts up to your face. A drunken James had insisted he needed a burger to complete his night, so most of your friends had gotten some snack or another for the walk home from the bar. 

You nearly moan as you take your first bite, and Remus has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “I think that’s part of it,” you say through a mouthful. “That you don’t think it’s such a bad thing.” 

Remus hums. “How do you mean?” 

“Well, I just—” You cover your mouth, chewing. “I didn’t set out to get drunk, honestly, but I did sort of have a sense that I could if I wanted to. I trust you.” 

Remus’ chest warms. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you say, kissing cheese sauce off your fingertips. “I mean, I know you’d always watch out for me if I needed you to.” 

It’s a good thing none of his friends are looking back, because Remus is fairly certain the smile that takes him would earn him at least three days of jokes and teasing. He loves that you feel that way. You and Remus have only been dating for a handful of weeks, but he does want to look after you and it makes him happy beyond reason that you feel safe enough to let him. The kiss he presses into your hair is heavy with affection. 

“I’m glad,” he says. Understatement of the year. 

You curl closer to him, your arm pressing against his through your coats. Remus treasures the closeness. He wishes you were like this more often. Not drunk, necessarily, but free with yourself, with asking for and occasionally taking what you want. 

You look up at him, eyes glittery in the low light. “Would you like a chip?” you ask him sweetly. 

When Remus agrees, you try to feed it to him, missing by a mile. It’s a plot; he lets you kiss the cheese sauce off the edges of his mouth for as long as you like.

[ellieslittlewh0re]

━ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ୨⎯ 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧! 𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⎯୧

𖧷

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

⟢ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗎𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈, 𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗒/𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗓𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉! (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 mid-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗏𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 & 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝖽, 𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 (𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒) 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍

𝙖/𝙣 - 𝗂 𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝟤-𝟥 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇�� 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

It was a slim chance, almost next to none that you out of all people would get the job. It's not like you have any experience with taking care of kids, maintaining a house, and especially of this scale. But here you were, standing in front of your new home, at least for next however long you can keep your new boss satisfied.

The driveway itself felt like it was straight out of a movie- luxury cars, perfectly polished laid stone, lined with landscaping around the edges that looked almost fake from a distance, not a singular blade of grass being out of line.

As you take in the surroundings, slowly making your way up the (what feels like) mile long driveway, a man is closing the front door behind him.

"Hello!" He calls out, waving his hand in your direction to come over.

He extends his arm as you approach him, offering a gentle handshake, and introduces himself as Owen.

He looked slightly out of place, not as much as you did, but still noticeable.

You laughed nervously, still unsure who "Owen" is supposed to be.

"Are you the one who I emailed about the job?" You asked, clenching your fingers nervously around the handle of your suitcase.

He placed his hands on his hips, looking a little off-guard before seemingly understanding,

"No, no, sorry, that would be my wife- ex wife." He corrected himself, giving you a tight lipped smile that felt more like a soothing self-pity tick.

You nodded, and looked around, unsure of what to say next.

"Sorry-" He laughed again, "I'm just stopping by to drop our son off. She's inside."

"Ah" You mouthed, and thanked the man. He walked past you, past the Bentley, and approached the driver side of the less expressive looking car in the driveway before turning around and shouting a "good luck".

What you do know- 1. Your boss is a woman, 2. She's divorced (seemingly), and 3. She's seriously fucking loaded.

What the man meant by "good luck" you can only assume. Maybe she's a bitch, or maybe, he's just bitter about whatever their history is, but you don't even have time to think of the possibilities because the front door is opening once again.

"You're late."

She stood in front of the wooden, 8, maybe 9 foot tall door, not even bothering to look at you as she fiddled with the cufflinks on her perfectly tailored, white button down.

"I'm so sorry, I had a uber cancel-"

She sighed, very clearly unimpressed by your excuse.

"Bedtime is at 7, and there's food in the fridge-"

She turned, walking inside, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with her longer strides as she briefly escorted you through the foyer, and into the kitchen, "There's emergency contacts here in case of an emergency." She sighed deeply, from annoyance or exhaustion you couldn't tell, pointing to a small notebook island.

You rocked on your heels, nodding at her every word because, honestly, you were scared and weren't sure if you could trust your voice at this point.

"Alright." She exhaled, not really directed at you, and picked up a coat that was hanging on the back of a bar stool, draping it over her arm, "Oh, one more thing-" She leaned forward, and placed a hand on your shoulder, violating your senses with her cologne, "-don't give him any sugar after 4, he'll keep you up all night."

You looked up, and finally, she sees you, her blue eyes etching themselves into yours.

"Yes, ma'am."

And Abby wasn't sure if it made her feel better or worse when she did this. Sure, you seemed responsible enough- shy and respectful, but shit, you were pretty.

She backed away and cleared her throat, turning her back towards you as she made her way towards the direction of the front door, the heels of her chairman shoes echoing against the hardwood floors.

-

The house was eerily quiet when there wasn't a 4-year-old running around and filling its vastness with his laughs and clanking of toys, not that you minded though, you were exhausted.

You sat in what looked to be the "family room", given the chest of toys, and large mounted t.v. with leather couches that felt too firm, almost like they had never been sat in by someone who weighed over 40 pounds, still, it served it purpose in giving you the place to readjust.

What you do know- 1. She works late, 2. Her son's name is Carter, and 3. She's scarily attractive.

Wait-

She's attractive? No- you can't think that. She's your BOSS, and she has a ex-husband, so, she's most likely straight, right?

You got up, pacing around the house, and looked around to make sure everything was where it should be in hopes it kept your head occupied.

You re- read through the notes she had left behind in the note pad, what the security code was, where your room was etc... but, even then, you still found yourself examining her handwriting, which also found a way to look expressive.

And then you thought about how she dressed- clean and sharp, the muscles in her back flexing as she walked away, and how tightly her shirt hugged her arms-

Your head darts towards the archway that just barely kept the front door out of sight, the faint beeping of the security code being dialed in freezing you.

The door opened and closed, the wall still shielding the company, and you anxiously fixed yourself- pushing strands of hair behind your ears and smoothing out the wrinkles on your pleated skirt.

Abby rounded the corner, looking down while unbuttoning the first three buttons of her shirt before looking up.

She looked shocked to see you standing there, and evidently waiting for her to get home.

She remembered telling which room was yours in the notes, right?

"Jesus it's-" She looked down at the watch on her wrist, "- It's almost 11. What are you still doing awake?" She sounded almost annoyed like she was looking forward to the peace and quiet that you now ruined, but she wasn't annoyed per se.

See, it's been a while since she has been this attracted to someone, and after being married for 12 years and losing all the skills that comes with flirting, she wasn't sure how to handle it.

"Couldn't sleep." You lied, knowing you didn't even try to go to bed, but she doesn't need to stress herself out with you when she has her own stuff to deal with.

Abby sat at the kitchen island, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows, and you can't help but notice the new skin- the thickness of her forearms and how the muscles curved along the side.

She looked exhausted- still polished, but the front stands of her hair were now loose from her slicked-back hairstyle, gently dancing over her cheeks when she moved her head.

Suddenly, you felt like a burden and didn't want to piss her off more than you thought you already had. So, you excused yourself and started to walk past her towards the hall, but she stuttered something, something that you didn't quite catch.

"Hm?" You turned around, eyes wide and eager to hear what she had to say.

It's been awhile since anyone cared that much to listen to her, she thought.

"Care for a drink?" As soon as the question left Abby's lips, she felt a little embarrassed- hell, she wasn't even sure if you were old enough to drink, not that she cares if a person under the age of 21 drinks alcohol, but she does care if the question came off... weird.

Maybe it was weird.

By the look on Abby's face, it's like you had already declined her offer- defeated and a little bit of a bruised ego, ready to remove herself from the conversation all together, and never speak of it again.

"Sure." You agreed, smiling at her, and she returned the smile, her face lighting up like she hadn't sat down with someone for a drink in a long time, which is no surprise to anyone when you're a mom and have a long, demanding work schedule.

She got up, walking across the kitchen to an intricately detailed wooden cabinet, "What do you want?"

She started to list all the different names of liquor, some sounding foreign to you as you sat down in the barstool that was next the one she was occupying previously, swiveling it back and forth with your feet, "I'll have what you're having." You say sweetly, not wanting her to go through the extra effort of pouring something different.

She chuckled, looking at you over her shoulder before dropping her head, shaking it back and forth.

She pulled a bottle from the middle shelf, setting it on the counter along with two short glasses.

She poured the dark caramel liquid, filling the glass by only an inch or two, and slid it across the island, "Ladies first." She motioned her hand, waiting for you to taste it.

You brought the crystal to your lips, your cheeks hot from the undivided attention she was giving you, but you brushed it off and tilted the glass back.

The liquor burned your throat, every part of you wanting to spit it out, but you swallow anyway.

"It's good." You lied, and not very convincingly, which humored Abby, chuckling at your reaction before pouring her own drink, filling it more than what she had done for yours.

She cornered the counter, joining you in the bar seats, "You get used to it."

You were too shy to look at her face in case her eyes met yours, but you had no issue with looking at her hands- how big they were, almost making the glass disappear in her grip, the veins running across the top of them that trailed your eyes to her fingers- also strong and thick to match the rest of her.

You caught yourself staring too hard- pulling your eyes away and grabbing your glass, taking another painful sip.

Abby was, of course, oblivious to this, thinking you were just trying to appease her.

-

The drinks got forgotten in the conversations you two shared, and now, sitting with her on the couch, talking like you had known her longer than just a day, but you could thank the alcohol for that one.

You weren't necessarily wasted, but it was the kind of drunk where you weren't really paying attention to what Abby was saying or why she was even laughing for that matter... something about her son? Whatever.

You were, however, paying attention to her face, how beautiful she was, and how her hand so effortlessly settled on your bare thigh, and a warmth that pooled into the pit of your stomach following.

When Abby realized she was touching you, she jerked away and cleared her throat, "It's late-" She stood up, half facing away from you so you wouldn't notice that she- a full-grown, mature woman was blushing, and not only that, but she was blushing over her brand-spanking-new employee.

A small disappointed "oh" brushed past your lips before you ultimately agreed.

It's probably for the best to keep this relationship professional, Abby knew this, but fuck, she'd be lying if she denied the fact she thought about you the moments leading up to her falling asleep that night.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith

[featherandferns]

Could I pretty please request:

We might have a problem...Ask me again in twenty minutes.

This sounds so much fun. I can’t wait to see what you do with it, everything you write is absolute magic<3

8. We might have a problem...Ask me again in twenty minutes.

idk which part of the series I'm taking this road chase from lmao just go with it! sorry it took me so long to get to these lmao

Neutral - prompt 8

“Guys! They’re getting closer!” Kiara calls out. 

“I hate this! I hate all of this!” you loudly announce. 

“Yeah, thank you, baby, keep that feedback coming - it’s very helpful,” JJ mutters. 

His hands are clenching the wheel tight, knuckles white, focus trained dead ahead on the road. Speed limits are a thing of the past: a nicety that all of you have long since abandoned. Anxiety is pulsing through your veins, somehow sharpening and blurring your vision. In the dark streets of Kildare, your headlights illuminate the road ahead. Behind, are square-groupers. Some gang or another that you had collectively managed to tick off during one of your many adventures. It was becoming far from a coincidence that you all managed to find yourself in these situations time and time again. 

“They’re gaining!” Cleo tells you through her thick accent. 

Your head snaps around to look through the rearview. She was right. What kind of car were they driving? 

“JJ!” you shout. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,” he says underbreath, shifting up a gear, picking up the speed. The Twinkie grunts at the effort and your brows tug together, eyes glancing down to the bonnet that you can see through the front window. 

“Pope! How’s it looking?” JJ asks his friend in the back. Pope inspects the roadmap, trying to make out the street names through the dimly lit back of the van. “Pope!”

“Just give me a minute!” 

“We don’t have a minute!” three of you chorus. 

“Oh my God, this is how we die,” Sarah very usefully says to herself. You see your boyfriend roll his eyes, aggravated, stressed and driven. 

“Pope, there’s a fork coming up,” you say, making out the road layout ahead. You glance to JJ and notice he isn’t slowing down. Then, to Pope. Then, to the road. “Pope!”

“Left! Take a left!”

JJ slams on the breaks, pulls up the handbrake, shifts down a gear, and toggles with the clutch. It happens in a split second, a chaotic collection of events that is blurred into one. Everyone in the van goes flying: you into the side window, gasping out in pain at the collision. Turning the wheel tight, JJ practically skids onto the road. The engine revs like a monster truck. And then, it makes the most blood chilling, mechanic-concerning noise you’ve ever heard. JJ tries to do something with the gear shift and it wiggles uselessly in place. 

“Uh oh,” he mumbles. 

“Uh oh? What’s ‘uh oh’?” you panic, studying him. He cringes and looks at the road. 

“Uh…We might have a problem,” he says, trying to keep his tone chipper. 

“We might have a problem?” you echo, bewildered. 

“Ask me again in twenty minutes,” JJ flippantly says. He keeps driving ahead, foot hard on the pedal, but something sounds different this time. Something feels different too. 

“JJ,” John B says in a rather levelled out tone. The kind that hints at a deeper anxiety. “Please don’t tell me you’re driving this in neutral right now?”

“Look, man, the axel must have–”

“Oh no.”

“We’re coasting?” 

“At seventy miles per hour!” 

“Look! I don’t control the fates, a’right! We gotta loose these guys!” JJ argues back, lifting one hand from the wheel to wave everybody off. You reach out and slam it back onto the grip; the last thing you need is him to lose control of the car. 

“Oh my God, we’re actually going to die,” Sarah repeats, and this time, you don’t entirely disagree. It feels like a real possibility now. 

“Kie! Are they still tailing us?” JJ calls out. Everyone looks through the back window. A new layer of tension has stacked inside the van. 

“I don’t see them,” she says, the road behinds nothing but a dark abyss. “Maybe turn down a side road just to be safe?”

“Great, yeah, just make a turn in neutral,” you mutter. 

“Baby, I gotta admit, if you keep that kinda attitude up, I might actually end up crashing this car,” JJ tells you. Your mouth falls open. 

“Don’t tell me something like that!”

“Just make the turn!” John B demands. 

“He’s right, man!” Cleo agrees. 

“There’s a side road coming up in about ten yards or so,” Pope informs. 

JJ nods and you immediately steel yourself in your seat. You check your seatbelt and grip the bottom of the chair, and you wait for him to slow down. He does, but not by much, and when he finally braves the corner, you make peace with your maker. 

Thankfully, no collision comes. The engine rumbles off and the gang lets out a collected sigh of relief. Slowly opening your eyes, you glance over to see your boyfriend staring blankly at his grip on the wheel. He eventually looks over at you and a smile comes onto his face. 

“What’d I tell you, huh? Nothing to worry about.”

“You owe me noodles,” you tell him, unimpressed, and get out the truck. The others follow suit and Sarah actually staggers over to some trash cans, worried she might vomit. JJ heads to the car bonnet and cracks it open. Smoke billows out with steam and he waves it away, John B and Cleo coming to join him in their inspection. You wander over to help console Kie and Sarah. 

“Yep, that’s what I thought!” JJ announces. You look over to him to find a piece of mechanics held up in a bandana. “The gear shift is fucked!” Your eyes narrow at him for his chipperness. He owes you even more noodles now.

[amethystarachnid]

Hey rose! I'm really excited for the Marvel holiday special!! Can I please request Steve Rogers x short!Reader (is this self indulgent? Maybe!😭 People literally have to bend down to hug me idk, tall genes of my family skipped me) for the second prompt- miseltoe mishap? Thank you!<3 🩷

P.s. I LOVE all of your fics 🤌✨

UNDER THE MISTLETOE

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓ★ Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x short!fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.2k

ᯓ★ Summary: Steve's new year resolution was simple: confess his feeling for you, but as a new year approaches he still hasn't said a word. So, after a mysterious Christmas gift you receive, you decide to take matter into your own hands.

ᯓ★ TW(s): so much fluff it needs a tw and some teasing and flirty comments from y/n

ᯓ★ I'm sorry but as you all may have noticed the requested aren't being written in the chronological order they were requested because I got confused between the asks and the comments in the post and can't figure out who has requested before who, so I'm just writing it following the prompt list. I'm sorry but don't worry, your request will be written!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The Avengers Tower is a beacon of Christmas cheer this time of year, buzzing with the energy of festive preparations. Garlands hang from the railings, twinkling lights are draped across every conceivable surface, and the smell of hot cocoa wafts from the kitchen. It’s a cozy chaos, and you’re in the thick of it, perched on a step stool as you wrestle with a particularly stubborn string of fairy lights.

Your arms ache from holding them above your head for so long, but you’re determined to get them just right. The lights have to be even—no awkward gaps or clumps. It’s a matter of principle, and besides, you know Tony will be annoying about it if you don’t.

“Need a hand?” a familiar voice asks from behind you.

You glance down and find Steve Rogers standing there, all broad shoulders and gentle eyes. He’s holding a box of ornaments, his cheeks tinged pink—not from the cold (you’re indoors, after all), but something else. The sight of him is enough to make your own cheeks heat up, though you do your best to ignore it. Steve has that effect on people.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, gritting your teeth as you stretch a little further. The stool wobbles, and his hands dart out instinctively, steadying you with a feather-light touch. You freeze, your heart doing an Olympic-level somersault.

“You sure?” he asks, his voice low and careful. “That stool doesn’t look very—uh—stable.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, though your confidence in the stool’s structural integrity is rapidly dwindling. You glance down again and catch the crease of worry on his brow. The man is the living embodiment of chivalry; there’s no way he’ll let you keep going without making it his mission to help.

With a sigh, you step down. The lights can wait. “Fine,” you concede. “Knock yourself out, Captain Christmas.”

Steve chuckles, setting the box of ornaments down on a nearby table. He steps up onto the stool, and you’re struck again by just how tall he is. He’s got at least a foot and a half on you, which is something you’re reminded of constantly—like when you have to crane your neck just to look him in the eye. Or when he easily reaches shelves that are practically a mile out of your range.

He’s annoyingly perfect. Not just in the tall, strong, and ridiculously handsome way, but in the kind, thoughtful, and genuine way too. He’s the kind of man who offers his umbrella to strangers in the rain, who remembers how you take your coffee, who actually listens when you talk. And if that weren’t enough, he’s also awkward—adorably so, especially around you.

You suspect it’s because you’re small and he worries about crushing you with a handshake. Or maybe it’s because he thinks you’re fragile, which would be ironic, considering how many missions you’ve both survived. Either way, his awkwardness only fuels your ridiculous, head-over-heels crush.

As Steve strings the lights, you busy yourself unpacking ornaments from the box he brought. Most of them are classics—shiny globes, candy canes, and snowflakes—but there are a few oddities mixed in. A Hulk-shaped bauble makes you snort, and you hold it up for Steve to see.

“Look familiar?” you tease.

He glances down from his perch and grins. “Bet Bruce loves that one.”

“He’s probably going to hide it on the back of the tree,” you reply, setting it aside. Your fingers brush against a different ornament—this one shaped like a little star. It’s simple, but pretty, and you hold it up to admire it. “This one’s cute.”

Steve’s hands falter for a split second as he adjusts the lights. You don’t notice, too focused on the star, but he notices. Oh, he notices. Because you just called something “cute” in that soft, slightly breathless way that makes his chest tighten. He swallows hard and refocuses on the task at hand.

“Y-yeah, it’s nice,” he manages, hoping his voice doesn’t crack.

Why is this so hard?

Steve has faced down alien armies, assassins, and world-ending threats without breaking a sweat, but the thought of confessing his feelings to you is enough to make him panic. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. At the start of the year, he’d made a resolution—a promise to himself—that he would finally tell you how he felt. But every time he’s tried, the words get stuck in his throat.

And now, with Christmas just days away, the deadline he arbitrarily set for himself is looming. The idea of starting another year without telling you makes his stomach twist, but so does the idea of screwing it up. What if you don’t feel the same way? What if he ruins everything?

“Steve?” your voice snaps him out of his spiral.

“Hm?” He blinks down at you, realizing he’s been staring blankly at the half-lit string of lights in his hands.

“You okay?” you ask, your brow furrowed. “You zoned out for a second there.”

“Oh, uh—yeah, I’m fine,” he says quickly, though his ears are burning. “Just thinking.”

“About?” you prompt, tilting your head.

You shouldn’t do that. It’s unfair, how cute you look when you’re curious. It makes it harder for him to keep his cool.

“Nothing important,” he lies, offering a sheepish smile. “How’s the ornament situation?”

You hold up the Hulk bauble again with a smirk. “I think this one’s going front and center.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Bruce is gonna love that.”

You giggle, and the sound is like music to his ears. It’s one of the things he loves most about you—your laugh. It’s warm and infectious, and he’d do just about anything to hear it.

Before he can spiral further into his thoughts, you step closer to hand him the star ornament. “Here,” you say. “This one should go up top.”

Steve takes it, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. It’s nothing, really—just an innocent touch—but it sends a jolt of electricity through him. He wonders if you feel it too, or if he’s imagining things.

“Good choice,” he says, his voice a little quieter now. He focuses on securing the star to the top of the tree, grateful for the distraction. When he’s done, he steps back to admire his work, and you join him, standing so close that your shoulder almost brushes his arm.

“Not bad, Captain,” you say, your tone light but genuine. “I think we’ve got ourselves a pretty solid tree.”

He glances down at you, his heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it always does when you’re near. You’re smiling—bright and proud—and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

“Yeah,” he says softly, more to himself than to you. “It’s perfect.”

You glance up at him, your smile faltering just slightly. There’s something in his expression—something raw and unguarded—that makes your pulse quicken. For a second, you think maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do.

But the moment passes, and Steve clears his throat, stepping away under the guise of tidying up.

“So, uh,” he says awkwardly, bending down to gather the empty ornament boxes. “What’s next on the agenda?”

You blink, trying to shake off the lingering warmth of his gaze. “I think we’re supposed to decorate the common room. Nat said something about needing backup with the garlands.”

“Right,” Steve says, straightening up with the boxes in hand. “Lead the way.”

As you head toward the common room together, you can’t help stealing glances at him. He’s trying so hard to act normal, but you know him well enough to sense when something’s off. There’s a tension in his shoulders, a hesitation in his words.

You wonder what’s on his mind. And you wonder if it has anything to do with the way he looks at you—like you’re the most important thing in the world.

Christmas morning in the Avengers Tower is a mix of chaos and cheer. The common room is alive with laughter and good-natured teasing, wrapping paper scattered across the floor like confetti. The massive Christmas tree glows softly in the corner, its branches weighed down with ornaments and twinkling lights.

Everyone has gathered here to exchange gifts, and the room feels warmer than usual—maybe because of the crackling fireplace, or maybe because of the bonds you all share. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, a pile of unwrapped presents beside you, and your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

Natasha is chuckling as Clint holds up a sweater that has “World’s Okayest Archer” stitched across the front in bold letters. “This is slander,” Clint grumbles, but he’s grinning. “I’m amazing.”

“Sure you are,” Natasha teases, her smirk sharp and playful.

Thor, meanwhile, is marveling at a “World’s Greatest Dad” mug that someone (probably Tony) had sneakily customized to include a picture of Thor holding Stormbreaker like a proud parent. “This,” Thor declares, raising the mug, “is a mighty gift.”

“Very mighty,” Tony quips from his spot on the couch, a Santa hat perched crookedly on his head. “You’re welcome.”

Steve sits near the tree, mostly quiet but smiling at the antics around him. He’s already unwrapped his gifts—a vintage Captain America action figure from Tony (complete with the original shield), a sturdy leather-bound journal from Natasha, and an assortment of hand-knit sweaters from Thor’s mother. He’s grateful for all of them, but his focus isn’t on the gifts anymore. It’s on you.

You’re radiant this morning, your laughter lighting up the room more than the Christmas tree ever could. Steve doesn’t know if it’s the cozy glow of the fireplace or the joy of the season, but something about you seems especially beautiful today. Not that you aren’t beautiful every day—but today, you’re breathtaking.

And it’s making him nervous.

Because tucked beneath the tree is one last gift. A gift for you. A gift from him.

“Looks like that’s the last of it,” Clint says, stretching his arms above his head. “Nice haul this year, guys.”

“Not quite,” Tony interrupts, pointing toward the tree. “There’s still one left under there.”

Everyone turns their attention to the tree, and you lean forward curiously. Sure enough, there’s a single box nestled beneath the branches. It’s wrapped neatly in silver paper, tied with a red ribbon, and it has your name on it.

Your brow furrows as you reach for it. “I don’t remember putting this here.”

“Must’ve been one of us,” Natasha says, though she looks just as intrigued as everyone else. “Check the tag.”

You glance at the label, but it doesn’t give you any clues. It simply says To Y/N—no indication of who it’s from.

“Secret Santa, maybe?” Bruce suggests.

“Someone’s being mysterious,” Tony says, leaning back with a smirk. “Come on, open it. Let’s see what you got.”

You hesitate for a moment, your fingers brushing over the ribbon. Whoever left this for you went out of their way to remain anonymous, and that makes you feel oddly shy. Still, curiosity wins out, and you carefully untie the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping paper.

Inside the box is a smaller velvet box. You blink, your breath catching as you open it.

Nestled inside is a delicate silver necklace, the pendant shaped like a tiny star. It’s simple but stunning, the kind of piece that feels timeless. You stare at it for a moment, your chest tightening.

But that’s not all.

Beneath the necklace, folded carefully, is a sheet of paper. You unfold it slowly, revealing a drawing—a sketch of you, caught mid-laugh. The details are astonishing, from the crinkle of your eyes to the way your hair falls. It’s you, but somehow more: the joy on your face, the warmth in your expression—it’s like the artist captured not just your likeness, but your spirit.

The room falls quiet as you stare at the drawing, your hands trembling slightly.

“Wow,” Natasha murmurs, leaning in for a better look. “That’s... beautiful.”

“It’s incredible,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. You trace the edge of the drawing with your fingertip, your heart racing. “Who...?”

“Not it,” Tony says, raising his hands.

“Wasn’t me,” Clint adds.

Everyone else shakes their heads, except for Steve, who sits frozen, his heart pounding so loudly he’s surprised no one else can hear it.

It was a gamble, leaving the gift anonymously. He couldn’t bring himself to sign his name, not when he was terrified of how you might react. But now, watching the way your eyes glisten as you hold the necklace and the drawing, he’s second-guessing everything.

Should he say something? Should he let you wonder? Should he...?

You glance up, scanning the room. Your gaze lingers on Steve for a moment, and he feels like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly looks away, pretending to adjust the hem of his sweater.

“Well, whoever it’s from,” you say softly, clutching the necklace in your hand, “thank you. It’s... it’s perfect.”

Steve lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Perfect. You think it’s perfect. Relief washes over him, followed by a flicker of pride. He spent weeks working on the drawing, pouring every ounce of his feelings into every pencil stroke. Seeing you appreciate it—cherish it—is more than he could’ve hoped for.

But then you put the necklace on, and his chest tightens all over again. The star catches the light, and it suits you so perfectly that he has to look away before he does something stupid—like stare too long or blurt out the truth in front of everyone.

“Whoever did this really knows you,” Natasha says, eyeing the necklace. “It’s thoughtful.”

“And talented,” Bruce adds, gesturing to the drawing. “That’s some serious skill.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide his reddening face. He’s not used to compliments, especially not ones directed at his art.

“Guess I’ve got a secret admirer,” you joke lightly, though there’s a hint of hope in your voice.

“Or someone with terrible taste,” Tony quips, earning a pillow to the face from Natasha.

The room dissolves into laughter again, and the attention shifts away from you and your mysterious gift. But you’re still holding the drawing, your fingers brushing over the lines and shading. It’s so personal, so intimate, that it makes your heart ache in the best way.

And Steve? Steve sits quietly, watching you from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this secret, but for now, he’s content to see you happy. Even if you never find out it was him, this moment is enough.

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

The days between Christmas and New Year’s feel suspended in time—a cozy limbo filled with leftover cookies, twinkling lights, and lazy mornings. At the Avengers Tower, the pace has slowed to something resembling normalcy, with everyone enjoying a much-needed break.

You, however, have been anything but relaxed. Not since Christmas morning, when you opened that mysterious gift.

The necklace still rests around your neck, the tiny star pendant catching the light whenever you move. The drawing that accompanied it is safely tucked away in your room, though you’ve stared at it countless times since then. You can’t stop thinking about it—or, more specifically, about who gave it to you.

For days, you’ve replayed the moment in your mind, analyzing every detail. The craftsmanship of the drawing, the thoughtfulness of the gift—it could only be from someone who knows you well. Someone who cares about you deeply. Someone who, despite their care, wanted to stay anonymous.

And you have a pretty good idea of who that someone is.

Steve.

It’s the only explanation that makes sense. He’s been acting... different around you ever since Christmas. Quieter. More awkward. You’ve caught him stealing glances when he thinks you’re not looking, and when you smile at him, he stammers like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The thought that Steve might like you—that he might really like you—makes your heart race. You’ve had a crush on him for what feels like forever, but you never imagined he might feel the same way. Now that you’ve started piecing things together, it feels almost too good to be true.

And yet, there’s still no confirmation. No grand confession. No slip of the tongue. Nothing to cement your theory. Which is why you decide to take matters into your own hands.

It’s late afternoon when you start your search for Steve. You’ve checked the gym, the kitchen, and even the lounge, but he’s nowhere to be found. Finally, you decide to check his room—a bold move, but you’re running out of options.

When you knock and get no response, you hesitantly push the door open.

“Steve?” you call softly, peeking inside.

The room is empty, neat and orderly as always. The bed is made, the desk is tidy, and his shield leans against the wall like it belongs in a museum. You step inside, glancing around for any sign of where he might be.

Your gaze lands on the leather journal sitting on his desk. The one Natasha gifted him for Christmas. It’s open, a pencil resting on top of its pages.

You know you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But curiosity gets the better of you, and you find yourself drawn to the desk.

“It’s just a peek,” you mutter to yourself, your fingers brushing over the leather cover.

The page it’s open to stops you dead in your tracks. It’s a drawing—of you.

Not just any drawing, either. It’s almost identical to the one you received on Christmas morning, the same detail, the same expression, the same care in every line. Your breath catches as you realize what this means.

Steve drew this. Steve gave you the necklace. Steve has been hiding his feelings for you all this time.

A smile tugs at your lips, and a thrill runs through you. He likes you. He really likes you. And yet, he hasn’t said a word. Typical Steve—too noble, too careful, too worried about messing things up.

You close the journal carefully, placing the pencil back where you found it. You won’t confront him about this—not yet. No, you have a much better idea.

If Steve won’t confess, then you’ll make it impossible for him not to. And if that means teasing him a little, well... all’s fair in love and war.

You find Steve in the lounge a little while later, sitting on the couch with a book in hand. He looks up when you enter, and his face brightens instantly, though he tries to hide it.

“Hey,” you say, leaning casually against the doorway.

“Hey,” he replies, setting the book aside. “Looking for something?”

“Actually, I was looking for you,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside him. You’re closer than usual, your knee brushing against his. He stiffens slightly, his eyes darting to yours.

“Oh?” he says, his voice a little higher than usual. “What for?”

You shrug, tilting your head as you study him. He looks nervous—adorably so—and it only fuels your confidence.

“Just wanted to see how you’re doing,” you say, your tone light and sweet. “You’ve been kind of quiet lately.”

“Have I?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“Mm-hmm.” You reach out to adjust the collar of his sweater, your fingers grazing his neck. He freezes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

“You sure everything’s okay?” you ask, your voice dipping slightly.

“I—I’m fine,” he stammers, his cheeks turning pink. “Really.”

You lean back, feigning innocence. “Good. I’d hate to think something was bothering you.”

He nods, clearly unsure of how to respond.

You spend the rest of the evening finding subtle ways to fluster him. Leaning closer than necessary when you talk. Touching his arm when you laugh. Complimenting him on everything from his sweater to his hair. By the time you part ways, Steve looks like he’s been through an emotional whirlwind.

The next day, you up the ante.

Steve is in the kitchen making breakfast when you join him, your hair slightly tousled and your sweater slipping off one shoulder. He nearly drops the pan he’s holding when he sees you.

“Morning,” you say, your voice soft and syrupy.

“G-good morning,” he replies, turning back to the stove.

You step closer, peeking over his shoulder. “Whatcha making?”

“Just eggs,” he says, his grip tightening on the spatula.

“Smells good,” you say, resting a hand on his back. You feel the muscles beneath his shirt tense, and it takes all your willpower not to laugh.

“Want some?” he asks, his voice strained.

“Sure,” you say, flashing him a smile. “Thanks, Steve. You’re the best.”

His ears turn red, and you bite your lip to keep from grinning.

By the third day, Steve is visibly unraveling.

You’ve spent the last forty-eight hours being as sweet, flirty, and touchy as you can manage without outright declaring your feelings. Every time you brush against him, compliment him, or catch him staring, he looks like he’s about to combust.

You find him in the training room that afternoon, throwing punches at a heavy bag like it owes him money. He doesn’t notice you at first, and you take a moment to admire him—his broad shoulders, his focused expression, the way his sweat-soaked shirt clings to his chest.

“Working hard?” you call out, stepping into the room.

Steve pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly,” you say, walking toward him. “What’d that poor bag do to deserve this?”

“Just... letting off some steam,” he says, wiping his forehead with his arm.

“Need a sparring partner?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes widen slightly. “You want to spar? With me?”

“Why not?” you say, stepping closer. “Unless you’re scared I’ll kick your ass.”

A laugh escapes him, and you feel a spark of satisfaction. “I’d like to see you try.”

You grin, stepping onto the mat. “Suit up, Rogers.”

After a playful (and very one-sided) sparring session, Steve is more flustered than ever. You’re lying on the mat, catching your breath, and you turn to look at him.

“You’re holding back,” you tease.

“Didn’t want to hurt you,” he replies, still trying to recover from your relentless teasing.

“You’re sweet, Steve,” you say, your voice soft. “Really sweet.”

He looks at you, and for a moment, the tension between you is palpable. You’re half-tempted to just kiss him and get it over with, but you want him to make the first move.

“I should... hit the showers,” he says abruptly, standing and heading for the door.

As he disappears, you smile to yourself. He’s close to breaking. Very close.

And when he does, you’ll be ready.

It’s New Year’s Eve at the Avengers Tower, and the entire building is buzzing with excitement. Tony, true to form, has outdone himself, transforming the common areas into a glittering wonderland of gold, silver, and twinkling lights. The air hums with music, laughter, and the promise of a fresh start as the year draws to a close.

You’re in your room, standing in front of the mirror with a slight frown as you adjust your dress. The sparkly red fabric hugs your figure perfectly, but the zipper in the back refuses to cooperate. Despite twisting, stretching, and trying every awkward angle imaginable, you can’t quite reach it.

With a sigh, you grab your phone and type out a quick message:

Hey Steve, can you come to my room for a sec? Need a hand.

You press send before you can overthink it, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. You already know he won’t say no—he never does when it’s you.

Steve arrives less than two minutes later, knocking lightly on your door.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” His voice, deep and warm, filters through the door.

“Come in!” you call out, keeping your tone casual. You hear the door creak open, followed by the soft sound of his boots against the floor.

“Y/N, I—” Steve starts, but the words die on his lips when he sees you.

You turn to face him, clutching the front of your dress to keep it from slipping down. His eyes widen, and his breath catches in his throat as he takes you in. The dress is a vibrant, glittering red that hugs your curves like a second skin, the hem brushing mid-thigh even with the extra height your heels give you. Your hair is styled elegantly, soft waves cascading over your shoulders, and your makeup highlights your features just enough to leave him completely speechless.

“Wow,” he finally manages, his voice barely above a whisper. His cheeks flush a deep pink, and he looks away, as if giving you privacy in a moment that clearly isn’t private.

You bite back a smile, pretending not to notice his reaction. “Thanks for coming. I need a little help.”

Steve clears his throat, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “Help with...?”

“The zipper,” you say, turning around to show him the back of your dress. You hold the fabric up with your hands, revealing the delicate, stubborn zipper that sits halfway down your back. “I can’t reach it.”

“Oh.” Steve’s voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat again. “Right. Sure. I can do that.”

You hear him take a hesitant step closer, and your pulse quickens. There’s something thrilling about having him this close, about knowing he’s flustered because of you. He smells like clean soap and cedarwood, and the sheer size of him behind you is enough to make your breath hitch.

His large, calloused hands brush against your back as he takes hold of the zipper, and you have to resist the urge to shiver at the contact. He hesitates for a moment, clearly nervous, before carefully tugging the zipper upward. His fingers graze your skin as he works, and the sensation sends a rush of warmth through you.

“Is... is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice rough around the edges.

“Perfect,” you murmur, glancing at him over your shoulder. His face is closer than you expected, and the intensity in his blue eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

The zipper finally reaches the top, and Steve’s hands linger for a moment longer than necessary before he steps back, his gaze darting anywhere but at you.

“There,” he says, his voice tight. “All set.”

You turn to face him, giving a little spin. “What do you think?”

Steve stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like he’s searching for the right words. “You... You look amazing,” he says at last, his voice full of awe.

His honesty makes you blush, and you grin. “Thank you. You’re not looking too bad yourself, you know.”

Steve glances down at his outfit—a crisp navy suit that fits him perfectly—and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks,” he says, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re welcome, Captain,” you tease, stepping closer. “Shall we head to the party?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he stammers, stepping aside to let you pass. His hand hovers near the small of your back as you leave the room, but he doesn’t quite touch you.

The elevator ride to the party is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You steal glances at Steve as he stands beside you, his shoulders stiff and his jaw clenched like he’s holding something back.

“You okay?” you ask, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“Yeah,” he says quickly, though the slight crack in his voice betrays him. He clears his throat, flashing you a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine.”

“Steve.” You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” he protests, but the redness in his ears says otherwise.

You decide to let him off the hook—for now. The elevator doors slide open, revealing the main event: Tony’s New Year’s Eve extravaganza.

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Steve arrive. The common room has been transformed into a glamorous ballroom, complete with a dance floor, a live band, and a fully stocked bar. Guests in glittering dresses and sharp suits mingle beneath cascading strings of fairy lights, and the energy in the room is electric.

“Y/N!” Natasha calls out, making her way toward you with a drink in hand. She gives you a once-over and lets out a low whistle. “You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say, twirling for effect. “You look amazing too.”

Natasha smirks. “Oh, I know.”

Steve hangs back slightly, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he watches you with a soft smile. He doesn’t seem to notice the way Natasha’s eyes flick to him, her smirk widening.

“Well, don’t you two make a picture-perfect couple,” she says casually, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re not a couple,” Steve blurts out, his face turning an impressive shade of red.

Natasha raises her glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, Rogers.”

She winks at you before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you and Steve standing awkwardly by the entrance.

“She’s relentless,” Steve mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She’s not wrong, though,” you say, your tone light and teasing.

Steve looks at you sharply, his eyes wide. “What?”

You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “Relax, Steve. I’m just messing with you.”

His shoulders relax slightly, but the pink in his cheeks doesn’t fade.

The night unfolds with laughter, dancing, and plenty of drinks. You make a point to stay close to Steve, brushing against him whenever you can, leaning into him when you laugh, and catching his gaze across the room. Each time, his reaction is the same—wide-eyed, flustered, and utterly endearing.

At one point, you drag him to the dance floor, your hand firmly clasped in his. He protests at first, claiming he’s not much of a dancer, but you refuse to take no for an answer.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure him, pulling him close as the band starts a slow, jazzy number. “Just follow my lead.”

Steve hesitates, but when you rest your hands on his shoulders, he relents. His large hands settle on your waist, and the two of you sway to the music, moving in perfect sync despite his earlier protests.

“You’re better at this than you let on,” you say, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Steve chuckles nervously. “You’re easy to dance with.”

The compliment makes your heart flutter, and you tighten your grip on his shoulders. For a moment, it feels like the rest of the party fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

You’re about to say something—something bold, something that’s been on the tip of your tongue for days—when the song ends, and the moment is interrupted by a burst of applause.

Steve steps back, his hands dropping to his sides. “That was... nice,” he says, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you agree, your chest tightening. “It was.”

You’re not sure how much longer you can keep up this game of subtlety and teasing. The clock is ticking, and the New Year is just around the corner. If Steve doesn’t make a move soon, you might just have to do it for him.

The party is in full swing as midnight approaches, the energy in the room building with each passing minute. The band has picked up its tempo, and laughter and clinking glasses echo through the air. You and Steve have stayed close all night, and now the two of you make your way toward the bar for a drink before the countdown begins.

“What’ll it be?” Steve asks, glancing at the menu. He’s been doing everything he can to appear calm, but the slight tremor in his voice and the way he keeps running a hand through his hair are clear giveaways.

“Champagne,” you say with a smile, leaning casually against the bar. “It’s tradition, isn’t it?”

“Good choice,” he says, signaling to the bartender. Moments later, two glasses of champagne appear in front of you, the golden liquid fizzing enticingly. You pick yours up and raise it in a mock toast.

“To the end of a very interesting year,” you say. “And the start of a better one.”

Steve clinks his glass against yours, his blue eyes warm. “I’ll drink to that.”

You take a sip, savoring the bubbly sweetness. The two of you fall into easy conversation, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. That is, until your eyes drift upward—and you notice the sprig of mistletoe hanging above you.

Your heart skips a beat, and a mischievous smile curls at the edges of your lips.

“Steve,” you say, your voice tinged with amusement.

“Yeah?” he asks, oblivious, before taking another sip of his champagne.

You tilt your head upward, your gaze fixed on the mistletoe. His eyes follow yours, and when he realizes what you’re looking at, he freezes.

“Oh,” he says, his voice barely audible. The tips of his ears turn bright red, and he looks away quickly, as if avoiding eye contact will somehow make the situation disappear.

“Did you know Tony hung mistletoe all over the tower?” you ask innocently, though the twinkle in your eyes betrays your intent.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Uh, yeah. I might’ve noticed. He’s… thorough.”

You take a step closer, your heels clicking softly against the floor. Even with them on, you still have to crane your neck to look up at him. He’s towering above you, his broad shoulders blocking out everything else, and the nervous way he’s fidgeting is almost too cute to bear.

“So,” you say, your tone teasing. “What are we supposed to do when we’re under mistletoe?”

Steve swallows hard, his eyes darting between you and the small sprig above. “I—uh—well, I think… traditionally… people…”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting patiently as he struggles to form a coherent sentence.

“They kiss,” he finally blurts out, his voice cracking slightly.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “They do,” you agree. “It’s tradition, after all.”

His blush deepens, and he looks like he’s about two seconds away from bolting. You can see the internal battle playing out in his mind, the way he’s torn between his feelings and his nerves. The countdown begins in the background, voices ringing out in unison:

“Ten!”

“Steve,” you say, stepping even closer. “You know what I think?”

He blinks, staring down at you like a deer caught in headlights. “W-what?”

“Nine!”

“I think you’re overthinking this.”

“Eight!”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. You’re not sure whether to be exasperated or endeared by how utterly flustered he is.

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Steve,” you say firmly, reaching up to place a hand on his chest. You can feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm, and it sends a thrill through you.

“Five!”

“If you don’t kiss me right now,” you whisper, your voice low and teasing, “I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Four!”

“Three!”

Still, he hesitates, his lips parting as if to speak but no words escaping. You sigh dramatically, rising onto your tiptoes and tugging him down by his tie.

“Two!”

Before he can protest—or, more likely, overthink himself into oblivion—you press your lips to his.

The kiss is soft and sweet at first, your lips fitting perfectly against his. His initial surprise quickly melts away, and his hands come to rest lightly on your waist, steadying you as you lean into him. Even with your heels, he has to bend down significantly to meet you, and the height difference is so absurdly Steve-and-you that it makes you smile against his lips.

When you deepen the kiss slightly, sliding your hands up to his shoulders, he lets out a quiet, surprised sound that sends a rush of warmth through you. He tastes faintly of champagne, and the sheer rightness of the moment makes your head spin.

The countdown fades into a deafening roar of cheers and applause as the clock strikes midnight, but you barely notice. For this moment, it’s just you and Steve, wrapped up in a world of your own making.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless. Steve looks down at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, disbelief, and pure adoration.

“I…” he starts, his voice shaky. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

You laugh softly, your hands still resting on his broad shoulders. “You don’t say.”

“I mean, I—uh—I’ve liked you for a while now,” he stammers, his words tumbling out in a rush. “A long while, actually. Since before last Christmas. And I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how, and then the gift—I mean, the necklace—I thought maybe it would say it for me, but then you didn’t say anything, and I—”

“Steve,” you interrupt gently, placing a finger over his lips to stop his rambling. He freezes, his eyes wide and uncertain.

You smile, rising onto your tiptoes once more to kiss him again. This time, it’s slower, sweeter, a silent reassurance that you feel the same way. When you pull back, you whisper against his lips:

“Happy New Year, Steve.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes shining with so much emotion it makes your chest ache. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

And as the room around you erupts into celebration, you know this is going to be the start of something truly amazing.

I'm sorry (not really) but I can't imagine Steve as nothing else than a softie, like, I don't know where you all see the big dominant man...I see a puppy

[moonxytcn]

Hellooo, here is my request! We are a new upcoming artist in the industry and we attend the grammys for the first time. Some guy is interviewing us and asks a really inappropriate question which makes us uncomfortable. And before we could even attempt to answer the question billie so happens to notice how uncomfortable we are and steps into the conversion saving us just on time. This is the first time we ever meet billie, and some how by the end of the night billie gives us her number in hopes of being able to see us again 🫶🏻

rescue on the red carpet

| Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – Billie saves you from an uncomfortable interviewer question

tags & warnings – just fluffy

a/n – hiii <3 it's been a while since I wrote anything hihi, but I'm back, and thank you so much for the request anon!! and I'm sorry it took so long to post, I hope you enjoy this <3

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned Post

   ㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

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The lights of the Grammy Awards shimmer and sparkle like nothing you've ever seen before. You're standing on the red carpet, the air electric with excitement and anticipation. It's your first time here, and the grandeur of it all feels almost surreal. You're a newcomer in the music industry, and being nominated for Best New Artist is a dream come true. Your heart races as you take in the dazzling sea of celebrities, flashing cameras, and enthusiastic reporters.

The crimson carpet under your feet seems to stretch on for miles, lined with eager fans and journalists clamoring for a glimpse of the stars. You feel like you're in a dream, walking amongst giants in the music industry. Your dress, an elegant blend of shimmer and sophistication, clings perfectly to your form, making you feel both powerful and vulnerable at once.

As you make your way down the carpet, a charming interviewer from a popular entertainment network beckons you over. His smile is wide, his demeanor polished, but something about his eyes makes you uneasy.

"Welcome to the Grammys!" He exclaims, holding the microphone out toward you. "How does it feel to be here tonight?"

You smile graciously, taking a breath to steady yourself. "It's truly an honor to be here among so many talented artists. I'm just grateful for the opportunity."

The interviewer nods, then leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. "You've had quite a rise to fame this year. Many are calling you the next big thing. How are you handling all this attention? And." He pauses, his grin turning a shade sharper, "there have been rumors about your personal life. Care to comment on any of those?"

The question catches you off guard. Your mind races as you try to think of a polite way to deflect. Rumors? About your personal life? You’ve tried hard to keep your private life out of the spotlight. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you feel your confidence begin to waver.

Before you can find the words, the interviewer presses on, his smile now verging on predatory. "There's a particularly juicy one about a certain collaboration turning into something more... intimate. What do you have to say about that?"

You freeze, acutely aware of the cameras zooming in, capturing every moment of your discomfort. You can hear the crowd's murmurs, feel the eyes of countless onlookers on you. You’re cornered, and the vulnerability is almost paralyzing. Your pulse quickens, and your rehearsed poise starts to crumble.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, a voice cuts through the tension.

"Hey, I think that's enough of the tabloid questions, don't you?"

You turn to see Billie Eilish stepping forward, her iconic green hair and bold fashion sense unmistakable. Her expression is calm yet commanding, her gaze steady as she addresses the interviewer.

The interviewer falters, momentarily taken aback by Billie's intervention. "Oh, Billie! Of course, it's great to see you. I was just asking about—"

Billie interrupts smoothly, her tone firm but friendly. "I know what you were asking, but tonight's about celebrating achievements, not spreading gossip. Why not focus on her incredible music instead?"

Her words hang in the air, a lifeline thrown your way. You catch Billie's eye, and she offers you a reassuring smile. It's like a wave of relief washes over you, the tension easing from your shoulders.

The interviewer, now visibly flustered, clears his throat and shifts his attention back to you. "Right, right. Apologies for that. So, tell us about your album and the inspiration behind it."

You take a deep breath, grateful for Billie's timely intervention. With renewed confidence, you talk about your work, your passion for music, and the journey that led you here. Billie stands by your side, her presence a comforting shield against the prying questions that had threatened to throw you off balance.

As the interview concludes, you thank the reporter and turn to Billie, who is already flashing her signature grin.

"Thank you." You say, gratitude evident in your voice. "I didn't know what to do back there."

Billie chuckles softly, shrugging off the praise. "No worries. I've been in this industry long enough to know how these things go. You handled it well."

Her words are genuine, and they bolster your spirits. You find yourself smiling back at her, the tension from earlier fading away.

The rest of the evening passes in a whirlwind of excitement and celebration. You watch performances that leave you awestruck, rub shoulders with artists you've admired for years, and even manage to snag a selfie with a few of your musical idols.

As the night draws to a close, you find yourself once again crossing paths with Billie. She's surrounded by a small group of admirers and friends, but when she spots you, she waves you over.

"Hey! How was the rest of your night?" She asks, her energy as infectious as ever.

"It was incredible." You reply, feeling more at ease than you had at the start of the evening. "Thank you again for stepping in back there. It means a lot."

Billie dismisses your gratitude with a wave of her hand. "Seriously, don't mention it. I've been there. And besides, we're all in this together, right?"

You nod, feeling a connection with her that goes beyond just the shared experience of the industry. There's something genuine about Billie that makes you feel seen and understood.

As the crowd around you begins to thin out, Billie leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a more private tone. "Hey, if you ever want to hang out or need someone to talk to about the craziness of this industry, here's my number."

She hands you a small card with her number scrawled on it, the gesture both casual and meaningful. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of having a direct line to someone as renowned and talented as Billie Eilish.

"Thank you." You say, tucking the card safely into your purse. "I’d love that."

Billie gives you a nod, her eyes twinkling with sincerity. "Great. I hope we can catch up soon."

With that, she waves goodbye, disappearing into the remaining crowd, leaving you with a newfound sense of hope and excitement. The night may have started with uncertainty, but it's ending with the promise of friendship and the potential for so much more.

As you make your way out of the venue, you can't help but smile. Your first Grammy night has been unforgettable, not just because of the awards and performances but because you've found an ally in one of the industry's brightest stars.

And as you step into the cool night air, you know this is just the beginning of an incredible journey.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

hi! so i loved the whats in between fic (because everyone does) and i wanted to ask if you could write something like the spiderteens watches broke and they cant get back home so instead of waiting it out in the spider society place they go to miguel and readers house and sleep over! and ofc miguel complaining about just having them fix the watches but that would take too long

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Miles is on a mission that ends up going awry right as it's about to end, and with his watch shattered there's no way to get back home. The answer? Stay at you and Miguel's shared home for the night :3

Warnings: None!! It's really fluffy, Miguel is soft with Miles (I'm sorry I couldn't help it hhhh)

It's late at night as Miles walks through the Spider Society HQ. Far too late for anyone to still be around, everyone was already at home in their own universes. He on the other hand was coming back from a mission that went awry.

It was supposed to be easy. Pop in, pack up the anomaly and head back to drop them off before going home. But for the last 7 hours the villain managed to evade his grasp until he finally cornered them on the edge of town at a shipping dock. But somehow on the trip back to HQ the villain managed to escape both the webbing they were stuck in and the force field keeping them trapped.

Had it not been for the fact that the villain glitched out mid-fight, HQ might be a lot worse for wear than it was. Luckily Miles managed to recapture the villain and place them into the holding area, but not without a cost.

In his hands was his watch, broken to pieces. He already loathed the lashing out he was about to receive from the Leader of the Society, but since there was no way for him to get home otherwise there was no avoiding the conversation.

Making his way through the doorway, he’s surprised to see you analyzing the screens instead of Miguel, having already mentally prepared for the scolding he was about to receive.

Right before he was about to open his mouth to speak, his form glitches out as he groans in pain, his atoms clearly unhappy to be existing in a universe that wasn’t his own.

“Miles!” you say, concern washing over your expression as you finally take note of him. Swinging down from the platform, you grasp his shoulders keeping him upright. “Are you alright? Is there something wrong with your watch?” you ask as you check him over like a worried mother.

“Something wrong? More like it's in multiple different pieces,” Lyla says, popping up behind him and looking at the broken watch he was trying to hide.

Miles’ expression grows even more sheepish as he brings his hands around to show you.

“I’m really sorry, the anomaly I was trying to capture escaped the trap somehow on the way back to HQ,” he says, and your eyes widen as you glance back to your screens. At that moment his body glitches out again, and you look at him worriedly. Then your expression brightens as you remember something.

“Give me one sec, sweetie,” you say with a kind smile before swinging back up toward the platform. Searching around, you reach into Miguel’s top drawer and find just what you were looking for.

“Hey Miles, catch!” you say, tossing him the bracelet. The Spider Society ‘Day Pass’ as Peter liked to call it. Relief immediately washes over his face as he slips the bracelet on, and he says a small ‘thank you’ as you swing back to his level.

“You don’t happen to have any spare watches lying around, do you?” he asks, shuffling back and forth on his feet. A nervous tick you seem to have picked on in the time you have known him.

“Typically we do…but Jess brought in a few new recruits the other day so we just ran out. Lyla, what’s the status on the production of those new watches?” you ask, and she pops over onto your shoulder as she scrolls through her own screens.

“Hm…it should be about another 16 hours until they’re done. We had to have some parts shipped in from the city which put them behind schedule,” she explains.

“Usually we would just fix it for you rather than you getting a brand new watch, but considering the state of yours…” you say, taking the broken watch into your own hands. The screen was shattered, the wristband was practically nonexistent and somehow the circuit board was hanging out in pieces.

“What on Earth even happened to this? Did the anomaly chew it up and spit it out again or something,” you say with a laugh, and Miles only chuckles nervously.

“Yes, actually. That’s exactly what happened,” he winces, and you only laugh harder for a few moments before pulling yourself together, your expression becoming a touch more serious.

“You’re not hurt anywhere, right?” you worry over him, turning him from side to side to check him over. You had a soft spot for the young Spiders here at the society and weren’t afraid to show it. Miguel had one too, though he loathed to admit it.

“No, I’m alright. It’s just my watch that isn’t,” he says, and you smile at him understandingly.

“Alright, but if I sense that you’re lying to me you’re heading straight to the infirmary young man, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he says, and you laugh softly.

“Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old,” you say.

“Sorry, ma’am! Wait…” his eyes widen slightly as he realizes his mistake. You only snort.

“We’ll work on it, Miles,” you grin. “The only issue right now is how to get you home…Lyla, is there anyone still at HQ? I left my watch at home since I thought I’d only be staying on base today,” you ask.

“Nope! Sorry, ma’am,” she says jokingly, and you narrow your eyes at her playfully. “Everyone’s missions finished up early today, Miles was the last one back.”

“Damn,” you say as you run through things you could do.

“Since there’s no way to get you back to your universe until the watches finish up…since it’s not too long, how would you feel about staying at me and Miguel’s house for the night? I was about to head back when you came in,” you suggest, and Miles’ face drops at the suggestion.

“Yours and Miguel’s house?” he asks. He knew the two of you were together, you had revealed you were married a few months back but he didn’t think he would be staying at your shared home.

“No offence, but there is no way Miguel would be happy to have somebody staying the night, let alone me,” he says quickly, and you give him a sympathetic look.

“Well, it's a good thing it's not only his house, it's mine too. And I’m inviting you to stay the night, okay? I don’t want you staying at HQ alone, there’s nowhere to sleep unless you want to rest on a hard pillar all night and we have a guest room you can stay at,” you explain, but Miles’ expression is still unsure.

“Look, I know the two of you didn’t exactly get off on the right foot when you first met, but I can give you my word when I say that you are one of the few people he tolerates even if he doesn’t show it. Okay Miles?” you say, and while he doesn’t look like he fully believes you quite yet, he finally relents.

“Alright,” he says, and you pat his shoulder warmly.

“Alright,” you say with a smile. “C’mon, let’s head to my car and we’ll head back to my place, yeah?”

“He won’t be angry that I’m there…right?” Miles asks as he fidgets a bit as he settles into the passenger seat.

“Not on my watch,” you chuckle. “He had the day off, he should be in a great mood. But you know, a lot of his anger is just a front for the things he’s been through. He doesn’t like people getting close to him, and while I admit it isn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, we all deal with grief differently. Do you get what I mean?” you explain as you drive back home.

“Yeah…yeah, I do,” he says softly, and you smile sympathetically as you glance over at him.

Despite the good work that everyone does at the Spider Society, being heroes in their own worlds, they all have some of the most difficult lives. Filled with suffering, grief, secrets and loss. It was the lives they were dealt by the hands of fate, and though that fate is shared across the multiverse it didn’t make it any less hard.

“He’s hard on you and your friends because you’re young and he thinks he can mould you into the heroes he wants you to be, which isn’t right and I tell him that often. But it also means he thinks you all have greater potential beyond what you can see, and he does care…even if he struggles to show it. Don’t worry too much, sweetheart,” you say. You knew you were rambling, but you just wanted to ease his worries at least a bit. He nods before his stomach interrupts the conversation.

You laugh a bit as a flustered expression washes over his face.

“Hungry? I’ll whip up something for a late-night dinner, I’m pretty hungry myself. How does that sound?” you say warmly, and he nods.

“…Thank you, really. I’m grateful you’re doing all this for me, you really didn’t have to,” he says, and you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it, Miles. I quite adore you and your little friends, even if you do get up to the most trouble,” you say, memories of them and all their pranks around HQ playing through your head as you pull up to your driveway.

The house was a bit outside of the main city, somewhere quiet and less industrial than the heart of Nueva York. The lights were still on in the living room, indicating that Miguel hadn’t yet gone to bed which was to be expected. He always waited up for you to come home, (not to mention he had the worst sleep schedule).

“C’mon sweetheart,” you say, stepping out of the car. But you notice Miles’ expression, looking absolutely terrified even though he tried his best to hide it. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Miles, you’ve been here before. I promise it’s alright, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, finally smiling a bit.

You both walk up the front steps, and you unlock the door like you’ve done so many times before.

“Mi vida,” you hear Miguel’s voice say as he appears around the corner. It washes over you like a warm summer breeze, and you feel the tension leave your body as you finally return home. You can’t help the soft smile that plays across your face.

“Hello, darling,” you say, and he can’t help but smile back.

“Now…I know I didn’t give you a heads up but,” you say as you pull Miles out from where he was hiding behind the front door. Immediately Miguel’s expression drops slightly, not so much in anger but more so in annoyance that there was someone there to interrupt his time with his wife.

“Before you say anything, Miles’ watch broke on the way back from a mission, and you know that the new watches are still in production since we ran out a few days ago so I figured since they would be done relatively soon, he can stay the night and head back to his universe in the morning?” you say, not so much asking but telling him much to his dismay.

For a moment he only sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at you. He could never stay upset at you, at least not for long.

“While a warning would have been nice, mi alma,” he scolds lightly, and you grin sheepishly.

“You can stay the night Miles, though it would do you well to not break any more watches in the future,” he chastises, and Miles straightens up almost comically.

“Yes, sir! I’m really sorry about that, the villain managed to escape the trap somehow and managed to bite it off of my arm before I could get away, and then it got really hectic back at HQ but don’t worry though because there isn’t too much damage, and I managed to clean up the most of it but there might still be some debris around and-” he rambles nervously, but Miguel’s snort of amusement interrupts him.

“Look kid, I get it. Mistakes happen, just don’t make it a point to break Society's property too often, yeah?” Miguel says a kind expression on his face that soothes Miles’ nerves.

“Yes, sir!” he says immediately.

“Don’t call me sir, it makes me feel old. Miguel is fine,” he replied, and you laugh slightly at the fact that you said the same thing earlier.

“Come inside already Miles, or are you planning to spend the night on our porch,” you say, pulling him in gently by the wrist.

“Are gorditas alright? I know they’re not exactly dinner food but I’m craving them,” you ask him, noticing Miguel’s expression light up at the mention of them, almost identical to the expression on Miles’ face.

“Gorditas? They’re my favourite!” Miles says, and you smile as you head into the kitchen to whip them up.

“Behave, you two!” you call out as you leave them to their own devices in the living room.

~

Before long, the late dinner is served. Small talk and banter are tossed around the table as you all eat together, then you usher Miles off to bed like a worried Mother given the late hour before heading off to bed yourself with Miguel by your side.

“That was quite the surprise today, mi vida,” Miguel says as you join him in bed, Miles all settled in the guest room and snoring away.

“I know…but he’s a good kid and I felt bad leaving him at HQ alone,” you say sheepishly, peering up to look at him.

“Lyla’s there…” he trails off, and you smack him playfully.

“Miguel,” you chastise, and he raises his hands in surrender as you snort. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” he says, and you just shake your head with a smile.

“I felt bad, you know?” you say softly, and he turns a bit more to listen to you speak.

“This life we all live here at the Society? It’s hard, especially for the young ones. I didn’t want him to feel alone in a universe that isn’t even his own, this life is lonely enough as is,” you voice your thoughts. It really was hard, living this life and protecting the canon at the expense of other Spiders’ suffering. Anything you could do for them you would do, to make things at least a bit easier. It’s why you were pretty much Miguel’s right hand alongside Jess, you were the gentle touch paired with his cold calculated self.

“You really do have a soft spot for them, don’t you?” Miguel asks, and you chuckle softly.

“I do, but don’t pretend that I don’t notice you do too my love,” you say, and he scoffs slightly before glancing away. But by now you knew that was one of his tells that he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m not soft, querida,” he says, and you give him a knowing look to which he switches off the lights to avoid.

“Whatever you say, tough guy,” you say before snuggling in closer, a content smile on your face as you feel yourself drift off to sleep in his arms.

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid,@remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex,@chimpkinnuggies ,@rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose

A/N: I can't help it, Miles is just so precious I had to have the reader be motherly with him lol. Thanks for reading! And I apologize for the delay in requests, it's a teensy bit overwhelming but I promise I am working on them!!

[janetbrown711]

I Know It's Over

!!! Sonic Movie 3 Spoilers !!!

After the battle, Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are taken back to London to regroup with Maddie and Tom, all the while guilt is threatening to eat Tails alive.

tw for injuries but nothing too graphic is stated as there is no mention of blood but there is mention of medical equipment and yelping in pain and yeah

Ao3 Link

Tails was a scientist, this was true, but even he couldn’t tell which part of him hurt the most as he laid crashed in a cornfield in the middle of who-knows-where. He felt lightheaded, that much was obvious, but there was also a tingling sensation crawling through every fibre of his skin that made him honestly want to shrivel up forever (or at least just for a nap). Not to mention, there was something happening that made it harder for him to breathe– like a bruised rib or something. It was hard to analyze when every part of him was this level of ouch.

It took a minute to realize he was laying on someone– that someone being Knuckles– who had his arms wrapped around him and Sonic. He couldn’t help but feel bad for him– that he had to burn up to make up for Tails’ failures, instead of staying to help finish the problem with the Eclip–

Holy cow.

“Sonic, look!” Tails instantly urged, needing someone else to confirm what he was seeing too.

Tails had never seen something so beautiful yet tragic in the earth’s night sky. The remains of the canon now looked like the beginning of a whole new galaxy– or maybe a star was a better comparison. Either way, he was actually relieved Knuckles got out of there before any of that happened…

Then again, not everyone got out.

“Shadow and Robotnik… they sacrificed themselves to save everyone,” he put together, even though it made his head spin worse, and a weight he hadn’t noticed pressed harder on his chest.

“‘You always have a choice,’” Sonic quoted, a distant look in his eyes, before he suddenly shook it off. “Guys, I’m– I’m sorry for running away like that, I shouldn’t have left you behind…”

Tails almost wanted to laugh, wanting to point out he basically left Knuckles behind too, to become a part of… of that…

He didn’t, though (though the weight pressed harder).

“...Can you two ever forgive me?” Sonic asked, bleary eyed.

Tails didn’t blame or think less of him, of course. He just about wanted to cry too, from sheer exhaustion if nothing else.

Knuckles found a way to smile though, which was saying something. “Of course. We are ‘Team Sonic’, after all.” He punched Sonic lightly, which still made the hedgehog wince, before Sonic pulled the warrior in for a hug Tails was quick to join.

“I think just ‘Team’ works,” Sonic eventually said with a teary laugh that got Tails laughing too, but for not too long due to the burning and aching and ow.

Despite it feeling good to be wrapped up safe in arms that cared for him, Tails was relieved when it broke, since he didn’t really think he could stand the ache much longer. He sunk back to the ground with a wince as he painfully tried peeling off his backpack.

Knuckles noticed his struggle and took the bag off for him, handing it over without a word.

“Thanks.” Tails smiled weakly, quickly making note of all the scorched fur and burnt quills on him, before finding his Miles Electric. “I’m gonna send Tom and Maddie our coordinates so we can get out of here.”

He could feel Knuckles and Sonic looking at him after he said that though, and it took him embarrassingly long to realize he said–

Sonic was the one to speak up. “Tails, Tom is–”

“I-I know, I know, I know.” Tails bit his tongue since his screen turned on (he thanked his past self for making his Electric able to withstand heats up to 4,000 degrees Kelvin). “I just– I’m sending them, so just… it won’t be long.”

He could still feel the eyes on him, but he just focused on getting those coordinates as fast as possible so they could go back to London and see if Tom was–

…If he...

It was Tails’ technology that got him hurt. He heard Shadow’s voice over the mic. He heard Shadow say he did what he had to before he disappeared. But he also knew Shadow wouldn’t just attack someone innocent like Tom– it was Tails’ fault– it was his plan, it was his tech, it was his–

“...ails? Tails, buddy, are you–?” Sonic tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrunk away.

“I’m busy right now, okay?” Tails’ voice cracked. “I-... I’ll try to do medical evaluations later.”

“That’s not what I’m asking about.” Sonic crossed his arms– though it made him cringe in pain.

“Well, it should be! You’re seriously hurt! I-I mean– coming out of Super Sonic like that? And then falling that far? Half of your quills are burnt black, for crying out loud,” Tails pointed out. “I’ll see if there’s anything I can do in a minute.” He went back to the coordinate searching– though of course the connection was still being wonky.

“Fox…” Knuckles seemed to decide it was his turn to argue now.

“You’re one to talk too– you’re burnt pretty bad as well! I mean– you basically took all three of our crash impacts. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a concussion o-or even radiation exposure effects due to staying at the Eclipse Canon for so long,” Tails pushed back, the weight pressing harder and making his heart pound as the map finally loaded.

Knuckles didn’t seem amused. “Fox, what are you–” “I’m just trying to get us back to London as soon as possible, okay? Will you let me do that now? Please?” Tails snapped slightly, clearly startling Sonic (though Knuckles was characteristically unphased).

The echidna stared at Tails for a moment, before nodding. “To your task.”

Tails bit his cheek, but brought his focus back to his Electric, which finally loaded their coordinates. Now, it was just as simple as a swipe and a tap and they were that much closer to home.

Home…

Tails had lived with Tom and Maddie for quite some time now, but he still couldn’t help the odd feeling he got when thinking of their house as home. After all, his past two homes weren’t exactly up to code, especially when in comparison to the Wachowski house. He wasn’t used to having a pet, or friends, or adults that liked him and genuinely wanted him around and brushed his fur and tucked him in at night, and–

And who he got hurt. Badly hurt.

“Okay, the coordinates are sent.” Tails forced himself away from his thoughts. Knuckles nodded, while Sonic only looked moderately relieved, and was quick to start pacing around.

Tails and Knuckles let him, the former working on doing some bug testing on the electric, and the latter doing some kind of warrior yoga meditation thing. The silence couldn't last forever though, as after maybe two minutes, Sonic spoke up.

“You know– if you guys wanted, I could go run around, get a good look of the place, and look for an airpl–”

“No,” both of them said at the same time.

“Hey! I’d be right back, I swear,” Sonic tried defending himself.

“Sonic, you’re barely able to even walk around like that; running will only make your injuries worse,” Tails tried to explain, but it was clear Sonic’s impatience remained.

“I feel fine,” he clearly lied, still having a shortness to his breath and a slight limp on his right side. “I just– I want to get to London as soon as possible.”

“I-I know, I know– but the connection on my electric got through so I’m sure Maddie already sent them to GUN,” Tails tried to comfort, but Sonic growled at the mention of the organization.

“Y’know, I think I’d rather take my chances with you piloting a random airplane.” He looked away bitterly.

“We are not going to steal from the local people, it would be dishonorable.” Knuckles put his foot down, making Sonic grumble more, but at least he didn’t argue.

Tails couldn’t blame Sonic for his impatience, he was itching to get back to London too. He was just too weak for pacing or flying right now. To be honest, he really just wanted to curl onto a ball, hide under the covers, and wait for this all to pass like a bad thunderstorm.

Tails was startled when he felt an arm wrap around him– even more surprised it was Knuckles’. Tails looked up, trying to see if he could get a good read of him, but he was stoic as ever. He was hurt, no doubt by the burns he sported too, but he never did let it show (except when fighting Shadow). It would be a lot harder to give him a medical evaluation, but Tails could guess his left hand was still bad from when Shadow twisted it. He was also showing signs of a minor concussion, looking a little more dazed and dizzy than usual. Of course, there wasn't anything Tails could really do about that until they got to the hospital, and even then Maddie would want to be in charge, since she was a vet and all.

“Take it easy, okay Knuckles? I can bandage some of your burns and your hand once we’re on our way out,” Tails advised, getting nothing but a short nod in response.

Things were quick to go quiet again, except for the sound of Sonic pacing and the occasional breeze stirring the corn, until the sounds of the GUN helicopter broke through. While Tails was relieved, he could tell his teammates were having… conflicted feelings, to say the least. Especially Sonic, who always wore his emotions on his sleeve.

Still, they all got up and followed the soldiers’ orders to take their seats and wait for the hour and a half flight from Aquitaine, France (so that's that's where they were) to London. Of course, that only lasted until lift off, as shortly after Sonic began to pace again.

Thankfully, the soldiers let Tails use their first aid kit and so he began by wrapping up Knuckles’ arm.

The trained warrior didn't complain a bit, even when Tails had to straighten it out in a way he knew had to be uncomfortable for the splint. Tails could admire that; the ability to tough things out, to not complain when doing the right thing gets him hurt, to not mention how Tails left Knuckles behind without so much as a second thought. He appreciated Knuckles allowing him to still do what he was good at before... well, before–

“I can't take this anymore– how much longer is it gonna be?” Sonic complained loudly to the pilot, which got a silent glare from one of the soldiers.

“Sit down, hedgehog,” she ordered, and he rolled his eyes.

“You must be fun at parties,” he muttered, going back to Knuckles and Tails to continue his pacing again.

Tails took pity on him. “Considering it’s been no more than ten minutes since we left, I’d say we still have an hour and twenty minutes.” He finished tying off Knuckles’ bandage. “You’re up next, if you’re ready.”

Sonic sighed and slumped himself in the seat opposite to Tails. “Y’know, if I had known we were in France, I would’ve just run,” he grunted.

Tails sighed, looking for the aloe vera. “Sonic, you know–”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Sonic crossed his arms with a wince again and began tapping his foot. “I would’ve found a way to bring you two along.”

Tails couldn’t help but smile a little as he shook his head. “I appreciate it, Sonic, but I think Tom and Maddie would appreciate it if you didn’t get yourself killed just so you can see if–... if…” Tails couldn’t finish the sentence, the weight on his chest threatening to cave in. Again, he felt Knuckles place a hand on his shoulder, which was half comforting, half guilt-inducing.

“The Lord of Donuts will be alright, Fox. We must be patient until then,” he spoke calmly, but, again, Tails just couldn’t quite feel settled.

“Y-yeah, I know.” Tails finally found the bottle and squeezed out a glob before rubbing it on a burnt spot on Sonic’s arm, making his teammate cringe.

“Yeesh, are you trying to kill me here?” Sonic complained half-heartedly.

“Your adrenaline is running out.” Tails waved off. “You’re going to be in a world of pain soon, and you’ll be thanking me for doing at least some of this ahead of time.”

Sonic waved him off with his free arm. “You and your science.”

“Never fails,” Tails teased, before remembering all over again how it was his tech that got Tom hurt and– and Maddie was disappointed in him– saw him as a failure and if anything really bad happened he’d probably end up getting kicked out and on his own again– which really, really, really sucked because he really liked Tom and Maddie and he hadn’t wanted to fail them, but–

“Tails– Tails, what’s the matter? Why do you keep doing that? What’s going on, man?” Sonic asked, placing a hand on his other shoulder.

Tails shook his head and desperately forced back any tears that were threatening to form. “I’m sorry, I just– it’s–... I-I…” He looked down at his hands and at the bottle of aloe. “I need to make sure you two are okay.”

Sonic gave a pitiful smile. “I’m okay, bud.”

Tails scoffed, rubbing the bottle with his finger. “You’re probably not gonna wanna run for the next week or two with all the damage you’ve done– plus you’re all burnt a-and–”

“Yeah, but I’m also alive thanks to you two saving my butt,” Sonic punched the fox’s arm lightly, which made Knuckles chuckle quietly.

Tails couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “Y-yeah, that is true– though it’s all on Knuckles, really, since when I tried I couldn’t throw the ring and I passed out from all the wind and pressure and heat, unlike him, who was totally cool with it,” he confessed, pouring more aloe to rub on Sonic’s shoulder.

“Your bravery was most noteworthy, Fox. You made a valiant effort to protect your teammate and this planet from harm. You should be proud of what you have accomplished,” Knuckles spoke up, and Tails could feel the stern look he was giving on the back of his neck.

“Thanks, Knuckles.” Tails didn’t so much as glance his way, noting silently that among his accomplishments was getting Tom hurt. However, he just kept on working, ignoring the look Sonic was also giving him as well.

After another wince in pain, Sonic sighed. “I’m nervous too, bud… but we’ll– we’ll figure something out, I’m sure.”

Tails couldn’t speak, swallowing a lump in his throat with a silent nod. He really didn’t have time for crying or for pity right now, he had to help his friends, he had to prove he could still do good before he lost the only home he’d ever known.

And thankfully, Sonic let him, allowing him to apply more aloe before bandaging some areas up and even wrapping his ankles (which Sonic insisted he didn’t need, despite actively whining when he wrapped his right foot).

By the time he was done, it seemed Tails’ own adrenaline was rapidly running out. When he tried to inspect himself for injuries or burns, he barely managed to apply a band-aid before he started to actively nod off. He tried to fight as best he could, apply aloe here and there. However, his tails and tailbones were what hurt the most, but there wasn’t anything he could really do until he got to Maddie, so the best thing he could do right now was rest up.

Not that she would probably want to help Tails. She’d probably not even want him in the room. No, she’d tell him to pack his things and go, to stop embarrassing her family and say he ‘caused them enough trouble,’ before kicking him out in the rain. Not that it was raining right now but– but that’s how these things went.

At least this time Tails could be prepared.

With that thought in mind, Tails curled up in his chair, next to his compatriots, before being dragged down into a heavy sleep.

.o0o.

“Ahhh, home sweet home,” Sonic grinned, setting down his suitcase and immediately doing a lap around the place, which made Tails laugh. “Definitely better than being at that hotel for two weeks. Although, I still don’t agree with the new living room paint.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not in charge here, are you?” Maddie teased, bringing in her suitcase plus a large bag full of papers and bills and all sorts of adult human earth stuff.

“There are many reasons the hedgehog should not be in charge, Pretzel Woman; his arrogance, his temperament, his–”

“Alright, Knuckles, that’s enough,” Tom warned casually, bringing in Ozzie and his two duffle bags.

“Very well, Lord of Donuts. As leader of this clan, I trust your judgement.” Knuckles put a hand on his chest.

“Rrright… Well, it’s only 4pm, so… Sonic, how’s about you pick out a movie to show the new guys while me and Maddie get some things settled and order pizza?” Tom suggested, setting his bags down on a table.

“Oo! Yes! Knuckles, I got some action movies I know you’ll love– there’s one where this adventure guy is fighting these Nazis, right? And there’s this temple with cultists and–”

“Hey, let’s try to make it a movie everyone can enjoy?” Maddie interrupted, noticing Tails holding one of his namesakes tight.

“H-hey! I can handle violence! Especially if it teaches me about ancient earth culture,” Tails protested.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly call Temple of Doom ‘educational’,” Tom chuckled, unleashing Ozzie, who immediately started following Knuckles.

“Oh please, Tails is a pro! He can totally handle all the fighting and violence.” Sonic wrapped an arm around Tails’ shoulder, making him smile.

Tom didn’t seem swayed in the slightest, though. “I seem to recall the last time we watched it, a certain hedgehog needed to sleep in our bed for a week because he was scared of his heart getting ripped out.”

“Wha–? I–? I would never!” Sonic protest, before he huffed. “Okay, fine, I’ll think of something else.”

Knuckles shook his head. “I disagree. I think we should watch this ‘moo-vie’, as I find the premise rather intriguing– although I have one question for you, Hedgehog,” Knuckles turned to him. “What exactly is a na–”

“Hey! Knuckles, let’s leave human questions for tomorrow, okay bud? Just go hang out on the couch for now,” Tom interrupted with a sudden burst of energy, exchanging a look with Maddie. “Besides, Sonic is going to choose a movie everyone can enjoy, right?”

“Right, right, yeah,” Sonic waved off, ego still bruised.

“Good.” Maddie scratched him behind his ears, which perked him up. “We’ll just be in our room if you need us, but it shouldn’t be too long.”

“You got it.” Sonic saluted, making the woman laugh again and kiss his forehead before taking her bags and paperwork away.

“Make good choices.” Tom gave a friendly wink before he too disappeared.

“Alright, well gang, we have some choices to make.” Sonic clapped his hands before he sped off to the living room, Knuckles and Tails quick to follow. “We could watch Star Wars, since if we stick to the main trilogy it’s pretty tame– or we could watch some Planet Earth documentaries if you guys want a crash course on that kind of thing– or! Oo! Tails, I know you’ll love Yu-Gi-Oh, we should do that!”

“Oh-! I’m cool with whatever you guys want, really, you don’t have to go out of your way or anything.” Tails took a step back.

“Does this ‘Yu-Gi-Oh’ also have fighting and violence?” Knuckles asked, taking his seat next to Sonic on the couch.

“Fighting, yes. Violence, not really. It’s cool though, you’ll like it too.” Sonic grinned before he found the remote and turned on the TV.

“Ah–! Sorcery!” Knuckles jumped up, before shaking his fear off. “Not that it matters! No magic is strong enough to take down an echidna warrior!” He pointed his fists to the television.

“Woah there, dude! Mom and Dad do not need you destroying another TV, chill out.” Sonic quickly tried to put his arms down.

While Sonic and Knuckles started arguing about the nature of the television, Tails sat on the ground close to the kitchen, and dug out his Miles Electric to try and do some more repairs. Of course, Tails had tinkered a lot with his electric while at the hotel, but the right-hand button still wasn’t responding as it should have. He was lucky he had barely needed it these past two weeks, otherwise it would’ve frustrated him a lot more. But now that Sonic was back home, Tails knew it was just a matter of time, and so got back to work, the sound of arguing making solid background noise.

Tails had managed to remove the casing on his electric, unscrew any and all coverings, and was part way through testing and cleaning parts of the motherboard when there was someone standing over him.

“Hey kiddo, what’re you doing over here all by yourself? You can barely even see the TV,” Tom pointed out, kneeling down to get a look– though Tails quickly tried to cover it with his hands.

“S-sorry! I know I should be enjoying the movie, it’s just that I–”

“Woah, hey, it’s cool, you’re not in trouble,” Tom assured. “I just wanna know what you’re working on, if that’s alright.”

Tails tilted his head. “But… why?”

Tom chuckled, fully taking his seat on the ground. “Because it’s not every day I meet a genius tech whiz kid with a bag full of cool and dangerous tech.”

“O-oh! Right, yeah.” Tails couldn’t help but blush. “It’s nothing special, really, I’m just fixing up my Miles Electric.”

“‘Miles Electric’, huh? What’s the name for? Is it like a GPS?” Tom asked.

“It is! But it does a lot more, usually. And it’s named after– a-after me, actually.” Tails looked down at the device.

Tom sat up straighter. “So your birth name is Miles?”

“Miles Prower, yes.” Tails picked at the carpet.

Tom chuckled. “I like it. Suits you.” “Y-yeah, but I prefer Tails, since that's what everyone calls me,” he explained, tracing the AGP slot with his finger anxiously.

“Whatever makes you more comfortable, Tails.” Tom smiled softly, making the fox blush again.

“Thank you, Mr. Wachowski.”

“You can call me Tom if you want, I don’t mind,” he offered.

“R-right! Well– um– the Miles Electric is sorta like how phones work for you guys, except mine has its own radio wave emissions that don’t rely on satellites for things like tracking and measuring chaos energy levels,” Tails explained, taking out a small magnifying glass to examine the CPU more closely.

“Wow, that sounds fancy. You made it yourself from scratch?” Tom asked.

Tails nodded. “I had a whole lab back on our home planet where I made all of my gadgets and gizmos– though I left most of them behind when I found out Knuckles was on his way.”

“Oh? What other stuff do you have over there?”

“Oh, lots of things.” Tails set down the magnifying glass. “Televisions, laser pistols, smoke bombs, hoverboards, cameras, wire traps, a jetpack, and some prototypes for my own airplane.” Tails couldn’t help but smile. “Man, I know I totally shouldn’t have done it, but flying that airplane was exhilarating– I’d give just about anything to do it again.”

“Ahh, so we got a pilot on our hands, hm?” Tom smiled too.

“Y-yeah! Though before now it’s been mostly simulations and readings and whatnot, so you know.” Tails shrugged off.

“That’s still super impressive, kiddo. Not everyone can take skills from video games and apply them to real life– otherwise I think Sonic would be a much better driver,” he joked.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Tails giggled. “It helps that I’ve been passionate about flying planes for as long as I can remember.” He picked up his magnifying glass again.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed since you can already fly,” Tom pointed out.

“Yeah, but flying a plane has far more endurance, you know? Like– if I owned a plane I could really go somewh– dang it, I need to reball this,” Tails muttered, frustrated to find the CPU's connection had a slight fracture he hadn’t noticed before.

“Distance is the goal, hm?” Tom focused on. “I get that. I used to dream of flying off to San Francisco to be a big city cop.”

“Until Sonic came around, right?” Tails recalled, giving up on fixing the CPU and checking if other parts were in need of cleaning.

Tom nodded. “Yep. He made me realize I had everything I could ever ask for right here.”

Tails hummed. “Sounds nice.”

“It is,” Tom agreed. “But we were talking about airplanes, right? Did you say you had plans to build one of your own?”

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, finding a smidge of dirt on the digital signal processor he wiped clean. “I even made a few models and mini prototypes that fly pretty well. I’ve never really had the materials to make a life sized one, though, so until now it was more of a distant dream.”

“That’s really cool, kid.” Tom nudged him playfully. “Now, what would you say is the hardest part in building a plane?”

Tails snorted. “Obviously, the alignment.”

“Obviously.” Tom acted like he knew that too, which made the fox giggle.

“Everything has to be in its exact place at the exact measurements– especially in the wings and fuselage, otherwise the plane will be lopsided and then it can’t even get off the ground!” he explained. “Of course, there’s also hydraulics and making everything fit into a small and sleek frame, but I think I’ve already mastered that skill from working on my jetpack and hoverboard. Though– of course, I’ll have to make sure whatever seats I make, they can fit a person comfortably, since I don’t think standing on the wings is the smartest thing to keep doing,” Tails laughed, putting the motherboard back in its place and rescrewing it to the casing.

“Wait, you don’t mean Sonic–” Tom shook his head, “You know what? Don’t tell me. Just make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“I’ll try my best, Mr. Wachowski,” Tails laughed more. “But as I was saying, I’ll also have to decide if I want an ejector seat or not, since I can just fly out if worst comes to worst, and I’d really rather focus on making sure nothing could damage it in the first place– though of course that’s a lot easier said than done since I don’t exactly have Eggman level tech within reach at all times– and even then I managed to blow up quite a bit of it with my laser gun.” He snorted. “I’d also have to decide if I want a radio, just in case I come across another plane or person, though I– I don’t know. Radio technology is easy, of course, but it would take up a lot of space for something I probably won’t even need. Plus, headphones are kind of a pain for us, as opposed to you guys due to having less convenient locations. I also wouldn’t want a glass roof to protect from wind, so I guess a radio actually wouldn’t work at all, which– yeah, I’m fine with that, and– Oh! On the topic of the ejector, I’d have to also figure out the hydraulics there and determine the right amount of pressure and speed that would lead to me being a safe distance away but not so fast that I can’t manage to fly before I hit the ground, which the books I’ve read are not very helpful in helping me calculate, but I’ve never really been one to back down from a challenge like that. After all, it’s just a matter of wind resistance, G-force, acceleration, and my own reaction times– which could certainly use some work based on what happened in Syria.” Tails scratched his neck.

“Ah, I’m sure it’s nothing a little more baseball practice can’t fix, I wouldn’t worry,” Tom assured.

“Thanks.” Tails gave a crooked smile. “But yeah, there’s a lot that goes into it, and I’m just glad I don’t need a parachute, otherwise I’d have to either make a big pocket in my bag with a drawstring and everything, or get a new bag entirely, which will be hard because–” Tails suddenly realized just how much he was talking, and froze. “I– I’m sorry, Mr. Wachowski, you don’t want to hear any of this, you should be watching the movie, I–”

“Woah, hey, it’s all good, Tails, don’t worry.” Tom placed a hand on his shoulder.

Tails looked away. “You don’t have to lie, Mr. Wachowski. I-I know it’s stupid–”

“You talking about airplanes is not ‘stupid’, Tails, it’s super awesome,” Tom insisted, squeezing the fox’s shoulder. “I may not have understood about half of what you said, but I can tell you’re really passionate about this engineering stuff, and I love hearing passionate people talk.”

Tails blinked. “R-really?”

Tom nodded. “Oh, yeah. You talk about airplanes the same way Sonic talks about his comics and John Wick, and you know what? Even though I can’t even tell which character is from which universe or timeline, I could listen to him talk about it all day.”

Tails couldn’t help but smile as his namesakes bounced up and down. “Thanks, Mr. Wachowski. Your hospitality means a lot to me.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Tom smiled back before pulling out his phone while Tails finally pieced his Electric back together.

“You know, Maddie and I have been looking into bed frames for you and Knuckles for the attic. I’m starting to think it would be really cool if we could find an airplane shaped one, especially because it would match Sonic’s car bed. What do you think, though?” Tom showed Tails his screen, which made the kit freeze.

“W...Why are you looking into bed frames for us, Mr. Wachowski?” Tails glanced up.

Tom tilted his head. “I know you two are technically animals, but I know beds are a lot more comfortable than the ground.”

Tails shook his head. “No, that’s not– I mean like– like why? I-It’s not like I’m going to live here.”

Tom furrowed his brow. “I thought we talked about you staying with us back at the hotel.”

“I-I thought you meant like for a night or two! You– you don’t really want me here, do you?” Tails asked.

“Tails, of course we want you here,” Tom moved to be in front of Tails, where he then tilted the fox’s chin so he’d meet his eyes. “You’re a really cool, smart, and compassionate kid who helped save our planet, and Sonic himself especially. Plus Maddie and Sonic already adore you– Knuckles too, for that matter. We all want you here and with us and... and we even want you to be a part of our family, if you’d like.”

Tails looked down at his Electric again, his heart pounding in his chest. The whole reason he was fixing his Electric was so he’d be able to be on his own again– to get out of their hair before they got too annoyed by his quirks or weirded out by his tails, like his entire village (including his parents) had.

But now… Now he was being offered a place to stay? Permanently? What did that mean? Tom said he wanted him to join their family– Tails hadn’t ever really been part of a real family, not like the one Sonic, Tom, and Maddie had– would he even be good at it? What if he messed up? What if they got mad at him? Surely he’d be tossed out, just like he had before. It wouldn’t be worth it. Tails didn’t know how to live with other people, he was a loner, he would just mess it up–

But Tom… Tom liked him. He liked talking to him, he liked hearing him ramble, and he thought Tails had a gift, which was more than anyone back at the village would say. So... So maybe this time, things could… be okay. Maybe this time, Tails could be part of a family. Maybe, if Tails said yes, he could have loving parents, and cool older brothers, and a nice dog, and a house in the woods, and he could be safe, and warm, and loved, and cared for in ways he never even knew.

“Look, I know it’s early, so I understand if you need more time, but know that Maddie, and Sonic, and I care about you, okay? We don’t wan–”

Tom was interrupted by Tails leaping up and hugging him as tight as he could, which he returned once he processed.

“Thank you, Mr. Wachowski, I-I don’t know what to say.” Tails sniffled.

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo. We’re happy to have you here.” Tom hugged him tighter, making him smile because for once in his life, Tails could believe that.

.o0o.

The sleeping fox kit was woken up by Sonic shaking his arm, but all Tails wanted was to go back to his dream, where everything felt so safe and warm…

“Tails, dude, we’re here, wake up.” Sonic shook his arm again.

“H-huh?” Tails looked around to make sure he was right, and lo and behold the helicopter was docked at the hospital, which meant–

Tails jumped out of his seat instantly and started flying; he was so desperate to see if Tom was okay. However, the idea was short lived, as he yelped and fell to the ground before even forming a full two circles.

“Careful, Fox, you have not been aided yet,” Knuckles scolded softly, assisting Sonic in helping Tails up.

“Yeah, slow your roll, Tails; being impatient is my thing.” Sonic grinned.

“Right, yeah, be patient, I know that,” Tails laughed pathetically, finally gaining his footing, making one of the soldiers roll their eyes.

“Follow me,” they said, and the three of them did as they were told. It took four flights of stairs, one elevator ride, and several twists and turns, but finally, Tails, Knuckles, and Sonic were in front of ICU room A931.

There was a moment, a moment where, when Sonic opened the door, Tails closed his eyes and turned away. Sonic had tugged him forward, but Tails wanted to dig his heels in. The weight was pressing harder, begging for him to stop– to stay out in the hallway forever if it meant that he would never have to face–

“Oh my god– Boys!” Maddie cried out, and before Tails knew it, he was running at her full speed while she knelt at the ground, his teammates quickly joining him.

“Oh, my babies– I’m so sorry– I’m so glad you’re here– is everyone alright? I’m so sorry for leaving you like that– oh, you’re all so brave– and so young– I’m so glad you’re all here.” Maddie hugged them tight and planted kisses on each of their heads, her face wet with tears.

“I-it’s okay, Mom, we’re all in one piece, it’s okay,” Sonic replied, nuzzling his face against hers while he started to cry too.

“Our dear Fox has kept us well in check; you should be very proud of his work.” Knuckles nuzzled closer too.

“Oh, good, I was just– I was so scared, and when I saw that– that thing in the sky, I just– I'm so glad you're okay.” Maddie sighed a massive breath of relief.

“N-not... not all of us,” Sonic mumbled, before he dared to look up and away towards the hospital bed (where Tails still couldn't bear a glance).

“D-Dad, how– how is he?” Sonic looked back and forth between him and Maddie, bouncing on his feet.

Maddie sniffled and let go of the hug to wipe her face (though Tails stayed clung tight). “You can hug him, it's okay, just be careful with all the wires and with his left shoulder.”

Sonic nodded, and was at the bed in a blur, though hugged him much slower.

“He… is alive, no?” Knuckles asked softly.

Maddie scratched his head. “He's alive, sweetie. He's just... he's asleep right now… and will be for a while.”

The weight pressed much harder on Tails’ chest, forcing him to cling to Maddie tighter or else burst into tears.

“Oh baby, it's okay. The doctor says his vitals are holding good and strong; he should be okay,” Maddie tried to soothe, but Tails just shook and trembled in her arms.

“Fox, our good Pretzel Woman would not lie to us, our Donut Lord will be well in no time” Knuckles patted Tails’ back, but there was the slightest quiver to his voice that made him feel worse.

“So what’s– what’s wrong with him…?” Sonic asked carefully, his voice low.

Tails could feel Maddie tense before she slowly stood up, thankfully picking him up with her, allowing him to bury his head in her chest and away from the bed.

“W-well… his shoulder is dislocated, and he bonked his head pretty hard in the fall, but the biggest problem is his kidney, right where h-he was– where he– you know.” She looked away to stop herself from crying.

Tails winced, burying his head deeper, but the weight in his chest was crushing him alive, he couldn't stand it anymore, and so he finally peeped a look at Tom and–

He had electroencephalogram stickers on his head, measuring his brain waves onto one of the many screens next to him. He had unusual breathing, starting and stopping at odd intervals, but was probably helped by an oxygen mask. He didn’t move or even twitch at Sonic’s touch, and wasn’t responding to any noise either. His hand and wrist looked slightly swollen, his watch and wedding ring removed and placed on a side table. There was an IV and heart monitor on his right hand, which Sonic was careful to not mess with as he held his hand and sat close. His left arm was in a sling, the disguise now made necessary. His skin was also very pale, not helped by being completely washed out by the pale blues and whites of the room, bedsheets, and hospital gown. He looked awful. If he weren’t asleep, he’d be in so much pain…

“S-so a concussion, a gl-glenohumeral joint dislocation, acute kidney injury, a-and a– a coma?” Tails found he couldn’t peel his eyes away.

The fox felt her startle, and could see her examining him with a mix of pained confusion and pity.

“Y-yeah, that’s… that’s what the doctor said, sweetheart.” She tried to smile, but it just– something about Maddie saying that he was right, that Tom was in a coma, it– it hurt– it hurt more than anything had ever hurt Tails before– the weight on his chest– the weight of his failures finally crashed down on Tails, and the fox let out an agonized sob.

“Tails!” Everyone cried out at once– but Tails ignored it, frantically pushing his way out of Maddie’s arms and attempting to fly straight to the door– only to immediately yelp in pain and fall to the ground. He narrowly avoided Knuckles grabbing hold of his arm, but when he tried to run for the door, Sonic sped right in front of him.

“Tails, what’s going on, bud?” Sonic asked, hands held out in an attempt to soothe.

Tails shook his head. “I-I–”

His eyes went back to Tom, who was still unconscious– completely unaware of what was happening right in front of him– because of Tails– because of his technology–

“I-I’m sorry, okay?!” Tails shouted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

“W-What?” Sonic took a step back. “Tails, it’s not–” “I-It was my plan! It was my tech! I-I should’ve had a safeguard o-or– or something! A-and now it's all my fault that he’s dying a-and– a-and I’m gonna lose one of the first people to ever even care about me,” Tails sobbed, collapsing to his knees.

It took less than a second for arms to wrap around and squeeze him tight.

“I-It’s not your fault, Tails, none of us knew Shadow would be there,” Sonic insisted, eyes clenched tight as he cried too.

A soft hand stroked the top of his head. “Sonic’s right, honey, it’s not your fault. We didn’t kn–”

“B-but I should have!” Tails fought back. “I-I just– if I had a safeguard, o-or some kind of quick cancel, o-or if I used my Electric to track Shadow, I-I coulda stopped him.”

“Fox, your hands were already full from planning our mission and guiding us through obstacles– you have been truly extraordinary today,” Knuckles argued too, but Tails couldn’t have disagreed more.

“I-If I-I h-h-had ju-just– If I had j-just thought for– for five seconds– do the one thing I’m good at for five seconds–” he choked out.

“Tails, baby, that’s not true– you’re so kind and gentle and sweet– you’re so much more than our tech guy,” Maddie insisted, but Tails could barely hear her over the anguish in his head.

“I-If I had just planned like I was supposed to– I-I coulda saved him! B-but now h-he’s– a-and now I have to leave, a-a-and I really don’t wanna– I don’t wanna go back, I don’t wanna.” Tails buried his head in Sonic’s shoulder.

“W-What? Tails– Tails, why– You can’t– w-we– why?” Sonic was at a complete loss for words.

“Tails– Tails, baby, look at me,” Maddie grabbed his right shoulder and lifted his chin. “You aren’t going anywhere, okay?”

Tails shook his head. “B-but–”

“No ‘but’s, honey. You belong here with your family.” Maddie smiled while she cried, wiping away Tails’ tears.

“B-But h-he got hurt cuz of my tech– a-a-aren’t you m-m-mad at me?” Tails hiccuped.

Maddie’s face melted. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not mad at you,” she cooed, scooping up the fox in her lap. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve done so much today and for our family– I would never, ever want you to leave us.”

“Y-yeah! Besides, it’s not your fault he got hurt, it’s GUN’s,” Sonic added, moving to Maddie’s side where Tails could see him.

Tails sniffled and wiped his eyes. “B-but– but I coulda–”

“You did the best you could, Fox. You should be proud of how well you protected our family and our home,” Knuckles insisted.

“I– I left you behind on the arc– I didn’t– I didn’t even think about what would happen to you– what if you had been there, Knuckles? Wh-what if you– And what if I failed to catch Sonic? I didn’t throw the ring, I just passed out– I failed you guys– all of you.” Tails started shaking again, and Maddie rubbed soothing circles in his back.

“You haven’t failed anyone, Tails. You might have made a mistake or two, but it’s okay because that’s what the rest of us are here for, you know? We take care of each other, that’s what real families do.” She kissed his forehead.

Tails looked at the ground with a sniffle. “S-so… so even– even if he–...”

Maddie took a deep, shaky breath. “Even if– if Tom passed… I’d still want you here because you’re my kid, and I love you so much.” She hugged him tighter. “And I promise you, there is nothing you could possibly do that would make me stop.”

“O-oh…” Tails let out in a low whisper. “I–... thank you, Mrs–” Tails paused, taking a breath, “Mom. Thank you, Mom.” He smiled weakly up at her.

Maddie beamed before hugging him even tighter. “Anytime, baby.”

“Y-yeah! A-and– And I promise too, Tails, I might get annoyed or frustrated sometimes, but I’d never want you to leave. You’re my little brother, and I love you too,” Sonic joined in.

“The same goes for me as well, Fox. While we might not share blood, you’re as much kin to me as you are my friend,” Knuckles added, patting Tails’ back for emphasis.

“I love you guys too,” Tails giggled, before he glanced back at Tom's bed.

Maddie noticed this, of course, and gave the fox a scratch behind the ears. “He loves you too, you know.”

“I know.” Tails’ smile grew before falling slightly. “I just– I hope he'll be okay…”

Maddie let out a long sigh, letting go of Tails so she could wrap her arms around Sonic and Knuckles too. “I know it's scary right now, but it'll all work out, I promise.”

“Our Donut Lord is a strong fighter, for a human. He will overcome this.” Knuckles nodded in agreement, earning him a scratch on the head from Maddie.

Sonic chuckled. “Yeah… and if I know Dad– which, I totally do– then I know that he's not gonna give up without a fight.”

“We'll just… have to wait, in the meantime.” Tails said as he and Maddie exchanged weak smiles.

“Ugh, patience.” Sonic scrunched his face up.

“Good things come to those who wait, Sonic.” Maddie booped his nose before resting her head on Tails’.

“Say that to marathon winners,” Sonic argued.

“Say that to farmers,” Tails countered.

Sonic rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay you win that one.”

“As I was saying…” Maddie eyed the two of them. “It might be hard, and it might take a lot of time, but we're gonna get through it together as a team. It might take a long time before things start looking up, but no matter what, we’re in this together as a family. So long as we remember that, everything will work out.”

She hugged Tails tighter and made him smile, because for the second time in his life, he truly believed that.

[diceisbored]

hallooooo can i request some miles morales fluff? just reader chilling in miles’ lap hugging his chest or smth as he sketches inhis notebook. after some time his mom walks in to ask if you wanted some snacks and he whisper yelled at her(for a second) to get out since you fell asleep and then he let you sleep over sending your parents a text that youre gonna be home the next day<3

notebook

navigaton

summary: while lightly sketching & drawing, miles notices you fell asleep on him.

warnings: barely proofread lmao ; 2nd person (you, yours)

dice's note! : this is like really short and i'm sorry BUT i actually really realty liked this request, so thank you anon!!

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It started with the two of you singing along to your favorite songs together. And it ended with you lightly snoring every time he moved a bit.

Of course, you had always told him how comfortable his desk chair was every chance you could- but he also figured out how comfortable you thought he was pretty quick.

Even now he was proven right.

Curled up in Miles' lap while he's drawing, one hand on your back, rubbing small shapes. He quietly hummed along to your shared playlist, both of your music tastes combining into something that defined your relationship.

You shift a bit as the door opens, breath now warm against his collarbone. He looks up to his mom as she peeks her head in.

"Hey do either of you-"

"Mama! Whisper, please," He jestures down to you, sound asleep on his leg, "I don't want to wake them up." Miles smiles at you, then at his mom.

She nods, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth, "Alright, I'll be right back," She leaves, leaving the door slightly open.

He looks back down to you, then to his notebook again, picking up where he left off. Before long, he suddenly remembers you're supposed to be home soon.

So, because Miles would absolutely hate to ever wake you up, he sends your parent a quick text, letting them know that you're alright, just fell asleep.

He sets his phone back down, going back to his drawing of you.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

[moonstruckme]

Dude I just get my hearing aid after have trouble hearing for some months

Could I request one for any character you like with a reader with hearing problem? When it happens they already in relationship so it a big change for both of them?

Cos not everyone in my family take it kindly... So it might happen in relationship too right?

I'm sorry you had to wait so long lovely! I don't have much experience with hearing impairments, so I apologize if anything is inaccurate—please feel free to let me know! And thank you for requesting <3

cw: frustrations around not hearing well, difficulties aquiring healthcare

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re dicing onions, blinking hard against the fumes and trying to make as quick work of it as you can, when something touches your lower back. You gasp and jolt, knife slipping down the curvature of the onion and scaring you badly enough that you drop it as you spin around. 

Steve looks just as startled as you do, staring at you with wide eyes. Lately, you’ve had trouble catching everything people say when they talk, but that’s not an issue now because he’s immediately yelling. 

“Jesus—shit!” He drops into a squat, picking up the knife you hadn’t realized had clattered to your feet. Your heart’s still going a mile a minute, his panic fueling your own. “What the hell was that?” 

You press your fingers to your temples, mindless of the vegetable juice stickying your hairline. “Oh my god,” you pant, “you scared me!” 

You see it click in Steve’s face. “You couldn’t—I said hi when I came in.” He shakes his head, agitated. “You hummed back!” 

“I didn’t.” 

“You did!”

“I must have been humming about something else!” A belated, frightened tear leaks from your eye, and you take a harsh breath, trying to slow the adrenaline racing through your bloodstream. “I didn’t hear you.” 

The appearance of tears reverses your boyfriend’s demeanor in an instant. “Hey,” he says, now soft enough that you see his lips form the word more than hear it. He sets the knife on the counter, gripping your upper arms. “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” 

“It’s the onions,” you huff, though you’re not sure that’s strictly true. 

He makes a sound that might be a word and pulls you into his chest. You fist your hands in the material of his sweatshirt, still a little bit furious at him. Or maybe at everyone. Everything. 

Steve says something else, and you sigh. 

“Can’t hear you.” 

Usually he’s better about this, but you still get sick of saying it. It feels like he’s making you remind him, forcing you to admit you can’t get on just the same as everybody else, though of course you know he’d never do that. Steve’s a good guy down to his bones. You’re just mad, lately. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he says at an audible volume. “I thought you could hear the door, and then when you seemed like you responded to me saying hi…I just thought I was good.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You’re shaking just slightly, the adrenaline working its way out of your system, and when Steve notices he tightens his grip on you as if he can contain your panic. 

“I almost made you cut your own finger off,” he says. 

“Well, I didn’t.” 

“Still.” He presses a kiss into your hair. “How long until you can get a hearing aid again?” 

Irritation prickles down your spine. “I don’t know. I’m still working it out with the insurance company.” 

Steve must hear the darkness seeping into your tone, because he gives your upper back a solid rub. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help.” 

You have to clamp your jaw shut, the temptation to be cruel sharp and cutting in your mouth. You could help by remembering to speak up, you want to say. It doesn’t seem like you’re asking that much of him. You can understand when other people forget, but Steve lives with you. It’s not so hard to raise his voice a little when he wants you to understand what he’s saying. Half the time, you can’t even hear yourself when you speak because you’re trying to be considerate of him and talk at a normal volume. When he doesn’t do the same for you, it makes you feel like you’re in this alone. 

Still, you know these thoughts don’t have so much to do with a deficiency in your boyfriend as your upset over your own change in circumstance. All of a sudden, the way you experience the entire world has shifted. You hate asking Steve to accommodate you, and you wish that you didn’t have to ask, but it’s nobody’s fault that you’re both still adjusting. In the time between now and when you eventually get a hearing aid, you’re just going to have to get used to this feeling that you’re a world apart from him. It’s not his fault he can’t be in it with you. 

Steve pulls away from the hug but keeps his hands on your arms, and he’s looking at you oddly. Considering. For all the shit you give him about not understanding when you need help, he really can surprise you with his intuition sometimes. Maybe he just knows you that well. 

You’re about to ask What? and hope your voice doesn’t come out as pissy as you feel when he says, in a tone somehow both loud and gentle, “Maybe I could get you a walkie talkie.” 

You blink. “Huh?” 

“Dustin just got these ones that light up when someone’s talking to you,” he explains. He lets you go, leaning back with his elbows on the counter opposite you and a pensive furrow between his brows. “So what if instead of trying to guess what you can hear, I just call you on that when I’m about to come inside? That way even if you don’t hear it you’ll see the light.” 

“That…could work.” You hesitate. “So I’d just carry it everywhere with me so I see if it lights up?” 

Steve winces. “I guess it doesn’t sound as easy as I’d thought.” 

“No, let’s try it,” you say, encouragingly as you can and nodding for good measure. “It might help.” 

“Yeah?” he asks hopefully. 

“Mhm.” You nod again. “Thanks, Stevie. I know I…I know this is really inconvenient. Thanks for trying so hard.” 

“Hey, it’s not. It’s nothing.” His voice drops until you can barely make it out, and when you look up at him Steve’s expression is softly fond. He makes sure you can hear when he asks, “You want another hug, honey?”

There’s that intuition again. You nod, stepping into his arms where he waits by the counter and wrapping yours tightly around his waist. 

“Thank you,” you say again, the material of his sweatshirt heating with your breath. 

Steve presses his cheek to your head. “Don’t mention it.” 

[sovksluv]

Eurydice

𖤐 . pairing - death cure!Minho x fem!reader

𖤐 . summary - someone dies basically so yeah

𖤐 . content includes - um major character death !

𖤐 . word count - 493

𖤐 . taglist - @sluttysammyy @delilahandfiction

𖤐 . a/n - sorry this is so short, but i also randomly got this idea (instead of working on all the asks i have 🧍🏻 ) (also thank you for all the asks i have <3 ) REPOST BECAUSE EURYDICE DID NOT DESERVE TO FLOP LIKE IT DID

"no, no, no, no, no. hey-hey. you're okay. c'mon you're okay." he stuttered, inevitable tears leaving burning streaks down his face, though he ignored them. "hey, hey. baby you- you're okay. just-" he inhaled shakily, his breath getting caught in his throat. "look at me, baby. just look at me. you're okay."

he was beginning to believe that the repeating chants were more for him rather than you, the rational side of his brain rapidly failing, eyes constantly blurring and glossing over. Minho held your body close in his arms, his left arm gently cradling your head, which was shaking with his own nerves.

"Minho," you whispered out, barely audible with a sickly paleness to your face, small sticky streaks of blood seeping through the corner of your mouth. there were bullets firing, screaming, shouting, bombs going off, flames exploding from every corner, but the booming sound of his own heartbeat in his head overthrew all other noises.

Minho quivered, mouth dry, empty, despite his head running with thoughts moving thousands of miles a second, quickly flooding in one after the other. he allowed his eyes to droop down to your torso, the metallic crimson already engulfing most of your white undershirt, taunting him with its intensity.

it was unfair. your being had plagued his mind, being the only thing that kept him going. you kept him company in his dreams, distracting him from what they really were - nightmares. but nothing could distract him from this one. this very real nightmare. after six long months of torture, nothing had compared to this. finally being able to hold you in his arms again, only for it to be the last time.

from the moment you reunited, the two of you had yet to lose physical contact, swearing you would never let each other go again. that is why the moment Minho felt your hand abruptly pull from his, he knew it was time. he knew it was over. the ghost of your warmth lingered deep in his soul as the coldness drowned yours, your body succumbing to the inevitable darkness the moment the two of you were presented with the brightest of lights.

your path to forever freedom had been carved, ready for you, yet here you were, on an unexpected secret passage suddenly disrupting your long journey, where your story was coming to an end. the yells of anguish and silent sobs from your friends had no place in Minho's crazed mind, being too occupied yet utterly empty, despite everything he longed to say.

you were so close. one step away from the life you were destined to live together. but fate had been decided, your string had already been cut. and now the small threads of your yarn of life pooled on the ground as the blood seeped from your wound, the shattered body of your lover left to wash away the pieces and walk away without you by his side.

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work! THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT ! ASKS/REQS WELCOME

[yamamasjumpercables]

At The Bodega

Miles!Morales!1610 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word 🍒

a/n: I have left this in my drafts for too long

Miles wakes up to the sound of his late alarm blaring in his ears. Already being 10 minutes late for school Miles quickly puts his school uniform on, tucking his spider suit underneath textbooks. Miles rushes down the steps of the building where he lives, zipping up his backpack and texting Ganke that he will be late for first period. An ache in miles starts to arise. What’s 5 more minutes anyway, plus it’s study hall no one actually gets work done in there. Miles opens the door to the bodega, saying hi to the owner of the store before he gets his food. Miles goes to the back of the store looking for his favorite drink. Miles hears grunts coming from the left of him, and there you were. When miles laid his eyes on you it was like he was dreaming. Even though you were so concentrated on getting the drink from the higher shelf, he can still see the beauty in your face. “Um hey do you think you can help me get this” You say taking Miles out of his thoughts. Miles mouth quickly dries up. He didn’t know what to say. He can’t embarrass himself because first impressions are everything. He wonders what school you go to. He looks at your bookbag and see all the pins it has on it. Has he been staring too long at you. All these thoughts running through his poor overcrowded head. “Hello, can you help me” You ask waving your hand in Miles face. “Oh um yea I can help you” Miles says snapping out of his overwhelming thoughts. Miles goes to grab the drink that you wanted and hands it to you, giving you a soft smile. “Thank you” You say smiling back. Miles is so focused on your smile, he blocked out all the sounds around him. “I’m gonna go” You say awkwardly. “Oh yea I’m sorry if I was staring” Miles says embarrassed, scratching his neck. “I mean is there something on my face” You ask him confused, touching your face. “no I just think you’re very pretty- wait no I didn’t mean that- well I did mean that because you are very beautiful, and I’m here telling a stranger that they’re beautiful” Miles rambles on. “Hey it’s ok, if it makes you feel any better I think you’re pretty as well” You say with a soft smile on your face. “You do” Miles says a little shocked. You nodded. You finally hear the microwave beep, letting you know your food is ready. You go to the counter to pay for your food, but remembered you forgot your cash at home. “I’ll pay for you” Miles says taking out a few bucks from his pocket. “You don’t have to” You say putting miles money back in his pocket. “No I insist” Miles says giving the cashier the money. “Thank you, how can I make it up to you” You say putting your food in your tote for later. “Well for starters you can give me your name” Miles says confidently. “My name is Y/“ You were cut off by your alarm going off for school. “Shit I have to go, maybe I’ll see you here again pretty boy” You say smiling, waking out the bodega. It’s definitely safe to say miles was left with and 3 dollars and blooming crush on you.

First time writing for Miles Morales, I wanted to expand my writing just a smidge. So hopefully you guys like it<3

[leqonsluv3r]

hi! i love your writing sm so i wanted to ask you if you could do a short fic about leon’s first day at the rpd and reader is a detective or someone who works at the rpd and they become friends or something else <3

just the thought of leon being silly and shy about the little party they made just for him to say “welcome” makes my heart skip a beat……..

anyways have a good day! <33

so high school

—leon joins the police department and you just know that he’s going to be everything to you, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i hope this is what you had in mind <33 i left it open ended at the ending for your guys imagination. thank you guys again for 900, i love you all. sorry it’s taking me so long to get out all my requests. they’re open again in my bio. pls reblog, comment and interact to support your writers.

the first thing you thought of when you saw leon was how he was too cute to be a cop. that was your first thought, your second was how is this man single.

you didn’t know he was single at first, but for his entry papers, it didn’t say anything about a spouse or an emergency contact girlfriend. which made you very, very happy.

he was a sweetheart, he left a lasting impression on you and you didn’t know how to handle it. helping you carry files to the file room and taking desk duty in stride.

he was humble, sweet and outgoing.

you didn’t really see any faults in him, not at all. most guys you did date in the past, you could see the red flags from a mile away. like a big ugly tattoo on their forehead that just said: STAY AWAY! IM TERRIBLE!

but with leon, it wasn’t like that.

he didn’t ever say anything negative about anyone, he didn’t mention hating being on desk duty. he just simply lived and did his job, same as you. it made you feel lighter being around him. especially getting to know him, getting an idea of him.

you liked him a lot.

you realized that when you agreed to host his welcome party two weeks after he had been hired, most entry coordinators didn’t want too. but you practically jumped at the opportunity to give him his dream welcome party into the unit.

you planned it all out, you went a little overboard. which wasn’t always a bad thing but in this case…it was extreme.

you never did this for any of the other rookies welcome parties you helped organized, you never went this far. blue and yellow balloons, a large chocolate cake, a big banner that you custom designed. all made for leon and based on his tastes over the last two weeks you’d known him.

but when he arrives, a surprise, he sees all the effort. he sees all the decorations and he sees you. he never had felt so welcome in his entire life.

his mom never even put this much effort into his birthday party’s when he was a kid. so his surprise wasn’t fake, it was real and it was written all over his face as he scanned his room of coworkers leading all the way to you.

you, you were so welcoming. so goddamn magnificent that it made his head spin, you got him everything he wanted right down to a T. all the decorations, the cake…the banner.

it was everything.

you were everything, he’d had a crush on you the first day he started. the first day he saw you and you swiped him up into your world. he felt like he was on a different planet half the time when he was with you.

he had to tell you, he owed it to you.

after all, you did throw him an amazing welcome party.

he made his way to you half-way through the party. you were just so gorgeous and he liked you so much, god. you were so…he couldn’t even put words to it.

if he had to pick a dream girl, it would be you.

and he didn’t even realize he had those standards until you came into his life, making it turn from a dull throbbing gray to a beautiful multicolored world. one that used to be so drab for him but now…

now it gave him purpose.

and if you rejected him, at least he got to say he tried. got to say that he attempted to reach your heart, your mind…just you.

he might look like an idiot if you said no, but at least he was attempting. he was trying to make that attempt to confess and not be a coward in front of people like he usually was.

“you did this all for me? i knew you were up to something.” he says with a small smirk on his face when he approaches you. his blue eyes scanning you with nothing but appreciation. something that made butterflies flutter in your belly.

you shrugged innocently, your face heating up into flames. “i just wanted to give you a good welcome. you deserved it, especially when you got saddled with desk duty.” you crack a smile up at him, your eyes never leaving his.

“i don’t mind desk duty. my view is pretty great.” he says with a subtle teasing smirk as he looks down at you, you knew that his desk was a few over from his and he could look directly at you. you bite on your bottom lip and your cheeks flush a deeper scarlet.

you look up at him, “i’m glad you like it,” you gesture to the party around you. all your coworkers talking and the decorations. “i worked hard…i just wanted you to feel welcome.”

he smiles widely, dimples and all. “it worked, i feel welcome. you’ve made me feel welcome.” he feels himself admitting as his blue sparkling eyes rove over you.

you feel your body become hot beneath your pencil skirt and blouse, “uhm, i-i yeah, well…” you try to say but fail miserably, gnawing on your bottom lip.

“anyways,” he saved you with a small smile, tilting his head down to look into your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe we could…uhm, go out sometime?” he managed to get out. he felt like it was hot in here, like his uniform was strangling him.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you blinked up at him. you almost felt like you could pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real. he couldn’t be asking her out, he couldn’t like you like you liked him.

“uhm, me…me? you mean me right?” you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the punch you were holding in your hand. he smiles beautifully at you, showcasing his cute cheeks and his straight teeth, “yeah, i was talking to you. unless you see any other beautiful office managers around here?” he says with a small scan of his blue eyes over your frame.

you felt like you were about to melt into a puddle on the floor. his words and his eyes, dear god.

you straighten your spine, “i’d…i’d love too.” you manage to get out with a small gnaw on her bottom lip to hold back the smile threatening to beam on her face.

he feels relief flood over him, the amount of it was overwhelming. you had no idea how much he needed to hear those words from your lips. to hear you say that you wanted to go out with him.

“that’s-thats cool, yeah. i’m…i’ve been wanting to ask you that for a while.” he admits with a small quirk of his lips, feeling the nerves frazzle out of his body and short circuit his brain.

you can’t help the smile and blush that coats your cheeks, to feel the liking that was reciprocated by him. even after throwing him this party, it was still nice to know where you stood with him.

but you knew now.

“me too.” you blush as you keep your eyes on him, the party continued around them but they stayed deep in their conversation. like it would pain either of them to tear the attention away from each-other for five seconds.

“i’ve wanted…to ask you out, but ive been too nervous. i didn’t know how you would react.” you say softly as you sip on your drink, trying to find something else to focus on besides the red on your cheeks and the thrumming of your heart.

he smiles gently, “your too pretty to be nervous. but i would’ve said yes.” he says with a small wink in her direction, he had no idea where this confidence was coming from but he was glad he found it in this moment.

you look down at your punch in your hands, trying to will your heart to relax for five seconds. you were going to go out on a date with him. you were talking to him. he liked his welcome party…he was flirting with you.

it was safe to say you had him.

and he had you.

“i can’t wait for our date.” you say softly, looking up in his direction. your eyes gleaming a little as you stared at him, with something bordering on fascination and excitement.

he grins sheepishly and looks down at you, taking a small step closer. “me either. your gonna look so beautiful. your always beautiful but…i bet you look even better out of work clothes.” he says with a small gesture of his blue eyes up and down your frame.

you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “thank you.” you breathe out some air, trying to calm the nerves and the erratic beating out of your chest at his compliment, his eyes. just everything about him.

it made you feel like you were a giddy high schooler with a crush. like you were back in school and you were talking to a guy you were so enamored with, it just made sense with leon. you were so comfortable around him but your feelings made you feel like a frazzled teenager.

like you were back where you once were, it was exciting.

you knew he was the one, even if you hadn’t had the first date yet. you just had a gut feeling.

and your gut was always right.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify @porcelainseashore @squazmine (if you wanna be added interact with the link at the beginning <33)

[cynarisgayass]

helloo! I have a req for the to scream or be silent. (I'm really sorry if u are already full of requests)

could you do Xiao and Scara/Wanderer (up to u!)?

I think it would be quite interesting to see what they'd do in this scenario

Thank you sm!

𓍊𓋼~To scream or be silent PT 3~𓋼𓍊

Type: Headcannons

Description: HELLOOO!! Dw, you're currently my only request so I'm happy to have you! Hope you don't mind I added Venti and I hope you like dis~ So for anyone who doesn't know, this is a series where genshin characters react to a reader who will go completely mute or talk 3,000 miles a minute. Mostly a comfort type of fic!

Part 1, Part 2

Rating: Comforting fluff

Reader: GN, Slight autism/adhd vibes

Includes: Wanderer/ Xiao/ and Venti

Wanderer:

To scream:

He can get a little overwhelmed when you're in a hyper state, maybe even a little annoyed, but he's trying his best to be better about it. It's not that you are actually what's bugging him, he's just not used to so much talking, he doesn't know how to react when you want to tell him every detail about a book you just read or a show you just finished. To him this is whole new territory that he's not really comforting with yet.

However, when he does find a way to sit and listen to you patiently and you give him that smile of finally being heard...he finds it very very cute. He'd never say it aloud though...

To be silent:

He's the king of the silent game, the second you no longer want to talk, he no longer wants to either. He may look grumpy while he sits across from you or lays in bed staring aimlessly at the ceiling, but this is the time you both use to unwind. He loves those moments with you because it calms him, calms both of you and it's easy. If you're hyper fixating, he's not far away, destressing about social interactions and classes at the academia. If you need a break from speaking cause you just can't anymore, he's feeling the same...and ever so often he lets you closer to him to cuddle, but it's so sappy to him that it only ever rarely happens. When it does though, it's very enjoyable.

Xiao:

To scream:

He's always happy to hear your voice, to hear that excited fast tone you get when you're talking about something you're currently obsessed with. For so long he'd gone without much conversation that now he craves it from you, to the point that he'd sit on the roof with you all night while you went on and on about everything. Till you eventually fall asleep on him that is, then he'd carry you to bed and hope you'd find him the next day to do it all over again.

To be silent:

He understands everyone needs a break from socialising sometimes, but he struggles with how big of a break you want. It's difficult for him when you're hyperfixated and he wants to know wether or not you want him nearby, he can't exactly ask because he doesn't want to disturb you. When you go mute just so you don't have to talk, he finds himself feeling awkward cause he's not sure if you want to be alone or not.

More often then not he's very gentle with his voice and movements, tiptoeing around you because he knows better then anyone that alone time is alone time. If you do initiate a cuddle when you're in a silent phase, he will gladly accept and pet your head to comfort you.

As a god he's met all different types of people and has came up with many a ways to make them feel cared for. You are no exception. The second you start telling him about about a song you've just heard that you're in love with, he will learn it just for you. Say you are obsessing over a new item you've just bought, he wants to know all about it. He gets just as happy as you, if not happier because he loves how bright your smile is.

Venti:

To scream:

To be silent:

Just as before, when someone's silent around him, he understands completely. He will get out his quietest instruments and provide gentle background music, improving on his lyrics or coming up with new tunes to play later, all while you're hyperfixated on something or another. He will sing you songs when you don't want to talk so you won't ever feel awkward about lack of noise. And when you truly want pure silence, he sits by you and holds your hand, letting the quiet settle in.

Felt a little extra sappy with this one hehe. Also 20 followers now!! Woohoo!!

[hobvitr]

Gwen x fem reader but where the reader is also a spiderhero? Pretty please

gwen stacy x spider!reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, i wrote this sleepy i hope it's decent and I don't remember other warnings idk and i wrote it listening to wicked game by chris isaak (so good

note: thank you for your request! I'm sorry i didn't explored the fact of reader being a spiderhero :( if you want one like this specifically please tell me!! hope you like it <3

sinopses: you like your best friend, could it be mutual? actually you're too afraid to find out and instead of confessing you surprise gwen with a gift

for a unknown reason, the patrolling on your city was chill, boring even. you swing between the buildings, analysing every alley you pass by, and nothing was going on, making you stop and sit at a rooftop to look at the horizon. you were feeling lonely lately. gwen was busy with some mission miguel gave her, and you were just taking care of your people.

you missed her, more than you should as the last time you've seen each other was like, 4 days ago, but time was passing agonizingly slow, making you anguished for not being able to talk to your best friend who you liked more than one.. but no one has to know it, right? as long as it stay a secret, your friendship with gwen is safe. but it's not a secret, at least not for hobie, and pavitr, not even for miles. but hobie was the first one to notice your lovesick stares and smiles. you couldn't help to not develop feelings after knowing gwen for almost two years.

just as the thought of her intoxicated your mind, a blip from your watch make you jump a little, taken by surprise, and it's her calling. you quickly adjust your hair looking more presentable. "hey!" you say as you answer the call.

"hey pretty" she replies, with a soft smile on her lips. "what's up? are you busy?" she asks, making your heartbeat increase with just her voice and the thought of being with her again.

"no! no... i'm agonizingly bored, actually" you chuckle, a little embarrassed she was so busy these days and you basically did nothing but chill and punch some purse snatchers. "i miss you, y'know.." you say out of the blue, you couldn't help yourself.

she smiled and you could almost see a tint blush on her cheeks, before the call ended. you were left with just the wind, strands of hair flying with it. you low your head, chuckling humorless at your stupid statement, starting to regret it.

"no need to say more" you heard from behind, making you turn around to see gwen standing, taking off her mask as she smiles adoringly at you. "i missed you too..." she stated, voice a little lower, like she was shy to admit it.

you are quick to stand up and hug her, burying your face on her neck. you feel her tense up at your touch, but seconds after she relaxes and hug you even thighter. you could be like that for days, inhaling her scent and feeling the warmth of her embrace.

before what felt like a amount of time, you shyly back up from the hug, taking a good look at her face tinted with redness. "sorry, i got a bit carried away" you say, breaking eye contact. she mentally thanked you didn't get to see her face got even redder. "why would you be sorry?" she said with a giggle, bumping your shoulder with hers.

you two got a minute staring at the view of the city lighting up with the street lights, as the sun was already set. it was a beautiful view you got to see everyday, but today it looked even prettier, maybe because you have gwen with you.

"actually, i want to take you somewhere" you are quick to take her hand on yours, guiding her to your left side, letting go when you jumped between more buildings. "follow me!" you shouted, voice filled with joy. she obliged and jumped right behind you, shortly joining your side. "what do you got for me, hm?" she asked, her silhouette being hugged by the city lights, making her looks even more heavenly.

"can't tell, or it'll ruin the surprise" you giggled after stating, getting faster to where you were taking gwen. it didn't took long until you two got at what looked like an abandoned place. you quickly got to the ground, gwen following you shortly after.

"excuse me lady, are you trying to kidnap me?" gwen asked playfully, looking at the façade of the building. "I don't know... am i?" you furrow your eyebrows with a grin on your lips. "come on, you can run if you don't like it"

leading the way, you go inside the building, it really was abandoned, but gwen didn't doubt your choice of place, continuing to follow you inside one of the rooms. you opened the door, waiting for her to pass beside you. "i was exploring around here and i found out it was an instruments store... they didn't take eeeeverything.. so i kinda made you a drum"

okay, it wasn't the best instrument ever because first, you didn't know shit about drums and second, it was all different parts of different drums, but with a little help from internet you were able to make a playable one. gwen was silent for a moment, making you look at her and she was completely mesmerized.

"no way, y/n. no way-" she looked at you, her eyes were shining, and your heart started racing so fucking fast- next thing you felt was a crashing encounter of lips. your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. gwen just kissed you. gwen was kissing you right now. your mind started to work again as you kissed her back, your hands going to rest on her waist.

it was a quick kiss, as she leaned back, afraid of making eye contact, looking at the drums. you continued to look at her, hands still resting on her waist. "gwen" you called. still silence and no eye contact. you were burning inside, so scared it might end everything right here, right now. "gwe-"

"i think i've fallen so hard for you" she was now looking directly at you, her voice so soothing and sincere you almost passed out right on. "i'm sorry for kissing you so suddenly and i- i get it.. if you don't feel the same but i- it is the sweetest thing anyone have ever did for me-"

now it was you who kissed her. both hands going to hold her face, the kiss so filled with passion and softness. she instantly reciprocate, letting her arms hold around you in a warm hug. this one kiss was more comfortable and confident, and as it finished you hugged her almost instantly.

"thank you, really" she said, voice muffled in the hug. you nodded while giggling, proud of your creation. "will you teach me how to play it?" you asked playfully, but not entirely, as you were really interested on how gwen played such a complex instrument.

"what if i don't?" she teases, chuckling. "then I'm not giving it to you!" you state while laughing.

"too late!" she finally got off your hold to sit on the stool and get the old drumsticks laying on the floor. "that next song is for my girl" she playfully said as if she was in some concert, poiting at you, then she started playing and humming head over heels. oh she's going to kill you, but first you joined her to sing the lyrics.