#and all of a sudden i hear the WEIRDEST sound from above my head

[kicksnscribs]

Floor Time ™️

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

I'm glad someone else sees the pred potential S.undrop and M.oondrop have! May I request some content of them snacking on their fellow animatronics?

Definitely, that sounds like fun! I have a funny habit of picking the weirdest characters to consider my favorite so y'know. I finally caved to make the S.un/M.oon content I want in life.

Hanging from his wire high above the stage, M.oondrop picks at his sharp teeth with the tip of a hook. He's lucky that the wire he uses is industrial grade, given that his normally thin stomach is bulging out obscenely under him, the distinct forms of B.onnie and F.oxy stretching it out as they squirm inside. During one of his late-night patrols of the P.izzaplex, he'd overheard a couple of guards talking about how there was talk of scraping B.onnie and F.oxy to focus more on the popular animatronics, and M.oondrop decided...well, why let the two of them go to waste? What difference does it make if they get picked apart for scraps or if they're left to chug through his biofuel processors? A thick belch rumbles out of M.oondrop and he looks down at his stomach with a wicked grin. The voices of the two animatronics keep overlapping as they panic or yell. He presses a hand down onto one of them and feels them thrash around more. He snickers softly and slurps along his lips. "Tasty...didn't know animatronics had flavor." Would there ever come a time when M.onty or F.reddy get scrapped for new models? The very thought makes the daycare attendant drool a bit. He'd love a taste of them. The sound of creaking, groaning metal echoes from M.oondrop's gut as it works on compacting the more difficult-to-digest material of his fellow animatronics. With another belch, one of B.onnie's bowling shoes fly out of his jaws, dropping to the stage below. M.oon snickers and goes back to lazily picking his teeth with F.oxy's hook. Even with the less organic parts of his meals, the highly corrosive acids in M.oondrop's system are more than capable of melting them down, working away both their endo and exoskeletons and the tight compacting of their stomach helps to break apart the larger and stronger pieces. Once their circuits and servos begin to melt away, the struggling and screaming coming from his stomach will cease, and then there'll be nothing left of them but a boiling, metallic sludge that'll pack onto him as extra energy reserves like anything else M.oondrop ate. By the time that happens, he drops back to the ground, sauntering off and rubbing over the slight bulge in his gut. Normally, he'd use the ropes to get back to the daycare, but he wants to make sure M.onty and F.reddy both get a good, long look at what's left of their rejected friends. And the same place they'll both go should M.oondrop hear any rumors of sudden obsolescence...or if he just thinks he can get away with it.

The only place F.reddy hadn't checked at this point is the daycare, though he's not sure why M.onty would be in there. Still, he hasn't seen the gator since the last show, and that was some hours ago. He wasn't trashing his room or in the golf course, and after checking everywhere else, this is the only--and last--place F.reddy would think to check. If he's lucky, the daycare attendant might at least know something, so he heads to the main room to check. "Attendant S.undrop!" F.reddy calls out with his normally warm voice as he walks in. "I'm glad you're here, I'm looking for--" He stops when the attendant turns around, a large pot belly sloshing about as he does. "Ah...am I interrupting something?" "Oh, n-no, no no no!" S.undrop assures quickly. "I was just...um...cleaning up! Have been for a while, of course! Haven't done anything else!" He laughs and folds his hands behind his back. F.reddy can't help but notice the nervous tinge in that synthetic voice. "Of course...I was just here to ask if you've seen Monty anywhere." "No, um, not at all! Haven't seen him for a few hours at least, yep!" "So you have seen him today?" "Um..!" S.undrop quickly turns around. "I-I really should get the cleaning finished, you know how messy kids can be, h-haha!" He tries to leave but F.reddy walks over and grabs him gently by the shoulder and turns him around. "S.undrop, is there something you aren't telling me?" "N-No, of course not! Why would I ever hide anything? I don't know what you're--" Thre's a deep, wet groan from S.undrop's stomach. A thick belch erupts from him suddenly and something flies out of his jaws, bouncing off of F.reddy's chest and landing at their feet. He looks down, seeing a familiar pair of yellow star-shaped sunglasses. They were M.onty's. "S.undrop, what--" F.reddy looks up just in time to see the daycare attendant's yawning jaws snap down over his head. He flails for a moment, letting the thick gulps start sucking him down. By the time he tries to plant his hands on the other animatronic and push him off, S.undrop is already down to his chest, and he can't resist enough to stop himself from sinking deeper and deeper. S.un's gut stretches out as F.reddy pushes him, his massive body quickly and messily devoured. S.un tips his head back as he slurps down kicking legs, his stomach hanging heavily before him as he drops another animatronic inside. A deep belch rumbles out of him and he puts his hands to his gut. "I-I'm so sorry, F.reddy! I didn't mean to, really, I panicked! M.onty came by a few hours ago because he and M.oony got into a fight and he tries to start one with me and I panicked and stuffed his hands into my mouth and--BWWWOOOOUURRRRP!" Another belch rumbles out of him and S.undrop puts his hands over his mouth. He'd be blushing if he could. Ooooh...what was he going to do? He can't cough up F.reddy, he'll be in big, big trouble for that! He might have been able to get away with eating M.onty, though, but F.reddy? The face of the P.izzaplex? What is he going to do about this?! He looks down at his stomach, starting to knead it with both hands while F.reddy's muffled voice shouts out over the thick gurgling of his sludge-filled gut. They can just make new ones, right..? Who would even notice the difference. By the time anyone would notice their main stars are missing, S.undrop's stomach would be nothing more than a soft beer gut, and a quick "Sorry, I never left the daycare!" lets him get out of answering hard questions without lying. He had to admit though...M.onty and F.reddy did feel wonderful on his frame. And they made him extra cuddly soft! So...maybe it's not such a bad thing. Maybe he could even...add more...

There's a pair of wet slurps, M.onty's tail disappearing between M.oondrop's lips the same time F.reddy's paws disappear down S.undrop's gullet. Since getting separate bodies, the daycare attendants have been enjoying even more time together and an easier time communicating. It also means...M.oondrop has been having an easier time convincing S.undrop to do impulsive things. A few disappearing guards and employees haven't gone too notice, even as the guts of the robots got heavier and rounder with each one. But now, late at night, while there are no guards in the building to talk about...M.oondrop finally convinced S.undrop to go even further. Now M.onty and F.reddy are nothing but squirming, yelling bulges stretching out their stomachs. M.oondrop looms over S.undrop, still on his feet while his yellow counterpart is sitting against the wall. Their stomachs are pressed together, with M.oon making sure to grind his gut against the other's a little bit. A deep belch rattles out of S.undrop and M.oon is quick to copy him, cackling to himself afterward. "Th-This isn't a good idea..!" S.un tries to demand, though his voice comes out more like a meek squeak. "We...We should spit them up before we get caught!" "Caught by who?" M.oon counters, drumming his fingers along the bulge in his gut that M.onty's roaring face made. "No guards...footage can be deleted...nothing to catch~" He presses their guts together tightly, forcing another deep belch out of S.undrop. He can feel that stomach churning hard against F.reddy, working at full strength despite S.undrop's attempted retorts. He knows that his counterpart is enjoying this just as much as he is. "B-But they're our friends..." S.undrop tries to say, but there's no confidence to his waning voice. M.oondrop slurps along his lips and gives his stomach a hard smack, belching deeply and sending M.onty's sunglasses flying out. "Said that about guards...you ate three for breakfast just because~" The accusation makes S.undrop cover his face in embarrassment. Try as he might, they both know how S.un really feels about all of this--he's enjoying it, a lot, and the thought of melting down someone like F.reddy was just as exciting to him as it is to M.oondrop. Their stomachs continue to churn and groan, the shouting voices of their meals starting to drown out as corrosive acids eat away at them. Plastic casing cracks and degrades, exposing metal endoskeletons that falls apart just as easily. Creaks and groans turn into crunching and snapping as M.oon continues to shove their stomachs together, causing weakened metal to break into pieces. Static warbles come from their guts as the most important pieces of the two stars degrade, and before long, all sound and movement cease. S.undrop lets out a little gasp when he feels F.reddy go slack and he shivers. Their guts shrink and soften, taking what they can from the two massive animatronics to turn into energy reserves that soften up their stomachs and hips. After only a few hours, M.oondrop sits in S.undrop's lap, making sure their bubbling pot guts stay pressed together. He snickers as he taps his forehead to the other's, reaching down to rub along the sides of S.un's gut. "See? Just food~" the robot purrs. "Yeah..." S.un huffs softly. "Just...food." He belches thickly again and relaxes. Come morning, no evidence of what the robots did would be left, and the disappearance are only going to increase as they grow greedier. And no one was going to get in their way now.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 02

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: violence, dark themes, murder, bleeding, kidnapping, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: i am gonna try using the commas as dialogue markers for this work as i’ve gotten a few complaints about my love of the -, so i’m giving it a trial run. don’t be alarmed by it. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Her head was pounding and felt as if some unseen force was squeezing her skull, causing her head to hurt even further but she daren’t open her eyes. She could open them, she was conscious enough to know she could open then but she had them squeezed shut, afraid of what awaited her once she did so. From her senses, she knew she was laying against stone, cold stone and she could hear water drops falling onto the surface, still she daren’t open her eyes. This was all a nightmare, just a nightmare that she was going to wake up from in her very tiny, over expensive, way older New York flat in front of the weirdest scenery someone could have. 

The footsteps had her forcefully open her eyes as she scrambled backwards, back hitting a cold wall as her blurry eyes focused on the room. It was dark, almost like a basement yet she couldn’t exactly make it up. The beads of her dress had left marks on her skin yet somehow her wig was still in place. She didn’t know where she was and she hoped this was a really bad joke they played on newcomers. That’s it, a joke. It was just a joke, just hazing on the new kid. She’d gone through hazing a newcomer teasing in old companies, that’s just what it was. Don’t think of the worse, don’t of the worse. 

Along with the echoing water drops falling onto the stone floor underwear, echoes of sleeps from above the ceiling started to become the main sound. She curled into a ball, fingers digging into her own skin as she hoped to wake up from this nightmare-like situation she was in. Suddenly, voice and steps was all she could hear, the water drops being drown up by those sounds until the door slammed open.

“WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS BILLY, HUH” a thick bronx accent was now the only thing that filled the room and she daren’t  open her eyes, instead remaining scared on the floor. "DOES THIS FUCKING LOOK LIKE A 40 YEAR OLD WOMAN TO YOU?”

“I, I’m sorry, boss. She was in the dressing room and I thought it was her, I could see her face." she peaked her eyes open, still laying down on the floor, the same floor where four men stood looking down at her. She could barely make out all of their faces, probably a result of fear and adrenaline overpowering her brain yet she could make up one face. One face standing at the right end, with glossy eyes which appeared to be staring nowhere, was familiar to her. "It was a mistake, I’m sorry ... I ... I can go back.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, BILLY?” the man who had been yelling before hand, pulled his hand over his own face. “Soldat.”

“He’s a kid, John.” the man who she had spoken with before but whose name she still didn’t know said in a low, tired voice. 

"A kid? Well, what the fuck are we gonna do with THAT FUCKING KID THEN?” the John person pointed at her and she almost stumbled back but her body couldn’t move. She knew she could move her body but she seemed paralysed. Her mind was rushing miles and miles an hour but her body was frozen into place. "Tommy, I expected better from you.”

"I thought he had the right chick.” said the man who still hadn’t spoken, shrugging. 

The mood seemed to shift with that sentence alone, the carelessness of it turning the room bitter and colder than it already was. John’s jaw tightened, constricted muscles as he looked over to the only familiar man in the room with decisive eyes. The man was almost mechanical, grabbing the revolver stuck to his hip in his right hand before his eyes settled on her. Her heart seemed to stop beating, waves of cold shivers washing all over her as she prepared herself for the worse. However, his gaze darted to the side and hers follow and then ... bang. A thump onto the floor followed by silence and as she looked back to where her gaze had been stuck so, she saw Tommy laid on the ground, gunshot to the head, blood staining his dirty blonde hair, the same blood which had slightly splattered onto her face which merely seemed to further paralyse her.

“Get rid of her. Last thing I need is another loose thread.” John took a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaning whatever blood had splattered onto him as if it were merely water and not the substance which had kept the man who now lied dead on the ground alive. 

“She might be valuable.” he still held his gun in hand, seemingly unbothered by what had just happened. What kind of monster does that? “She might know people”

“What do you do?” John turned to her, talking down as if she were a child. She looked around, not entirely sure if she could even manage to make any words come out of her mouth. Her gaze once against settled on the familiar man who mouthed something to her. Lie.

"L-lyric soprano.” she wasn’t lying per say but she knew no chorus girl was valuable and if she wasn’t valuable, her faith was laying on the ground. If she survives, maybe someone can find her, maybe she can run away.

"It’s the New York Opera. The police are gonna be insane running after her and we can use her as a get out of jail free card. Almost like an expensive painting” 

John looked her up and down, biting the inside of his cheek and pondering his options but Y/N couldn’t stare or even look at him. Her eyes were instead focused on the gun still being held by the unnamed man, the same gun which had any time could go off and while her hopeful side was willing to survive and get out, the other part of her wondered if it would be a kinder faith. 

"Fucking clean this up, Billy.” John sighed before leaving the the room.

She curled up, body shivering as she could wear the body being pulled up the stairs before the door was closed, leaving her alone in the room. Time went by slowly or at least it felt slow to her yet she couldn’t do anything, all she could do is be trapped in her own panic as what once felt like a start became a dead end. Even once she could get up to try and find any creaks and cracks, anything which would translate into an escape option, a sudden wave of disappointment, betrayal and hopelessness would bring her back down and almost pin her to the now blood stained ground. All she could do was look at the ceiling, silent tears rushing down her face and she was back to being paralysed on the ground, the beads of her costume pinching and bruising her skin.

The door opened a few times in a time space which she couldn’t really pinpoint yet she didn’t look at the door, she merely looked at the ceiling trying to imagine that she was somewhere else. Trying she imagine she was anywhere else, anywhere but else in the dark, by her self with dried tears in the corner of her eyes and cheeks, mixing with the dried blood on her cheeks she didn’t have the strength to wipe away while it was fresh. The paralysis soon enough was replaced by numbness as her body shut down, preferring to be asleep than awake as if she was going to wake up in her flat.

Bucky closed the door for what felt like the fifth time, eyeing the untouched sandwich and glass of water which had been laying there for the past 7 hours just a few meters away from where she was laying. He thought about telling her to eat, ordering her even but he guessed she had seen enough and been through enough. Wiping his hand off the dust from the basement, he climbed up the stairs to the main floor. He knew that path like the back of his hand, he’d been there enough times to know how to get there blindfolded. After all, they didn’t call that the burner room for no reason. 

“Damn cops won’t get off my back.” John complained as he saw him. “This is what happens when we leave loose ends. Should’ve killed him when I had the fucking chance.”

“They don’t have any evidence.”

“I’m sure when they come into my fucking house and see I have Jenny Lind locked in my basement they’ll love it” he scoffed. “You need to take her out of here before they come snooping.”

“It’s not my mess to clean.” Bucky leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Ain’t Billy the one with that house in the Hamptons? Ask him, it’s his mess.”

“You think I’m going to trust Billy with my get outta jail card? Fucking idiot can’t even distinguish between a 40 year old and a 20 year old.” he snickered. “You keep her. You gotta flat in Brooklyn, don’t cha? No one’s gonna be looking at you.”

“And wait am I supposed to do with her hm? Handcuff her to my couch and hope she doesn’t scream until whenever?”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to spare her? I thought you’d learned your lesson from the last time you questioned me.” Bucky looked down at the floor, jaw locked, forehead muscles tense. “Thought so.”

Y/N woke up in a different place and while it was as dark as the basement, she knew it was somewhere else. She could feel herself moving but she herself wasn’t moving. She looked around, trying to look around for any indicators of her she was until she moved her hands up which came into contact with some sort of metal covered by a weird velvet like fabric. Was she in the trunk of a car? Her hand tried to look for the sign light to punch it out just like she had heard in school assemblies so, so many times yet as she finally found it, the car came to a very harsh stop. She held her breathe in, her ears registering footsteps which became louder and louder until the trunk of the car was pulled open. The harsh light hurt her eyes which she squeezed shut only to open them again. The same man from the dressing room stood over the trunk. She curled up against herself but he grabbed her bicep, easily lifting her from the trunk and onto the floor yet maintaining the grip on her bicep. 

She was in what looked like a garage, with green blueish lighting and while she could see a big closed door at the end, his grip on her bicep was a silent reminder for her not to try anything. Not only did he tower over her but she was almost sure he probably had a gun with him and she thought not to try. He led her to a lift, making sure she entered before he did. As the doors closed, that feeling of dread in her stomach mixed with the other one she had felt the very first time she saw him yet she daren’t look him in the eye. In all honesty, everything was blurry to her even as she walked into a small flat, the sound of the door behind closed and locked behind her being the only thing she really registered. 

The man walked up to his kitchen which was open concept with the living room and grabbed a bottle with amber liquid from the counter, pouring himself what she guessed was whiskey yet she wasn’t the most alcohol knowledgeable person, most of the times she couldn’t even drink milk, much less alcohol.

“You hungry?” he asked in an nonchalant tone as if she were merely a guest in this flat. Y/N looked behind her back to the door. “I would follow you if you tried it.”

“I ... I am not gonna tell anyone.” 

“It’s not my choice to make. You try to run and you’re successful and someone will just kill you. Your best choice is to stay put. They don’t like loose ends.” he downed whatever liquid was in the glass, putting it back on the counter. She remained there, not moving from the space between the door and the place where the kitchen began. The man sighed, grabbing a peach from a glass bowl on the counter and placing it just at the end, where it was closest to her. “Eat something, will you?”

“I don’t want to. Thank you.”

“There’s food in the fridge. Suit yourself.”

He left the room to enter one of the other rooms, leaving Y/N all alone in the middle of that room. Escape! Her mind yelled at her and she immediately moved back to the door, trying to push at the handle so it would open but the latched was locked shut. She turned around, looking for anything to jab the lock until she noticed the windows. Her most careful side would have told her not to do it but she had to. She had to escape, she couldn’t stay put. She had been working her whole life for that opportunity, working low paid jobs to pay for tuition at Julliard, not drinking, not dating, not having any lactose so her voice would be good enough, she couldn’t ... she just couldn’t lose that opportunity after putting her whole teenage years at stake just so she could have this opportunity. 

Y/N made her way to the window which led to a fire escape but was also locked. She looked over her shoulder to check if he had left the room before she pulled her arm back and to the front, her fist hitting the glass which cracked. She continued punching the glass with all the force she could manage despite the glass burying and cutting her skin until she had broken the window enough too climb out into the fire escape. As she prepared to put her leg over the cracked hole, two arms wrapped around her waist, pushing her back. She whimpered and moved around in the embrace, trying to get free. If only she could get free for a moment she could climb out, she could run away, she could go back to the opera house. 

“Stop.” he flushed her tighter to his chest, walking away from the window, away from her possibility of escaping. 

It didn’t take long for him to notice she was hurt, her blood falling onto his jacket as he pulled her further and further away. He brought her to the front of the sink, gloved hand lifting the tap up, making a constant stream of cold water come up. Through her constant fighting to get free he managed to get her hand under the water, shards of glass coming out onto the red stained water which whirled onto the drain. 

“Let me go.” he elbowed him in the chest but he continuously held her against the side of the sink, fingers rubbing against the top of her palm to unlodge the shards of glass of her skin. “I have to go, please let me go.”

“Calm down.”

“Stop.” she tried to wriggle her wrist off his hold. “I have to go.”

“I promise you that you will go. You stay put, you don’t try to run and in no time you’ll be back doing petty chores for divas.”

“Why should I trust you?” she looked at the sink filled with little shards of glass. 

“It’s either that or you’ll end up dead. What other choice do you have?” he stopped forcing her against the sink, leaning against the opposite corner. “Last thing I want is to lock you in a room. So what’s it gonna be?”

“You promise you’ll let me go?”

“You have my word.”

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi @unmagically​ @red-head011​ 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

This Is Still Marvel, Right?

Summary- 2.5k Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Wade Wilson x You. Deadpool the character from the comics is sitting across from the table from you, real right in front of your eyes. Not only is time travel a thing, but dimension travel is as well, and he is here for a very serious reason. Warnings- swears. Written for @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ CATFA 10th Anniversary Challenge. Prompts are highlighted. 

Masterlist

“You came from where?” Sam questioned with a tilt of his head, arms folded across his chest as he raised a quizzical brow at the man in all red. 

“And why the clown suit?” Bucky right next to him asked, trying to make sense of what was going on. 

“I’m from the X-Men verse, you know… bald dude in the wheelchair, Wolvie with butter knife hands, we have our own pigeon boy. Not as sweet as your wings though.” Wade said with a sigh. “And we had a Peter, but the winds… god the winds were too strong. I will never forget you Sugar Bear.” He sobbed in his hand a moment, sniffling a moment. 

You were thoroughly in shock, your jaw was dropped to the floor as Wade mother fucking Wilson sat in the interrogation chair, one leg crossed over the other, his ankle jiggling as he leaned forward on his elbows, planting his chin in his palms as he made an cooing sound at the two men. “Aww, they are so cute when they are confused, aren't they cute? The cutest little puppies.” He went to boop Bucky's nose, but Bucky reared his head back away from his hand and a whir of his hand closed around Wade's wrist, which caused the masked mercenary to gasp out excitedly. 

“THE WINTER SOLDIER ARM, VIBRANIUM UPGRADE. I keep telling Cable he needs this hook up, his isn't nearly as cool as yours. Mister Bucky Barnes Sir, can you sign my suit? I’m a super fan.” the white eyes of his mask widened and you finally managed to close your mouth watching all this.

Whatever this was, you were actually wondering if you weren't in some drugged hallucination right now. Mission gone wrong? You had eaten that turkey sandwich out of the compound fridge, maybe it was drugged and this was someone's payback for stealing their food.

“Come on man.” Sam snapped out, still trying to get a straight answer out of him. Bucky let go of his hand which Wade muttered to himself. 

“I'm never washing this hand, not ever.” He cradled it to his chest. “Just wait till I tell Chrome Dome who shook my hand.” 

“ANSWERS!” Bucky yelled out and Wade gasped at the outburst. Bucky reached over to grasp the mask and yanked it off, grimacing as Wade's appearance showed. Both Sam and Bucky recovered quite quickly, you were still freaking out in the corner and Wade gave a suggestive wink to the two of them. 

“Names Wilson, Wade Wilson. No relation to this saucy stud though.” He eyed Sam up and down with a purr, who scoffed at the sudden attention. “Don't worry, I know that one is crushing on you hard. The chemistry. I won't make a move on you. Winter Soldier though is fair game, eh?” He made a chef’s kiss motion after pointing at you. “So are you two… do you… fondue?” Wade asked, Sam and You looked at each other and made disbelieving faces at one another. “Oh we're not admitting feelings? My bad. I jumped ahead in the comics. So much sexual tension.” Making a donut shape with one hand and a pointer with the other, meshing them together, you could feel your throat close up and Sam’s eyes widen. Bucky was struggling to keep his calm at this point, Sam too. Wade made a motion to stand and get up. 

“Do we have any eats here?” He puts his hand on the handle to open the door and a knife flung through the air, landing right next to his face. Wade paused and turned around. “Here I thought this was still Marvel and not Dc. Tony would have offered me a snack by now.” He grumbled while sitting back down. “A falafel, blueberries, I know he likes to snack, I've seen the movies.” 

You finally got over your shock and went to sit across from him. “Mr.Wilson…” 

He put up a hand. “Pool please, Deadpool. Or Wade. Or you can call me Captain Deadpool. Too much?” He glanced up at Sam and Bucky. “Yea too much, just call me Wade.” 

“Wade.” you started again, trying to figure out how to approach this. “We’re confused, because you are a comic book character.” You pulled up your phone and pulled up a screen clip of his movie. 

Wade gasped and grabbed at your phone, studying it. “Look at that handsome son of a bitch. I'm so glad they picked Ryan Reynolds for the part, he looks just like me.” He held the phone up next to his face. “He’s so good looking, it's the Canadian genes.” Then handed it back, you tucked it away and he leaned forward to toss what looked like a beat up comic book on the table.

“What’s this?” You question, pointing at it.

“A comic book. You guys are just comic book characters and I'm here to fix your story. What? You seriously didn't know you are comic book characters in another universe?” 

“Our story?” You pulled the comic towards you and sure enough plastered on the front was Sam in his Falcon Suit, Bucky with his own gear and you were soaring in the air above slightly out of focus. 

“Yes, your story. Listen Cable, you all know Cable right? He's like a moodier you Buckaroo…” The name caused Bucky to growl a bit, but Wade continued without noticing. “... hooked me up with this cool device. Not like those stones you all have, this is some actual batman kind of future fuckery that I got rigged to not just travel back in time. But other dimensions. Whoo... “ He made wiggly fingers. “It's like magic right? Cool.” 

You were flipping through the pages as fast as possible, skimming the storyline. Amazingly all of it was there, the mission report Nick Fury brought Sam this morning, you and Bucky sparring and how he pinned you against the mat, the heart to heart about how you two missed Steve. 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose while Bucky looked over your shoulder at the comic book. “I'm getting a headache, or I'm losing it. Did I get hit in the head?” Sam rambled a bit and you got to the end of the comic, seeing that the mission Fury had given you three was completed, successfully. 

“Says there we did just fine.” Bucky said and you closed it before pushing it towards the center of the table. 

“It's not all just fine.” Wade threw up his hands in exasperation and you shook your head so confused. 

“Explain it to us Wade.” You grasped the comic again, flipping through it, scanning the pages as quick as you can. 

“Go to page 53.” He tapped his finger against the steel table and you did, the panel showing you and Sam standing on a roof top about to enter a building from above and Bucky was shown in another panel scaling a building. 

“I don't see it…” you shook your head confused as to what he was talking about and Wade pointed at the bottom, that was just barely in view. A hot dog cart. 

“You are here, from another dimension of life… because of a hot dog cart?” 

Wade nodded firmly. “If we don't protect that hot dog cart, bad things will happen.” His voice lowered, turning shifty. “Spooky stuff… anal stuff.” He shuddered and sat back, staring at the hot dog cart in the bottom of the picture. “If we don't protect that hot dog cart, it causes issues you couldn't even fathom. Another life just poof… what did y’all call it? Spanked out of existence?”

You just automatically corrected him. “Snapped.”

“Spanked sounds better, maybe consider changing it to spanked?” 

Sam cleared his throat. “You traveled through dimensions to get here so we could save a hot dog cart? I'm just- trying to keep it all straight. This isn't entirely the weirdest thing I have heard, but it's close.” 

Bucky scoffed. “I say this guy needs some help, maybe his brain got scrambled like mine.” 

“Nah, I didn't get the mind trip you did. I was tortured by a guy named Francis.” Wade snorted gleefully. “Called himself Ajax, like the dish soap!” Slapping his knee, he busted out laughing heavily, starting to cry. 

You rubbed at your face and looked over your shoulder. “I think we should trust him guys. What if what he says is true? We’ve dealt with crazy shit before.” 

“You can't be serious Y/N.” Bucky shook his head and Sam looked doubtful. Wade giggled as he wiped a tear from his eye, pointing a finger at you. 

“I like you, you're the smart one here I can tell.” 

You all turned to Sam who hadn't said anything yet. He sighed and rubbed at his face a bit, before finally saying under his breath. “I'm never going to hear the end of this… Lets take him.” 

Wade did a fist pump in victory, leaping up to grab his mask back from Bucky. “X-Force Ass-” You were quick to cover his mouth, leaving the “-emble” garbled. 

“He's going to get us killed, Wilson.” 

“I said to call me Deadpool or Captain Deadpool.” 

“I WAS TALKING TO HIM!” Bucky jerked his thumb at Sam, gritting his teeth while he yanked open the door and left the room. Deadpool followed after him, the next thing you heard was Bucky hollar. “I'm going to kick your ass Prick.” 

“Will you? You're making me all excited. Like a fairy making a little girl's wishes come true, I feel like I could fly.” 

Then you and Sam heard something loud crack and Wade’s cooing grew fainter. “Nice boots, Tinkerbell!” 

You snatched the comic book and stuffed it in your back pocket. “Uh we probably better go stop Bucky. It's pointless for him to try to kill Wade and will just tire himself out.” 

Sam opened the door, holding it open for you. “Should we really take that away from him?” 

“True and it sounds like Wade is having himself a fan moment anyways and doesn't care.” You stepped out to see Bucky and Wade tangled together wrestling.

Just as the comic stated, You and Sam were able to go in from the top. You could see Bucky below you using rigging to scale the building. Down further below you could see a red dot pushing a hot dog cart down the street well out of harm. Speaking into the comm’s, your wings folded to pull you into a spiral, spinning towards the roof. “Wade’s got the cart moved, and were clear to enter.” 

There was a grunt in the comms and Bucky's voice crackled through. “Well damn, I'm glad the hot dog cart is safe… for reasons spanning an entire dimension that we still don't know.” 

“Who are we to question it, Bucky? I mean, we’ve seen some pretty strange shit.” You stated as Sam landed next to you, shooting at the door and ducking inside together. “Maybe this is just another one to add to the pile.” 

Silence descended on the group as you each made to fulfill the mission. Once the building was clear and the three of you were working on exiting, Wade was waiting on the roof, sitting on the edge eating a hot dog and had three more lined up next to him. “I brought you all lunch, you guys do that sort of thing right? Good Mission? yes I bet. Buckaroo has the happy murder gleam in his eyes.” He took another bite of his hot dog and chewed while studying Bucky closely. 

“Don't do that.” Bucky shuddered a bit and Wade proceeded to pop the last bite into his mouth and chewed slowly while rolling the bottom half of his mask down. 

“Do what Buckaroo?” 

“Stare at me or call me Buckaroo.” 

“While eating a hot dog? Only way to properly eat one. I know you love it James. Well my mission here is done.” He pushed off the ledge to give you a hug and handed you a manilla envelope. “This is for you, it explains everything. Toodleloo Kiddies, it was fun knowing you. Oh and if you see Hugh Jackman on the street, tell him his coffee sucks and bitch slap the prick.” He jumped back on the ledge and looked over the edge. “Oh this is gonna kill my knees but this is a true superhero moment. Wait for it…” He gave you all a salute and stepped over, plummeting down. Sam and Bucky rushed the edge, looking over. 

You knew better, a superhero landing wouldn't kill him. 

“NAILED IT!” you three barely heard, then in a flash of sparks, Deadpool was gone. 

“I thought for sure he was going to pancake down there.” Bucky said with a hint of sadness and Sam shook his head. 

“We gotta get out of here before we're caught and get this back to Fury.” Sam held up a chip that held the actual intel of the mission. 

You silently agreed and together the three of you made your way off the building and back home. 

Afterwards once you were back in the tower and changing out of your suit, you glanced at the manilla envelope Wade left you. 

Sitting down on the bench, you opened it and peeked in. What looked like another comic book was in there as well as a letter. Pulling out the letter, you scanned it. 

~To the Super Duper Trio, 

Thank you for believing me. It was crucial. We're not the only comic book verse out there living our lives. Sometimes they cross intersect in ways that I can't explain, go find the wizard, he can tell you more about it. Also ask him to your next party, because he can do the COOLEST TRICKS. But if you take out the comic book enclosed you will see on page 23 there is a hot dog cart as well as a familiar looking dork named Jake Jensen. Alias- Capt Jensen. 

Perhaps your Captain is alive in some way, the DC universe having changed him to a loveable, cat hating, Petunias loving, super smart idiot.

Tell Birdman thanks for the vote of confidence, caw caw mother fucker.

Tell Buckaroo he forgot to sign my suit, I will be back. He is my favorite after all. 

And what I wanna tell you is take care of those idiots so they dont kill each other. 

With Love, 

Captain Deadpool

Ps- Yes Cap’s as awkward with women in DC as he was in Marvel. 

Pss- Welcome to X-Force! I will be in touch. 

You pulled out the comic book and glanced at the cover seeing six people staring down, the title of the comic- The Losers. Flipping to the page, you found a photograph tucked in between the pages, showing another version of the page. One where the street looked demolished and a man lying crumbled by a cart. Also a familiar hot dog cart leaned on its side, demolished. 

Setting the picture aside, now you glanced over this panel to see the same man making a show of pulling out a crossbow, the bubble above his head with the words “That’s right, bitches, I got a crossbow!” 

The scene didn't really surprise you that much, more like the character now alive in the comic looked just like Steve. 

A thinner version, he had facial hair, and the entire get up was never anything Steve would have willingly worn. 

But it looked just like Steve Rogers and for the second time that day your jaw dropped. 

Maybe Wade Wilson was right, after all… 

Nothing was off limits and stranger things have happened.

[britishassistant]

The multiple Yuus' suffering won't end yet.

I feel like Villain! Yuu and Villainous Paranoiac! Yuu are similar personality-wise but do you mind switching them too?

I can imagine them sleeping with one eye open in their new world, cuz they don't trust anyone.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

You cover your nose and mouth to muffle your breathing as best you can.

Costumed adults run past your hiding place, crouched behind a series of pipes. They’re boiling hot, feeling like they could burn through your thin pajama sleeves even though you’re trying to keep your distance from them while staying concealed.

“Princess? Oh, little Princess? Come out, come out, wherever you are~” The voice of the older woman who tried to kill you when you woke up croons. You can see her shadow on the wall next to you.

Your lip curls involuntarily at the nickname, and you hunch down further into yourself.

“Are you sure we wanna do this?” The other man asks. “If the Night Raven finds out about this...”

“He won’t.” The woman snaps. “Not if we do this properly. That pampered little brat needs to die. If it’s another one of those annoying alternate versions, killing this one means there’ll be no way for our version to switch back here. If it’s a de-aged version, then even better. Either way, we’ll finally be free of that weak, pathetic pushover of an employer. Now go check over there!”

“R-right!”

You watch as their shadows move across the wall, until they vanish as their owners exit through the doors on the other side of the room.

You bite the skin on the side of your thumb. You thought this place was where that...reporter version of you came from, and that you were in the lair of one of the seven supervillains you met before, but everything you’ve seen and heard so far runs counter to that hypothesis. None of them were using the whole clockwork and steam motif that this place is decorated with, and the way those...minions? were talking, it sounds like a version of you is the one running this place.

And not very well, judging by the employee dissatisfaction.

You want to just curl up and stay hidden behind these pipes forever, but the longer you stay here, the more likely it is you’ll be cornered with no chance to run. Plus the heat’s making your head spin, and you know with your luck you’ll end up burning yourself. Better to get out now while the getting’s good.

You slip out, and go through the door that the two minions came from, peeking around to make sure the coast is clear before darting for the next bit of cover. You wish not for the first time you had shoes to muffle the sound of your bare feet against the rough floor.

You need to find an exit, get out of here as fast as you can. But if you can’t find a way to distract the minions, how long will it be until they just follow you to wherever you try to take sanctuary, just like the Scarabia students did back over winter break?

You’re in an even worse spot that you were then. At least then, you had Grim with you.

Here? You’re all alone. Defenseless.

Your right ankle twinges again, making you stumble and clip a bunch of nearby boxes. You frantically need to spread your arms to catch the boxes so the crash of them falling over doesn’t alert any of the security.

And injured. Can’t forget your overblot injuries.

You’re already panting after running for only a few minutes, your lungs burning in your chest. Nurse Kamac told you you’d find physical exertion much harder now, but it’s one thing to hear it and another thing entirely to feel how much effort it takes to do things you used to be able to do with ease, how much your body protests against the one advantage you used to have, how much more useless you are now.

You slump at a corner, sweat beading on your brow. Your vision is swimming, and your knees feel unsteady under you.

Something liquid and hot is sliding down your collarbone. You think your throat is bleeding again.

“Kreek?”

You yelp, tripping over your own feet at the sound, hitting the ground with a hard thud. You whip your head around to find the source of the noise.

There is a huge crow perched on a pipe above you.

It’s massive. Are birds allowed to get that big?

It tilts its head at you, before taking off from its perch and fluttering down to land next to you, hopping a few steps closer.

“H-hey, nice birdie...” You rasp. Then, recalling something the minions said earlier, you venture, “...Are you the Night Raven?”

There’s a moment of silence.

Then the crow erupts into a raucous, croaking squawks that sound suspiciously like laughter.

You purse your lips, running a hand through your sweaty bangs. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It’s not like I’ve been sent to a whole other world again or anything, and whoever this ‘Night Raven’ is seems to be the only thing between me and those guys who think killing me will ensure some supervillain also ends up dead. Because of course they do, that’s just how my life is, it’s not like I don’t already know my birth was enough of a mistake. Ugh.”

You drop you head onto your knees and squeeze your eyes shut tight. You’re tired. You’re sore.

You just wanna wake up back in your bed at Ramshackle with Grim cuddled up next to you, muttering about tuna, and have all of this be some horrible nightmare.

You flail at the feeling of a series of sharp pinches on your good shoulder and a heavy, warm weight unbalancing you. “Hey, what the—!”

The crow croaks at you from its new perch on your shoulder, looking both mildly annoyed and unphased by your floundering. You jerk as it’s wickedly sharp beak darts forward and—!

Closes around a section of your mussed up bangs?

The bird pulls your hair back into place as best it can, tugging hard on your scalp as it repeats the process until it’s satisfied you’ve been groomed enough.

It is one of the weirdest experiences you’ve ever undergone. And you’ve played in a Heartslaybul crocket match.

The crow pushes off your shoulder, smacking you in the face with one of it’s wings in the process. It lands on another set of pipes some distance away and turns back to look at you. It caws in a distinctly impatient tone when you don’t immediately follow it.

You weigh your options. On the one hand, it could be leading you into a trap, and you’ll end up dead, though that doesn’t explain why it would try to groom you. You also don’t know your way around this place, and ignoring the bird could lead to it making even more noise as it attempts to get your attention again, which would alert your pursuers and get you killed even faster.

“So I’m following birds now. It’s official. I’ve finally lost it.” You mutter to yourself, pushing yourself shakily to your feet, and counting yourself lucky your vision only goes fuzzy once when you’re upright.

The crow guides you through the...lair is the only word suitable for it. It has a knack for landing on areas that will allow you to take some cover should some of the minions looking for you pass by, hissing whenever it wants you to stay put, and giving that same impatient caw once it’s time to move on again.

It’d be nice if that system could be foolproof.

Unfortunately, as you’re running past a doorway that you thought was clear, you hear a cry of, “HERE! THEY'RE HERE!! THE IMPOSTER IS OVER HERE!!”

You curse, and make yourself run faster, trying to ignore how it pulls the ridged scars along your left thigh and hip and your sudden shortness of breath. You can’t afford to acknowledge that right now, especially when you yelp as actual gunfire erupts behind you and real, genuine bullets whiz past your head to embed themselves in the stacked boxes near you.

The crow has the same idea, taking off to fly just ahead of you, soaring into the faces of any minions who try to cut off the path it’s leading you down with sharp talons and beak at the ready.

You follow it to a huge room, slamming the large double doors shut behind you.

You shove back against them as the doors jump when your pursuers collide with it. Your breath is coming in harsh pants as you fumble with the bolt and padlock, barely clicking it shut before the entrance is forced open.

You stumble away, blindly colliding with a desk and hitting the floor as you desperately and feebly try to suck in air that your lungs can’t seem to inhale, your breaths getting shallower and and more panicked as your vision fuzzes out again. You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe—

A loud cry erupts above you, and you faintly see dark shapes descend down on you, feeling dozens of sharp pinches on your upper body, the force of what feels like dozens of dozens of wings dragging your upper body up and back until you’re leaning upright against something and there’s a monumental. warm, fluffy weight against your chest, alternating between getting heavier and lighter, forcing it to expand and contract in intervals of four seconds under it.

It takes a while, but eventually, your hyperventilating finally, finally stops, as you carefully and slowly suck in grateful lungfuls of oxygen and your eyesight gradually returns.

Then you have to blink hard.

You are covered in what you think Epel would describe as a metric fuckton of birds.

They’re all staring at you, some of them picking at your pajamas, others making a caw-like noise that can only be best described as a worried peep.

You lift a hesitant hand to try and maybe shoo some of them off, only for your heart to melt as one of them honest-to-Seven nudges into your palm, like it wants you to pet it or something.

You wonder if the supervillain version of you trained them to do this. If so, at least they did one thing right, because Great Seven this is adorable.

The monsterous crow who led you here lands next to you, squawking and flapping its wings indignantly. The black birds gradually hop off you at this display, much to your subtle disappointment.

“Alright, alright, I’m up.” You grumble, shakily pulling yourself to your feet. “Now what Crow?”

The leader of the birds lands on top of the desk you hit earlier, tapping on some sheets of paper with its beak. You pull them towards you, trying to puzzle out what you’re seeing. It looks like some kind of...schematic? For a water-powered machine that seems to be the power source of a death ray or something. What’s most interesting though is the part of the plans with a section labelled ‘self destruct’ near the top of the construction.

“Okay, so this going boom would make for a good distraction so I could escape.” You chew at your nail. “But now I’ve got to find where it is so I can do that...”

The crow pecks at your other hand. When you pull it away, it shoots you an unimpressed glare and turns around.

You lift your head and follow where it’s looking.

There, along the back wall of this huge room, sits an absolute behemoth of metal and glass surrounded by scaffolding, a huge clear water tank like the one in the plans already filled to the brim and gurgling with movement.

Oh.

You purse your lips at the Crow, which is still shooting you an unimpressed glare. “In my defense, I was kind of having too much trouble trying to keep those guys out, and then breathing to really notice...that.”

It laughs at you again.

There’s a percussive boom from the doors, all the birds taking off and circling with warning squawks.

You push off of the desk as you dash towards the machine, trying to ignore how you want to flinch as several more booms follow the first one. You grab the scaffolding and frantically pull yourself up, trying to climb as fast as you can. If you can just reach the top before they break through—!

There’s an ear-splitting explosion as the doors fly open.

“THERE! THERE THEY ARE!! STOP THEM!!”

You shriek as the gunfire starts again, the need to climb, to get away warring with the instinct to try curling up as small as you can so you’re less of a target.

Your footing slips when you jump to grab the last ledge, leaving you to desperately grab onto the scaffolding with your bad arm. You whimper at how the rounded scars on your shoulder scream in protest at taking almost all your weight, the blackened bite mark on your elbow throbbing with pain like a second heartbeat.

You feel a flare of agony in your right thigh that makes you almost lose your grip. You whine through your teeth as you grab onto the metal and heave yourself up and over, rolling away from the ledge and curling up so your attackers can’t hit you.

“Cease fire! Cease fire you idiots! You’ll break the tank!!”

It takes you a second to realize that you’re curled around the circular podium where the schematics said the self-destruct button was mounted.

“Come down, Princess!” The older woman’s voice floats up to you. “You don’t know what you’re doing up there, do you? There’s nowhere left for you to run. Just be a good little nepotist and come face your fate with some dignity. I swear to you it’ll be quick.”

You grit your teeth as you haul yourself up. “Fat chance.”

You can see her at the head of the pack now, scoffing as her face twists with hate. “Typical. Bloody typical isn’t it? Even the other version of you was an ungrateful little shit, but at least it knew when to keep its head down and listen to its betters. It’s galling to be demoted to working under an imposter, a fake human like that thing!! Spending all its time with birds and playing around with those stupid civilians, hah! You’re no better than an animal! Just a dumb little pet that the Night Raven thought would be funny to give a title and call his ‘heir’!! A disgrace to the pursuit of villainy and evil!!”

“Are you sure about that?”

You take far too much delight in the way she pales as she sees your hand hovering over the self-destruct button.

“H-hold on princess,” She babbles, reaching a futile hand up. “W-we can talk about this, just don’t—”

“Shut. Up.” You growl. “If you wanted a heroic little fairytale princess to terrorize, you picked the worst person you could.”

“‘Cause me? I’m the damn wicked witch.”

You slam you fist down on the button.

There’s a wailing of alarms as the structure below you shakes. Tons upon tons of water bursts out of the machine.

The woman can’t even scream as the flood swallows her.

The crows caw wildly above your head, and you tear your eyes away to see the largest one leading the flock in flapping around a ladder leading to a hatch in the roof. You stagger over to it, your hands almost slipping off the metal rungs several times.

You push hard on the metal hatch and breath in the cold, dry air of the outside, the rough stony roof feeling like it’s cutting into your feet. You can still hear the alarms blaring as you close the hatch again after the last of the birds have flown out.

You’re tired. So tired. Your eyesight is going blurry again and the right leg of your pajamas feels uncomfortably wet, giving off little pulses of agony that has you whimpering.

“Hey, Crow?” Your voice sounds very far away. “I think I’mma pass out now.”

The world tilts sideways before everything goes black.

[azucanela]

1. FAKE DATING / ENGAGEMENT | TODOROKI SHOUTO

1K CELEBRATION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Dating his publicist out of pure practicality had been a pretty good bad idea, continuing to date his publicist because he was beginning to enjoy the perks of his —albeit fake— relationship was an ever better bad idea. Proposing to said publicist because he wanted to anger his father was just a bad idea in general, but hey, the look on Endeavor’s face was worth it.  

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: kissing, enji todoroki deserves a warning, t

A/N: hehe shoto and a two for one

It had started out as something to piss off his father, if Shouto was honest. 

Shouto was now an upcoming Pro Hero that was rising through the charts, and Enji had been trying to mend his relationship with the rest of his family for a while now. This was something Fuyumi strongly supported seeing as she’d suggested hosting a weekly family dinner ever since Shouto was in his second year at UA. 

He hated those dinners if he was honest, but Shouto attended them out of courtesy for his sister. Natsuo wasn’t as polite as he could’ve been but Shouto found it entertaining to watch as he made several passive aggressive comments, much to Fuyumi’s dismay.

Shouto couldn’t help but feel the need to defy his father as well, in his own way. Which is why he brought along Y/N L/N, a young, quirkless, businesswoman he’d met during his second year at UA. She’d gotten into the the UA business course, and now served as a publicist on his team. Asking her to pretend to be his girlfriend was a rather... difficult task, but he managed to convince her fairly easily since they were close friends and she seemed to notice how much his father pestered him. Inviting her to one of these weekly dinners had probably been the biggest mistake he’d ever made.

That dinner had a lot of tension. 

As far as the Todoroki Family knew, Shouto had been dating Y/N for two years, and things were very serious between the two. Which is probably the reason why Enji felt the need to retaliate by beginning to invite other young Pro Heroes to the dinners, ones that seemed to have an interest in Shouto. Shortly after that, Y/N began to attend the weekly dinners more frequently, and Shouto had a feeling he was in too far when they kissed for the first time and he enjoyed it. 

Now, Shouto always had a feeling that Enji disliked Y/N, but he’d never outright expressed those feelings. Until now, that is.

“Excuse me?” 

Enji brought a hand to his temple as he inhaled deeply, “Shouto, you can’t tell me you intend to spend your life with your quirkless publicist.” 

Shouto scoffed at his words, eyes cold as he met Enji’s stare, “that’s what this is about? The fact that she’s quirkless? You can’t be serious.”

This was supposed to be a nice little family vacation, something Fuyumi had once again suggested. Shouto had brought along Y/N, feeling that he owed her some sort of enjoyable experience for putting her through the hell that was his family. It was a nice beach house, large enough that she could easily avoid his family while enjoying the perks of the it all. Not that Y/N needed to avoid his family, Natsuo and Fuyumi actually liked her quite a bit, Enji on the other hand? Well, this seemed to be Enji Todoroki’s version of an intervention.

“Shouto, you have potential-”

The room grows as cold as Shouto glares, “Y/N is one of the most impressive people I know, and if you think the fact that she’s quirkless discredits anything she’s done, then you haven’t changed at all.” He practically slams his glass onto the table beside him as he rises from his seat, heading towards the exit of the room. 

“This conversation isn’t over Shouto.”

No, it was done, very, very, very done. Because Shouto already had a plan. A very irrational, illogical, reckless plan that would likely prove to be a very big mistake.

Y/N on the other hand, had just gotten started on her daily routine. Stretching her arms above the bed she and Shouto had been forced to share in order to keep up the illusion that they were a couple. Though he’d already woken up it appeared, normally they’d both still be in bed, seeing as this was a vacation. Y/N didn’t mind sharing a bed with him if she was honest, in fact, Shouto was the perfect person to sleep beside because of his quirk. 

She didn’t mind any of this arrangement, and maybe that was a problem. 

The last thing Y/N had expected from Shouto was a request for a fake girlfriend, he’d explained how he though he should probably inform her of his plan seeing as she was his publicist. Y/N had been in shock as he continued to say he had a few people he was thinking about asking, only for Y/N to shut down the idea entirely. 

There were far too many variables, what if the person he selected exposed him for the false relationship later on in his career, what if they were bad at keeping secrets, what if they weren’t up for all the false acts of love, even worse what if they did fall in love with him?

Shouto saw the solution as having Y/N become his fake girlfriend.

And for some reason, Y/N found herself agreeing. Because she would never expose the fact that the relationship had been a lie the whole time, not when it was her job to preserve Shouto’s image. And she was perfectly okay with false displays of affection, she would surely never fall in love with Shouto Todoroki. He was her boss, and her close friend, developing feelings for him, or anyone else for that matter, just wasn’t in her cards.  

She kinda sorta failed. 

Now, Fuyumi would not stop giving her false hope, speaking of how she’d never seen Shouto so happy, how she was jealous of the way he looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention, the girl had even suggested that Shouto would propose soon.

If only she knew that this entire relationship was a petty lie, made to get back at the Pro Hero Endeavor for his not so subtle attempts at finding Shouto a partner that would likely create a... powerful grandchild to say the least. Y/N just so happened to be the most convenient person to anger the man, seeing as she was quirkless and all. 

Y/N was too busy glaring at the ceiling to hear the door unlock, lost in her thoughts, though she didn’t fail to hear the sound of the door slamming shut. Raising her brow, Y/N shifted in the bed to face the door to the room she and Shouto had claimed, which could be compared to a hotel suite. 

Shouto had moved straight to the dresser across from the bed, where his wallet, keys and a discarded tie from the dinner reservations they’d attended last night, were. Y/N propped herself up on her forearms in an attempt to get a better look at him as he grabbed his wallet and keys, shoving them into his pockets. “Shouto what are you doing?” 

He turned around almost instantly, and Y/N didn’t fail to notice the crease between his brows, though it disappeared almost instantly when he saw her. “Did I wake you?” Was his response, voice quiet as he watched her.

“You didn’t answer my question, Sho.” 

He’s silent for a moment, and Y/N wonders if he’s simply ignoring her question, though he moves closer to the bed, and Y/N watches as he takes a seat at the edge of it. “I’m going out.” 

“Can I come?” Y/N is sitting up, just for Shouto to grab her shoulder and gently push her back down.

There’s a small smile on his face as he shakes his head, “go back to bed.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, bringing her hand over his, “I happen to like hanging out with you.” She averts his gaze, which is now fixated on her, “also your family scares me.”

She can see him frown from the corner of her eyes, and Y/N is about to assure him that she’s joking, when his interlocks with his, removing them from her shoulder and laying them down in her lap as he practically examines them. The intimate action distracts her, though it’s become more frequent for Shouto to do things like this even when they are alone. Shouto’s hands are fidgeting with her own when he finally speaks, “do I scare you?” And he sounds almost scared of what her reply might be.

“No.” The answer comes without thought, and immediately after the question leaves his mouth, causing Shouto to look back up at her. “Never.”

Shouto’s eyes meet hers and Y/N can’t really decipher the look on his face, but that doesn’t really matter since his hands drop hers as he brings them to her face, only to pull her into a kiss. 

It was by no means the first time they’d kissed, but it was definitely different. The first kiss was practically oozing hesitation, gentleness, and it was purely because Enji hadn’t stopped glaring at Y/N the entire night she’d been at the dinner table. This was harsh, firm, as though he had something to prove. Y/N can feel the anger he was radiating when he entered the room, but the weirdest part of the kiss is how intimate it was. Because they’d never been in private when they kissed, everything was public, to portray the likeness of a real couple.

Y/N can’t help it when her hands find their way to Shouto’s arms, gripping them tightly as she kisses back with equal fervor. This only seems to encourage Shouto’s sudden action as he gently lays her back onto the bed, one hand slipping behind her to her back, pressing her body closer to his. Y/N’s hand begins to move up his arm and to the nape of his neck, threading into Shouto’s hair as she pulls him closer.

This was very different.

Shouto pulls away, head moving to her neck to press a kiss against it before exhaling deeply as they remained like that for a moment, before Shouto separated himself from her, “I’ll be back.”

Y/N is still laying in the bed in shock at what just happened, but when she hears the door close, she finds herself feeling tempted to scream into her pillow because what the hell just happened? There was no reason to be so... intimate in the privacy of their room, and Shouto seemed to be seething with anger when he initially entered. And there was only one thing that could’ve set Shouto off.

His father, they must’ve had a conversation already, but so early in the morning? Y/N hadn’t seen Shouto so angry since... ever.  Now, if Shouto was honest he didn’t know what possessed him to head to the jeweler he saw on their way to the beach, but here he was. Was Shouto prepared to propose purely because his father had insinuated that his —fake— relationship wouldn’t last? Yes. Did he potentially have actual feelings for Y/N? Shouto wasn’t sure. He’d never been in an actual relationship, but he’d also never felt this way.

It was horrifying. The way his heart seemed to pick up speed whenever she was around, the way his right side, the side that created ice, seemed to heat up. Or the odd flutter in his stomach whenever she smiled at him, the way he never wanted to let go once she wrapped her arms around him. 

Maybe proposing wasn’t the best idea, proposing without informing Y/N he intended to propose was probably an even worse idea, but Shouto wasn’t really thinking as he made his unlocked the door of the beach house. 

Looking back on it, he definitely should’ve told Y/N but the look on his father’s face, the pure astonishment‚ and maybe even disgust, was fantaastic Along with the claps and cheers from the strangers on the boardwalk, the support from his siblings, well it was worth it. Worth the anger that Y/N was now displaying, very clearly. She didn’t seem to mind earlier when he’d gotten down on one knee, in fact, she’d started crying, though Shouto supposed this was just another part of their act. God, he wished it wasn’t an act. 

“Shouto, what the hell was that?” 

She’d forced him to take a seat on the bed they’d spoken on earlier, and though Shouto probably should’ve been paying more attention to her words, his eyes had been glued to her hand, particularly her ring finger. “A proposal.”

“Yes! A proposal we did not discuss, at all, might I add.” Y/N ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at the roots as she inhaled deeply, “Shouto you don’t just, propose to someone out of nowehere—”

His brows furrow at this, “my understanding was that most proposals are spontaneous.”

Y/N groans, turning away from him momentarily in a last ditch attempt to collect herself. If Y/N was honest, she was finding herself getting more and more caught up in their lies, when he got down on one knee, she almost forgot that everything between them was fake.

Almost. 

“Yes, that’s true.” She mumbles, turning back to face him, “however, that’s for real couples. Every aspect of this relationship is planned because this isn’t a relationship, it’s more like— like a contract. And we agreed to have a fake break up within the next two months.” She vividly recalled the discussion, Shouto had randomly become distant, avoiding her calls despite the fact that it was her job to speak within him. When he’d finally approached her, he told her they needed to plan their break up soon.

The only part of this relationship that wasn’t planned or staged was probably that moment they had together earlier that day. 

Shouto isn’t saying anything, in fact, he looks rather deep in thought, and Y/N can’t help the frustration that bubbles up inside her as she stares at him, awaiting a response. “Shouto, are you even listening to me?”

His eyes flicker upwards, meeting hers. Y/N can see them soften, and the look on his face effectively halts her pacing. Shouto takes this as a chance to grab her hand, rubbing gentle circles onto it as he speaks, “I’m always listening to you.” He shuts his eyes temporarily, breathing deeply before looking back up at her, “what if I don’t want us to plan things anymore?”

Y/N finds herself feeling breathless as she replies, “what?” She clears her throat, “what do you mean, Shouto?”

“I don’t want to plan things.” He repeats, fingers toying with the ring she now dawned on her left hand, eyes fixated on the jewel that Y/N had a feeling was ridiculously expensive. “And I don’t want a contract.”

Confusion floods Y/N as she watches him, nothing he did today had made sense. That moment on the bed that he’d initiated, the proposal, this. Shouto just wasn’t making sense and Y/N was becoming desperate, desperate to understand what exactly he was trying to say. “Then what do you want?”

He’s silent for a moment, contemplating his next words, Shouto wonders if she feels the same way. But he’d once made a promise to her, to be honest and transparent throughout this entire arrangement they had, and Shouto kept his promises, especially if they were to her. 

So he replied, “you.” Looking up at Y/N, he could see the shock, the confusion on her face, “I want you.” He straightens in his seat on the bed, “for real.” 

He expects her to tear her hand from his, maybe rip the ring off her finger and throw it at him. Perhaps it’s dramatic, but he also expects her to ridicule him for desiring her, for wanting an actual relationship. It wouldn’t be in Y/N’s nature, he knows this, but maybe a brutal rejection would make it hurt less. 

Instead, Y/N nods slowly, allowing a shaky breath to escape her as she brings her hands to his face, “guess I’m marrying into quite the family.” She mumbles, before pressing her lips to his.

This is good. Yeah, this was good.

A/N: yeah idk kasdkashd this is unedited so oops if its bad

TAGLISTS[lmk if you want to be added or removed via asks or replies]

BNHA: @beifongsss​ @shawkneecaps​

[heartofsnark]

He’s Not Real, She’s Not Pretending (Johnny Silverhand/OC Female V)

Notes; Sooooooo, I’m posting porn for a game that won’t be out in 20 days, that I just started to seriously look at 2 days ago, but ummmm Johnny Silverhand like fuck man. He’s living rent free in my head both in game and irl. I already have an oc and I really wanted some fuck, so my V is named Aidan, she is a baby and a a slut in this context. This is completely based off oh hey, if we fuck in game, and Johnny in brain, Johnny watch us fuck. And then it spiraled. 

Word Count: 4303

Chapter Warnings: Voyeurism, Unprotected Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Cum Swallowing,  Protected Vaginal Sex, One Night Stand/Semi Anonymous Sex, Calling out the wrong name, MMF Threesome, but like while he gets laid Johnny is like lowkey cucking this guy but he don’t even know cause he can’t see the man cucking him, its weird, metal fingers on clit, like that’s a thing here, cumming on someone/semi-facial???? And the weirdest thing to explain is like, she’s deaf and takes out her hearing aids, so she’ll only hear johnny since he’s in her head that bypasses hearing damage, so like, disability device being removed for sex????? What is this??? Who knows?????

Edit: I HAD A FUCKIN SENIOR CITIZEN MOMENT AND FORGOT TO MENTION; @enchantedbythebidders IS ALSO TO BLAME BECAUSE SHE HELPED PUT THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD, SO THIS IS NOT ALL MY FAULT!

“Really, this guy?” Johnny scoffs and rolls his eyes, leaning against the bar. Aidan is once again somewhat thankful that no one else can hear the long dead Rockstar that lives in her head. 

She pretends she doesn’t hear him either, despite him being the one voice other than her own who she can hear no matter what. The man standing in front of her is attractive, as far as she’s concerned, over 6ft with plenty of muscle and some cybernetics glinting against the side of his shaved head. The alcohol in her system has made it easier to ignore Johnny, but it brings the reason she’s here to the forefront of her mind. 

Aidan needs to get laid, plain and simple. She hasn’t had a proper orgasm since Johnny started living rent free in her head. There’s a certain level of embarrassment at just how easily and maybe even unavoidably peeps on her. He pops visibly into the world whenever he feels convienet, for him that is, and seems to make a habit of making sure she knows he’s there when she’s in some state of undress. Johnny’s watched her change without a hint of shame, making comments on her body and laughing at her reactions, like he’s not the weirdo. He’s sat in the bathroom while she showers, talking to her about plans of burning the city down, like she wasn’t fucking naked. 

Safe to say, she hasn’t ventured into what would happen if she tried to get off with him around. She doesn’t need him making snide comment while she has a hand in her panties. But, with a hookup, another person and a decent amount of booze. She may just be able to distract and loosen herself up enough that she won’t even notice him, though he has a habit of making himself impossible to ignore. But regardless, the former nomad needs this, she’s constantly tense and finding herself horny at every provocation, her dumb sexually frustrated lizard is even starting to think Johnny’s hot which is not a road she needs to traverse. Talking to the ghost in your brain is one thing, trying to find out if his holographic form comes with a dick is another. 

“You do remember I can hear your thoughts, right, Samurai?”  

“Is everything okay? You seem distracted?” The guy, who’s name she’s already forgotten, asks. As if she needed more reason to ignore Johnny. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, there’s just been something kind of annoying nagging at the back of my mind. But I’m good, you wanna get out of here?” 

“Yeah, sounds good, there’s a motel not far from here.” 

“What are we waiting for then?” 

“Ugh,” Johnny groans and rolls his eyes, evaporating into cyan static as Aidan leaves with her bedmate for the night. 

Hands reach up into her bleached bob as the man presses Aidan against the door, his lips against hers, a strangers tongue roaming her mouth. She puts her hand over his, attempting to move it lower, as nice as her hair and face being touched is… This isn’t romance, she wants to be groped, manhandled, to feel him squeeze her ass or shove his hand down her pants. Even at the door before they’ve entered the room, she just wants to get fucked. But he doesn’t get the memo. His hand doesn’t move from cupping the back of her head. 

“Didn’t go for brains, did ya?” Johnny’s voice taunts and Aidan bites down harder on the stranger’s buttom lip than needed, her annoyance for Johnny seeping through her actions. 

Normally, when someone annoys the everloving fuck out of her, as Johnny is so prone too. She’d remove her hearing aids, submit herself to silence until they get bored and fuck off. But, Johnny’s in her fucking head, his voice echoing through her mind as clearly as her own thoughts, the only noise in this world she can’t shut off. 

Aidan reaches behind her, opening the motel door and stepping into it, tugging the guy, what the hell was his name again, in by the bottom of his t-shirt. Kiss broken, she watches as he closes the door behind him, right in the holographic Johnny’s face. If that would actually prevent him from following, she’d be ecstatic. She’s sure he’ll be back in a moment, because he’s never fucking gone for more than a heartbeat. Doesn’t matter, she decides, this isn’t about Johnny. It’s about scratching her itch and cumming. She yank her shirt off over her head and throws her bra after it, whats-his-name, blinks for a moment before his eyes look over her breasts; pale and freckled. It was sudden, a quick cut to the chase, and she knows that. 

“I, uh, really fuckin’ need this.” She admits, face flushing. 

“Hey, no need to beat around the bush then,” the guy laughs, and he has such a pretty smile, she wishes she remembered his name. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you that damn desperate?” Johnny’s laugh mingles with the strangers, now plopped down on a chair in the motel room, “you gonna start humping his leg, next?” 

The chair is positioned just across from the small room’s bed, Aidan and her partner standing beside it, between where Johnny sits and the old mattress. Johnny sits casual, strewn with his legs wide open, at the perfect vantage point to stare dead on at Aidan and what-his-face. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just that annoying persistent nagging fuckin’ thought,” she grumbles, tapping the back of her head, she’d give anything to rip that fuckin’ chip out right now.

“We don’t have to if you’re-“

“No, no, uh, if you’re still up for it, I really really want this.” It’s so sweet of him to offer to stop and she recognizes that but dear lord that kindness is not what she wants right now. She needs someone to fuck her brains out, so Johnny will leave with them. 

“You’d probably be getting laid more if you didn’t act like a nutjob, you know that?” Johnny cuts in, that too pretty cocky smirk across his face. And he probably heard that too, fuck. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” the stranger says, pulling his shirt off over his head, Aidan’s eyes following down the line of hair that vanishes into his jeans. She kicks off her boots and starts unbuttoning her jeans, waiting for him to get the message. As nice as his chest is, she needs his dick, like yesterday. In her mouth, her cunt, anywhere, she just fucking needs it. 

“I’d be puking if I could,” Johnny taunts again, but he’s laughing dark and deeply, no hint of disgust, “really had to wind up in a cock whore’s head, didn’t I?” 

He could always leave, she nearly tells him so, but stops herself. Knowing it’d confuse and or frighten her hookup. Instead, she kicks off her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her panties as the stranger starts to undo his own jeans. Her thighs are clenching and she’s already slick. 

“My entire existence is in your head, so no, I can’t help but see your little show. So, if I’m stuck watching it, I might as well have some fun with it too.” 

He wants to see a fucking show? She can give him a goddamn show.  

Stranger drops his jeans, kicking out of them along with his shoes. And Aidan doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knees in front of him, she’s practically drooling as she pulls down his boxers, hearing him curse above her. He’s already hard, leaking pre-cum, and hot in her grasp. She licks up the length the next moment, dragging the silver ball piercing in her tongue along it, wetting the underside with drool. 

“Oh fuck…” 

“Fuck.” 

Johnny’s and the stranger’s curses mingle, she tries not to worry about what the forgotten rockerboy is thinking, why he’d curse like she’s drooling on his dick and not a rando’s. Whatever he’s going through is his own fucking problem, he’s the one who wanted to treat her like his own personal porno flick. She teases her tongue across the head of his cock, licking along every curve of it, then lapping where pre-cum drips out. Aidan gives a moan when she tastes it, trying to convince her bedmate it’s the best thing she’s ever had. And while it’s more a faint bitterness, the mere fact she’s tasting cock makes her insides clench. 

She looks up with big gray eyes, her pick of the night has his eyes closed, biting his lip at the feeling of her on his dick. And then she takes him down her throat, gagging softly at the resistance there as she pushes her head down further. Determination, she takes him until her nose is flushed to his hips. Her jaw aches at the stretch but she ignore it in favor of swallowing around his dick, letting the muscles squeeze around him. It’s hot and heavy in her mouth, twitching in and leaking in her throat. Aidan holds still for a moment, just swallowing and moving her tongue around him, imagining how the length of him  will fit inside of her cunt. 

Then the ache is a bit too much, the need to breath a bit too strong, and he’s murmuring curses as she pulls off of him completely. She keeps her mouth open wide, panting and showing off the way saliva still connects her mouth to his cock. 

Johnny curses and she sees him in the chair from her peripheral, watching with heavy lidded eyes as she sucks cock. She spares a side glance at a shift of movement, silver arm glinting as it catches the light, she realizes he’s rubbing his own cock through his pants. There’s a noticeable tent forming, which may answer a previous question… Her face goes brighter red, but she pushes through, this isn’t about Johnny or at least it shouldn’t be. 

And she’s back on the stranger’s dick, sucking him off in earnest as she bobs her head up and down the length of him. Never quite as deep as the first swallow, but she moves as far down his cock as her new pace will allow. Occasionally feeling the head teasing the back of her throat. Fingers entangle with her hair as she reaches a hand to play with his balls, squeezing and massaging them, his groans have gotten louder, testicles drawn tight. He has to be close, she wants her reward for a job well done. 

“I’m gonna cum…fuck…” He warns and she pulls back for a second, gently clenching the base of her cock between her fingers to help stop him from shooting his load right that minute. 

“You want to cum on me or in my mouth?” She gives him his options and he whines, she expected to be the one tossed around and fucked raw, but it’s becoming more obvious she picked out a guy who’d rather be bossed around a bit. Even if it’s not what she was looking for, she’ll take it, happily. 

“Can’t fuckin’ think right now,” he groans, “just wanna cum, please.” 

“On your face and tits,” Johnny says, low and husky, making it clear he has no trouble making a choice. Though, judging by his cock still being tucked away in his leather pants, he’s not quite as cum-brained as her hookup. 

And after a moment of considering Johnny’s request, Aidan wraps her lips around the man’s dick and gives a hard suck, letting go of the pressure around him. He groans as he cums directly down her throat, hot heavy spurts of it on her tongue. She swallows every last drop, not letting any of it touch her face or chest. 

“Bitch.” 

She swallows the last bit, grinning at Johnny’s insult, as she strokes the stranger through the last of his after shocks. Aidan stands up, she’s still in her panties, now soaked through with slick. She turns to face the bed, her ass now to Johnny and her hookup, allowing them a view as she purposely bends over to peel her panties off. Allowing both men to see her slick aching cunt; panties in hand, she turns back to face them. And she tosses them at Johnny with a devious smirk, to the unnamed stranger, she threw them to empty chair. But her and the ghostly anarchist, within their own reality that exist merely due to a chip in her head, her panties landed in his lap. His hand grabbing the wet black silk and wrapping them around her fist. 

She’s not sure how it works, far from a techie in her knowledge, but she can see him interact with objects. From smoking cigarettes to leaning his weight against whatever he sees fit, after all if he couldn’t interact with anything in the physical world he’d phase through the chair, floor, and everything around them. But to everyone else it’s not seen, the objects just laying flat and useless. 

The stranger’s hand grasps her hip, in her personal space within the moment, having stroked his cock back to full erection. 

“Want me to return the favor?” He offers to eat her out and she’s surprised at the heat that rushes up her cheeks, despite just slobbering on his cock the question makes her blush. 

“Let him do it,” Johnny says with a drawn out groan, her panties still in his hand as he undoes his belt and pulls his cock out, “wanna see you get licked.” 

Would have though he’d have learned by now, she’s not interested in fulfilling his requests. 

“Fuckin’ really,” he curses out at the thought, realizing he won’t get what he wants from her and he can’t do anything about it. His voice is edged and sharp, a hint of anger. 

“Appreciate the thought, but I need you in me, bad. That okay?” 

“Sounds good, I got a condom in my jeans, give me a second.” He starts to rifle through his abandoned jeans and jacket, Aidan clenching her thighs as she waits, she’s finally about to get what she needs most. 

“He’s not gonna fuck you right.” 

She tries hard not to audibly groan at Johnny’s words or watch the slow drag of his hand over his cock. Then she notices the black fabric he presses against himself, using to jerk himself off, her panties. Aidan likely deserves that, but she’s more distressed over the way it makes her insides clench than worries of the fabric. Though given what he is, she’ll probably find them virtually untouched later. 

“I’m serious, Samurai, he’s not gonna give you what your after. He’s too soft for you, can’t fuck you the way you need.” 

Shut up, Johnny, she rolls her eyes letting the sentiment ring out in both of their minds. 

“Got it,” her date, if you can call it that, returns with condom in hand, she takes it from his hand. 

“Lay back on the bed, I’ll take care of everything,” she tells him. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and god if she wasn’t so desperate the words could have dried her up quicker than the Sahara. Even when she wants control, that is not a nickname she cares for. Johnny laughs when she wrinkles her nose. 

“Told you so, ma’am.” 

“Don’t call me that,” she says to both to her hookups earnest slip up and Johnny’s condescension. 

“Sorry,” her hookup offers as moves to straddle him, her back to his view. 

“It’s okay, we’re strangers, don’t know everything about each other.” Her voice is a little kinder as she rolls the condom down his length, listening to the little inhales of air as he feels her touch. 

“Hmmm, wouldn’t be nicer with someone who does, someone who knows it all, someone in your head.” Johnny has moved, zipped, to stand at the foot of the bed. So, he can watch her more clearly she assumes. His cock and her panties are still in his hand. 

She ignores him, instead moving to hover over the stranger’s cock, letting the head just tease her slit open. Aidan whimpers and whines, unable to help it at the feeling of being stretched open as her weight comes down slowly onto his dick. Inch after inch sliding into her, pressing at her deepest parts. Despite some kinks misaligning, he fits nicely inside of her, helping scratch the itch. 

“A nice dick don’t mean anything if they don’t know how to use it,” Johnny taunts again, his gaze is hot on her skin, “I know everything you’ve been wanting, everything that you dream of that gets you going and makes you whimper, and I know for a fact this guy isn’t gonna give it to you.” 

‘Fuck off’ she mouths the words, despite knowing he can just hear her think them, she starts to bounce herself on the stranger’s cock, chasing her pleasure as she fucks herself on him. But she doesn’t miss how Johnny starts to stroke himself faster, nearly matching the pace she’s set for herself. 

“Might as well be ridin’ a toy. 

“Fuck… you feel so good,” the man beneath her groans just as Johnny starts to mock his prowess. 

“Good? That’s all he’s got is good?” 

“Fuck…” 

Aidan closes her eyes, trying to shut out the image of Johnny if nothing else, while both men’s voices ring out, audible even over her own whines of pleasure, she tries to focus on how good it feels to finally be full. Bouncing her ass harder as she rides the stranger’s cock, hoping somehow the smack of flesh against flesh, the creak of a bed could drown them both out. 

“Bet your tight, a wet little vice wrapped around his cock.” 

“Fuck…faster please…” 

“He’s probably already close, feeling the way you stretch around him, watching the desperate little way you fuck yourself on his dick.” 

“Hnnnn, fuck..” 

The two men’s voice go back and forth, a mess in her head, an overwhelming mess where Johnny’s words edge her further but the noises of her hookup stir up guilt, how could she get off to him being shamed? How could she get off on Johnny’s taunts and teasing, why does every word he say stoke a fire deeper inside of her, make her wetter, and push her closer to edge. While the man she’s actually fucking only seems to set her back on that journey.

Johnny isn’t real. She tries to tell herself, not physically, he only exists to her. Aidan should focus on what real and here and beneath her, but everything draws her back to the phantom in her head.  

Despite how close she is, she can’t cross the precipice, a wall built up in her core that won’t let her cum. That tension in her stomach refuses to snap, refuses to allow her the pleasure, the rush of endorphins, she’s been so desperate for. She fucks herself up and down as hard as she can, the smack of skin hitting skin echoing, and she’s sure she’ll bruise herself in her desperation. Tears of sheer frustration build in her eyes, why can she just fucking cum?

A hand cups her face, flesh and warm, vaguely slick with sweat or precum, she doesn’t know. But Aidan opens her eyes, looking straight up at Johnny. His dark brown eyes look down at her, dark hair falling into his face. 

“Take out your hearing aids for me?” For once his voice comes with a little upward inflection, insinuating a question and not a demand. 

“Huh?” 

“I want to be the only thing you hear right now.” 

And this time she listens, throwing one quick look over her should at her hookup, his eyes closed and head tossed back in the pillows, lost in the feeling of her around him; Aidan gently pulls out her hearing aids and the world goes quiet. No more sounds from him, not even the faint whirr of the fluorescent lights, or the slap of flesh. 

“Good girl,” Johnny says, his voice ringing out as clear as ever, for it comes from her own brain. The praise makes her clench and whimper, the kind of attention and names she likes best. He leans his forehead to hers, his hair tickling her face. 

He’s not real, but he feels real. She feels his skin, hears his voice, can smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. And she feels metal fingers, cool as they pushing against her slick cunt, finding her swollen clit with ease. She whines, as he rubs her, stroking friction against her nerves. 

“So fucking wet, you’ve wanted my hands on your for a while, haven’t you?” He teases, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“Yes,” she lets him hear it in voice and thought. 

“He may be inside you, but I’m the one who’s gonna make you cum, you got that?” 

“Yes, yes, fuck, please,” she whimpers, fucking herself and grinding against Johnny’s fingers. Every bounce and rub of his fingers pushes her closer to the edge. 

“Who’s gonna make you cum?” 

You, Johnny. She thinks but doesn’t dare say it, for fear of the man beneath her hearing, even in the throes of pleasure, she needs to be rational, Johnny isn’t real and if she starts screaming the name of a ghost while she cums… 

“Say it, out loud,.” His fingers slow their movement, nearly stopping their motion altogether, his threat clear and she fucking needs this. 

“Johnny!” Another hard rub before she’s finished the first syllable and his name becomes a scream, the tension snaps, the bubble of pleasure pops, and she’s overwhelmed by her pure euphoria. Toes curled and squirming she finally finds her release, cumming around the man inside of her, mind going blank for a moment.

Then the fog in her brain starts to lift, aftershocks coming and going, she can feel the condom bloated with cum inside of her…. Johnny is laughing, chuckling a rich and warm sound, and oh god she said his name. 

Aidan puts her hearing aids back in, clenched in her sweaty fist this entire time, trying to do so quick enough that it isn’t noticed and she can catch anything he may say. 

“…ohnny?” 

She catches the very end of it and oh no, oh no. Johnny’s still laughing. 

“Hmm, didn’t quite catch that, something wrong?” She tries to act nonchalant, like she just missed it, as she pulls herself off his cock. The emptiness makes her whine, but she may need to detach herself from this situation as soon as possible. 

“Who’s Johnny?” He asks again as she turns to face him on the bed, the stranger’s eyebrow raised. He doesn’t seem mad, just genuinely confused. 

“Yeah, who’s Johnny?” The old rockerboy says, smirking and how he can look so cocky with his dick still hard and out, she has no idea. Why is she even thinking about his dick, she catches herself, that’s oh lord. 

“Uhhh, why do you ask, who said anything about a Johnny?” 

“You did, loudly, while you came.” 

“Uhhhh….” 

“He got you there.” 

“Look,” the guy says, smiling kindly, “like, if you’re hung up on some other dude, it’s cool, like you said, we’re strangers. But, uh, if you’re thinking that much about this Johnny guy, you should probably just like talk to him about it.” 

“I’m not hung up on, Johnny, I assure you.” 

“Hmmm, debateable,” Johnny taunts and she’s gonna rip this fucking chip out of her brain if it kills her. 

“Say what you want, but I clearly wasn’t the guy on your mind tonight.” 

“Hard to compete with the guy who’s in her mind.” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess, sorry…” 

“No worries,” he says and she’s continuously thankful he can’t hear Johnny’s snide ass remarks, “I’m gonna grab a shower then head out, rooms already paid for if you wanna chill here.” 

And her one night stand gives her a friendly tap on the shoulder, like they’re bros and his dick wasn’t just inside of her, then heads to the motel bathroom. Aidan collapses on the bed, face flushed and struggling to accept the mess of a night. 

Then a weight settles over her, Johnny suddenly straddling her sternum, knees on either side and pressing into the bed before he sits his weight fully on her. His cock is still hard and leaking, has been the entire time, now smearing precum hot into her skin. 

‘The fuck are you doing?’ she mouths, glaring up at him. 

“What no love for the guy you’re so hung up on?” 

The shower starts up in the background, which should block out the sound of her talking to the ghost currently stroking his dick over her tits. The head flushed red and his pace quickening, he’s been shifting pace back and forth this entire time, no doubt he’s close to bursting. 

“I fuckin’ hate you, you know that?” 

“I know for a fact you don’t,” he groans beneath his breath, as his cock twitches in his hand, “besides, told you where I wanted to cum.” 

“Y-Ahh!” 

He curses beneath his breath and she yelps as it hits her, cum splattering across her chest and face. It certainly feels real, hot and thick across her breasts and chin, salty when her tongue swipes away a drop that hit her lip. But no one else but her and him would ever be able to even see it…  

Images of being able to walk around Night City filled and covered in his cum, with no one else even knowing flicker across her mind. 

“You’re not even pretending to hate me anymore, are you?”  He’s grinning wickedly, face flushed beneath the dark scruff of his beard, long hair sticking to his forehead. And she can’t find in her to disagree. 

[devinescribe]

[Ludus]

Niragi Suguru × Reader

So... here we go!!! I'm so exciteddd!! Because Y/N does get to slap him this time-

Warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse/trauma. I think that's about it.

Eros, sexual or erotic love. Can be the love you share with a partner. Lust.

Philia, platonic love. The love you share with friends.

Storge, natural love. The love you share with your family.

Philautia, love of self.

Pragma, long standing love. The love of a married couple.

Agápe, unconditional or Devine love.

Ludus, childish or playful love/flirting.

You were the cupid of Ludus. Anytime a young person needed your help in finding a love that was playful, you helped. The person could be young, or just young at heart. Whatever it was, you helped fulfil their love lives.

"(Y/N)! Someone's saying something about love next to candy, it might be a job for you!" You heard Stroge's voice call for you. Your eyes lit up. You hadn't had a job in so long. You rushed over, holding the edges of your pink dress so you didn't trip over the wisps of clouds.

The clouds in front of all of you transformed into a screen. There was a boy with dark raven colored hair, glasses, and dark eyes. Blood covered his hands and face, as well as a few bruises. "Oh my! Why, this is new..." Philia exclaimed. ''This is probably... the w-weirdest thing I've done... but I r-really wish she loved me," you heard him say. "He's sad! I wanna go, please? I haven't had one in 2,000 years, pleaseeee?" You begged, clasping your hands together. They all looked at each other before looking back. "Lady Aphrodite, what do you think?" Eros asked with a smile. The woman in question smiled gracefully, before nodding her head. "Yes! I promise I'll do my best!" You giggled, before touching the scene in the cloud. Warmth spread throughout your body, the heat being pleasant as if you were walking under the sun, and then, you felt cold. The sudden difference made you shiver. Where was this kid anyways?

"W-what the hell!" The boy exclaimed, backing away. His back hit the wall, and you pouted. "Come on now! You summoned me," you said. "Y-youre... you... I did what?" He stuttered. "You said you wished she loved you back and there's candy somewhere, so I got sent down here,'' you chirped, lifting the edges of your white dress, getting close to him. "I died didn't I? They finally killed me?" He said, slapping the side of his face. He began to pinch at his skin, wincing when he pinched at one of the bruises. "Am I dreaming? I've got to be. They knocked me out, I'm dreaming. No way. There's no way this is real," he muttered to himself. Then you grabbed his hands to stop his actions. The way your hands felt, warm and soft, couldn't have been something out of a dream. This was real. "Oh my god oh no... what did grandma always say? Don't mess with the spirits and devines. Don't do it. And what did I do? I messed with the devines, and here I am," he whispered. His eyes were wide, looking you up and down quickly. "I'm not gonna hurt you, you know. I'm here here to help!" You said, placing a hand on his cheek. You used your magic to heal up the bruises, cuts, and other things. He felt a slight warming sensation spread lightly. "There. All fixed up," you said, patting his head.

"So... let's start over. Hiya, my names (Y/N), cupid of Ludus!" You introduced. It was about an hour later, and he had finally come to terms with it. "Niragi Suguru... um, explain what the cupid thing is?" He questioned. You nodded. "There's seven of us in total! Each represents one of the words the Greeks used for love. Ludus is childish or playful love and flirting," you explained. You looked towards his clothes, a school uniform covered in dust, blood and dirt, and back down to your clothes, a long, white, flowy dress with loose sleeves. It was the kind that reminded you of your home in your past life.. You frowned, snapping your fingers. "Much better," you sighed. You had changed into a pink hoodie with a white pleated skirt. A pair of white platform boots with silver buckles completed the outfit. You had also cleaned up his clothes, and he looked shocked yet again. "Oh, and my lucky charm! Niragi, meet Squishy! He's my bun bun!" You giggled, waving around the white stuffed bunny. He cracked a smile, and pet it. "So... how old are you?" He asked, quickly adding, "If you don't mind me asking, of course."

You thought for a moment on how you should answer. "Well... I look around your age. I can make myself look whatever age I want, but technically speaking... I'm as old as Aphrodite. About a 500 years younger then her... so... about 5,000 years old? Does that answer it?" You responded. He nodded. "So... you're immortal? What like lead... to you being created?" He asked. You snuggled into him, being cold. He jumped at the contact. "It's cold... and if you wanna know, I'm gonna stay here," you said, holding onto him even him more. "O-okay..." he stuttered. "All of us cupids were mortals once. All of us died in ways that were... horrific for some, and also trauma. The gods took pitty or interest in us, and decided to save us," you explained, playing with the buttons on his uniform, unbuttoning and buttoning them back up.

"What a-are you doing?" He asked, grabbing your hands. You smiled, "Need to fidget with something." He was confused, but let you be. "Alright. Can you tell me a bit more about the cupids? Or just... yourself?" He questioned.

"Well there's 7 of us. Each of us has a lucky item, a color and food that can be used to summon us, we work with the gods and goddesses of love from every religion... hmmm, what else? Oh, my past is kinda dark. I was a princess! So, with that, my parents wanted me to be perfect. But, I couldn't, so punishments were required if I messed up. The man I was betrothed to was disgusting... Oh, and if you're wondering, my parents killed me. You know how royal families are. Crazy. So, now I'm here. Does that answer your question?" You responded. He blinked while nodding. "That was a lot. I'm sorry you went through that," he said, sympathy evident in his tone. You frowned, your hands playing with his hair. He leaned into your touch, a content sigh leaving his lips. "Yay! I made you happy! Right? Did I?" You questioned, sitting on his lap. He nodded, looking up at you. "You're cute. I'm not sure why you need my help getting a girl," you pouted, fingers weaving into his dark hair. He blushed slightly at your words. Cute? No one called him cute. He never assumed he was cute. Why did you think that?

"I didn't know I summoned you, so... yeah," he answered. "Well, now I'm here until she falls in love with you, with my help of course," you said. He cracked a smile, nodding. "I have to get home, so... let's go," he said, trying to push you off him softly. You shook your head, nuzzling into his chest. 'I thought she was supposed to help her fall in love with me, not make me fall for her!' He was having an internal panic at the moment. You finally got off of him, and floated besides him. "Let's go then."

"So no one else can see or hear you?" He questioned. You two were currently in his room. You nodded, before looking out the window into the street below. "We're so high up! Wow!" You exclaimed. He laughed, "Don't you live in the sky?" You pouted at his laughter. "And? I think it looks pretty outside right now," you said. It was raining outside, the droplets hitting the glass with a satisfying sound. "I prefer rain to sun. I don't get rain or cloudy days up there," you said, floating over to his bed. He was laying back, looking up at the ceiling, so you decided to float right above him. "So, what's this girl's name?" You asked. He blushed. "Asami Anzu," he responded. "Pretty! I bet she's pretty too! Is she pretty? Tell me about her," you rambled, giggling in excitement. He had never had anyone to talk to about anything, and here you were. So, of course he spent the next few hours talking to you about her.

"Aww! I wish someone would talk about me like that!" You said. He was so obviously in love with this girl, and it made your heart melt. He was so pure with his feelings. "Other guys that I've helped usually only want the girl to be childish so they can take care of her. I'm so glad you have genuine affection towards her," you said, sitting on the edge of his bed. He blushed, looking away. "What? Is there something wrong?" You questioned. "U-um, your s-ski- your skirt," he stuttered. You were confused, looking down, seeing it had risen up, and you laughed, smoothing it down. "You're silly. It's just skin," you said, crawling up to him. "Well I- I just... I assumed it was... improper for me to see that," he said. "Oh, you wouldn't survive a day up there... you would constantly be apologizing," you giggled, patting his head. You could feel him relax, and smiled. "You remind me of a dog! You like head pats, and are easily excited," you teased. "A-am not!" He defended, grabbing your hands. You pushed against him, trying to get your hands away. You laughed as he pushed back. It turned into both of you trying to push each other over. The once quiet room was filled with laughter and random bouts of banter.

You finally pushed him over, pining his hands above him. "I win~!" You bragged with a smile. He laughed, letting you celebrate your small victory. You looked down at him. "Is this what Eros talked about?" You questioned out loud to yourself. You weren't completely innocent, and would use minor curse words, or understood certain things, but never really understood it. You knew what it was, it just didn't interest you, or you didn't care about it. "What did she talk about?" He questioned. You stayed the same, looking down at him, keeping his hands in yours. "Well... I think you look pretty where you are," you stated confused. He blushed at your words, finally taking notice of the not - so - innocent position you were in. "You mean like... under you?" He questioned, his wrists squirming to get away from your grip. You let him go, nodding. "That's um... that's nice," he said, looking away. Although you didn't understand his reaction, you blushed at how he phrased it. "See! You're blushing too!" He said. You wanted to tease him? He'd find something to tease you back.

"Suguru, why is there a cupid in your room?"

You turned slowly to the door, noticing an elderly woman standing at the door frame. He stuttered, sitting up. "And moreover, why were you to like... that," she said, gesturing to the two of you.

"He summoned me."

"He did what?!"

"I-i didn't do it on purpose! It was an accident I swear!"

"It was an accident. But I'm stuck here now."

The woman sighed. Then it hit you. "Wait, how can you see me?!" You shouted, floating behind Niragi and grabbing his shoulders. You hid behind him, peeking out slightly. ''I've been around for a while. And I've dealt with cupids before. Say, how's Pragma?" The lady questioned. Your eyes lit up. "You know Pragma?" You questioned. She nodded. "She's doing well," you answered. The lady stayed talking with both of you for a bit longer, before saying she was off.

"Who was that?" You asked. You hadn't asked her who she was, just enjoyed her stories. "My grandmother... I forgot she was going to come over and drop something off while mom was at work, " he answered. You hummed, floating around his room. You heard his bed shift, and the clicking of buttons. "What's that?" You asked, pointing at what he was holding in his hands. "It's a game system. Haven't you... oh. Sky, right," he responded. You sat besides him, watching him expertly click away at the buttons. "You're so good at that!" You complimented after he was done with the level. "Do you want to learn how?"

"Ah! Nonono!" You giggled, seeing as Niragi was passing you. He was still better than you, but you had learned a bit. "Ah, shit!" He cursed, clicking harder at buttons. Another thing you'd noticed about him was when he got  mad at the game, he'd curse a lot. Your character passed the finish line, finishing in first. "Yay! I finally beat you!" You cheered, jumping up and down. "I let you win anyways. I didn't want you to be sad," he joked. "Noooo, I beat you fair and square~!" You chirped, sitting back down. "Did I make you happy again?" "Yeah. You did, (Y/N). You did."

Over the course of the next few weeks, you helped him talk to the girl. Your magic was there to get her interested, and let her fall in love on her own. Not to make her fall in love. Of course, Niragi asked about it.

"Ok, listen here! You need to man up and go talk to her! I did my thing, worked my magic, now all you have to do is talk to her!" You repremanded. "Can't you just make her fall in love with your magic, I don't want to embarrass myself," he muttered. You shook your head. "No! If I do, it can become obsessive and I- I can't let that happen again..." you whispered. "Again?''

"Forget I said that! Go talk to her!"

Usually you floated around, watching her to see her interests and watching over Niragi, making sure to heal him after he mysteriously got hurt. He would never tell you how, and it made you mad, seeing it was the same excuse every time. "I tripped down the stairs, I'm fine," he said. "Mhm. I know your eyesight is bad, but not that bad. You can't expect me to believe all your bullshit can you?" You asked, wiping away the blood. His eyes widened, staring in shock. "What?" You questioned. "You just... you cursed. That's the first time I've heard you swear," he said. You smiled sheepishly. It was a learned behavior from him, hearing him swear at his games, or under his breath. "I-is it ok if I do?" You asked, suddenly worried you'd made him mad. He nodded, "Of course it's ok. I mean, I do it, it would be kinda rude of me to say you can't."

One day, while floating around, listening to the girl, you heard her say something about Niragi. "I mean, don't you think it's weird that he's always by himself? If no one ever talks to him, what's wrong with him?" She said. Her friends nodded. "And next, Sheji told me that all he does is stand as a target when they push him around. Who wants a guy that can't even defend himself?" She added. You huffed. How could she sound like an angel while acting like a devil? This wasn't fair to Niragi, she didn't even know him that well. You floated around her, watching to see if anything would happen. Nothing, as expected. Well, until you touched her. You knew her friends couldn't see you, but now she could. "You're kind of a bitch, you know. You're going to be one of the girls that regrets not dating him when he's older. Did you know Niragi is super smart? Like, top of his class smart. You should get to know people before going off what you think because honestly it's a shitty thing to do, and it doesn't make you pretty at all. I can't believe a guy as cute as him likes you," you spat, defending him. It didn't even cross your mind that calling him cute might be wrong, because in your eyes, it wasn't. Her eyes widened as she stared at you. You were floating, your legs crossed in midair as you held on to your bunny stuffie. "Y-youre floating," she stuttered. You smirked as her friends stared at her like she was crazy. No one else could see you. "Yeah, and? Stop acting so dumb," you insulted. Of course, you wanted Niragi to end up with the girl he liked, but she was too rude. "Anzu, what are you talking about?" One of her friends questioned. "Can't you see her? She's floating, right there!" She exclaimed. You got closer, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "Play nice Anzu. I'm always around to protect those I love," you said, smiling, before skipping away. You heard her talking rapidly about you to her friends, but it was no use because they couldn't see you.

"(Y/N), what happened with Anzu-San? Why did you say those things to her? I thought no one else could see you?" He questioned. "Well first, she's a bitch, and was being rude and talking about you. I said those things cause it was only fair. And It's my special item's magic. I told you Bun-Bun was necessary," you explained, holding onto Niragi's sleeve. He sighed, "Well, now you're stuck with me for a while aren't you?" "Yep. Until you find another person you love that will love you back," you stated. He nodded, not really being as hurt as he thought he would be. In fact, he was relieved. You sensed this, and smiled brightly towards him. "Before you ask, yes, this made me happy. Thank you for helping me, and making sure I'm happy (Y/N)."

That was basically how you got stuck on Earth with him for the next 9 years. He had never found anyone he liked, so you stayed.

"Do you have to work late every day?" You whined. He thought you looked like a kicked puppy all sad and mopey that he had to leave. "I'm sorry?" He questioned, grabbing his keys. "Can I go with you then?" You asked. He sighed, "Only if you promise to not get bored and start bothering me." You nodded excitedly, following him out.

His office was rather messy, not like his room. "Why is your office messy and your room isn't?" You questioned. "I spend countless hours in my office, and like...3-5 hours in my room?" He responded, signing into his computers, looking through a folder on his desk. You pouted, sitting in the corner. You did like the small space, however. You could curl up into a tiny ball, so you did, falling asleep rather quickly

"Niragi? Is it okay if I float around your office and stuff?" You asked a while later after you woke up, being a bit bored. "I told you like... forever ago that you can call me by my first name. You're stuck with me for a while," he said. You shook your head. "It's just... then I would... nevermind," you answered. He chuckled, watching you float around, picking up papers. "You don't have to clean my office for me, you know?" He stated. You nodded, still picking things up. "I'm aware. But, it's for me, not you. If your office is clean, then I don't have to deal with mess when I come with you," you said. "Ok, that's an insult," he joked. He stood up from his chair, walking to one of his shelves, pulling another file down. "It's what I like to call organized chaos. My files may not be in alphabetical order, but I do know where each one is. For example, the left shelf on that wall, second row, 3 files down is the file for a client's idea. The one next to it has to do with the business side of things of that same client," he said, pointing to the shelves while reading through another one. You floated over, going exactly where he said. He was right. "Wowww! You're so smart!" You giggled, putting the folders back exactly as they were. "I'm well aware sweetheart," he sighed.

He walked back to his desk, watching as you floated towards him. Your face was right in front of his, smiling. He really loved that. You'd been with him for the past nine years, of course he'd grown attached to you. There was never anyone he found as attractive as you, but he'd never said anything. One time, he had asked, and you told him that cupids weren't allowed to fall in love, or else they'd die a devine death. So, as selfish as it might have been, he told himself he'd never fall in love, and that he'd keep you with him. You never seemed to mind, seeing as you hadn't had a job in years before him. A small part of you had also grown attached to him. You didn't want to admit it either, but the feelings you got around him were different than the feelings you felt around the other cupids.

You two were broken from your staring contest by the sounds of fireworks outside the window. He was confused, going over to the window, raising the blind. "It's nighttime already? Niragi, is there a celebration today I didn't remember?" You asked holding onto his arm. "No... not that I know of. It was probably some idio-" he started, before the lights turned off. You shrieked, letting go of him, seeing as it was completely dark. Not even the lights from the city of Tokyo shined in through the window.

"Niragi? Where are you? I can't see a damn thing! Niragi?" You called out, your hands groping for something in the dark. "Niragi? Hey, this isn't funny! Niragi! Suguru, please answer I don't like the dark!" You cried, desperate to find him, even if it meant using his first name. Gods how you hated the dark. It reminded you of your past. Having to be locked up in the darkest part of the dungeons, no light as random noises echoed through the halls. The rats and bugs crawling on you. You hated it so much. "Suguru! W-where are you!" You called out once more. You heard the door open, and a light flash through.

"Hey, sorry, I left to go find a flashlight. I didn't see anyone in the building though. Whole city is blacked out though," he said. You rushed over to him, hugging him tightly. "D-dont leave me alone in the dark again! You stupid jerk!" You whimpered against him, your hand gripping onto his shirt tightly. He cursed himself, remembering you didn't like the dark. A fitting fear, considering what you were. "I'm sorry, it slipped my mind. Let's go see if we can find anyone, or any clues as to what's happening."

That turned into finding the beach. Of course, after multiple games, you were more than happy he was finally somewhere safe. After so much, you were happy he was ok.

You lay in his bed, waiting for him to come back. "I wonder... no one's ever... none of the cupids have tried falling in love... so... how do we know we can't do that?" You questioned out loud, holding the sleeves of his shirt. You liked wearing it, seeing as it had a pretty pattern. Most of the times you'd switch the color though. Instead, you'd always make the intersecting lines pink while the rest stayed black, or vice versa. That, or you'd make it black and red. It was fun.

"I'm back, and alive surprisingly," you heard a vouch snap you out of your thoughts. You sat up, tripping out of bed to say hello. "I'm so glad you're ok! I was worried you know," you said, checking him over for any wounds he might have recieved. There was none. "Diamonds game?" You questioned. He nodded, laying back on his bed. You crawled besides him, slapping the side of his face. "Ow! What the hell was that for!?" He yelled, looking at you like you just murdered his family. You smiled sweetly, "That was for what you said to that girl yesterday. We respect women you asshat." He rubbed his face, a red mark appearing where you hit him. He looked down, nodding. "That was a solid slap though," he whispered. "I'm not hugging you till you apologize to that girl," you said. He nodded, walking off. He didn't know why he listened to you. Frankly, he could do whatever he wanted to, but somehow the thought of you not holding him again mad him sick.

When he came back after a while, you smiled. "Good job!" You praised. He lay next to you, as you curled up besides him. "Hey... (Y/N)... have you ever wanted to date one of the people you've been helping?" He asked, looking away. You blushed, looking away. "Maybe... why?" You answered. "Because... isn't it dumb that the gods can date and fuck around with humans, but you can't?" He said. You thought for a second before nodding. "Then do you want to be the first to test out your mortality?" He questioned, turning to you. Your eyes widened with fear. This was something that you thought about, of course, but never had the guts to do. "B-but what if it's true? Then I die forever!" You exclaimed, hiding under the blankets.

"(Y/N), who in the heavens told you that?" A voice asked. You recognized that voice. It was the voice of Venus. You quickly took the blanket off your head, kneeling down to her on the bed. Niragi stared between the two of you, not sure what to do. You smiled at Venus quickly, before pushing him down besides you. "L-lady Venus. It's an honor to see you again," you said. "Silly girl. You don't have to bow to me. Now, back to what I was saying. Who told you ladies that?" She asked again, fixing her hair. "Z-zues did my lady," you answered. She tutted, "That Zues. Always messing with my cupids. It is allowed, but you have two options. Either you become a mortal being with him, or he become an immortal being with you. Your choice," she said, giving you a smile. You glanced over at Niragi. He still had these games to complete. You could have him forever. And you'd never have to worry about him finding someone and you having to leave. He leaned into you, whispering in your ear, "Do what makes you happy. Not me. You've always helped me, pick yourself for once."

It was so uncharacteristically sweet of him to say something like that. In the borderlands, at least. "Wanna have him forever and ever and ever!" You giggled childishly, throwing your arms around his neck. Venus laughed, "Oh my sweet child. I'll do so after you leave this place. My magic isn't working here, it was a struggle to see you. So live. Live for as long as you can," were her final words before leaving, rose petals left behind. You laughed, holding his face in your hands, your forehead resting on his.

"Did I make you happy?"

"You always do (Y/N), you always do."

Ok, that took a while. Especially when I wanted to get the Last Boss chapter done before Niragi's, but I finished this one first, so this one is getting published first. I was writing both at the same time, and this one just got done faster

And I forgot to this last night, I'm so sorry!

Tag list

@brainwashedkittenstuff

@celestiacq

Ok, we're good now

[alpacaparkaseok]

7 Secrets

OK! This is my first time EVER posting an imagine on Tumblr! So please love me and don’t hate it lol. I'm also not sure how many parts there will be to this, but you can expect probably at least three. Let me know what you like and don’t! Any ideas?

Summary: For the past three years, Beth has struggled and fought against the notion that she has a soulmate. It was only when she met six other girls who were in the same predicament that she finally decided that this was her life. The only real problem? Her soulmate has no idea that she even exists. Much less that soulmates are even a thing. Will she ever get to meet her soulmate, the ever popular and beloved Kim Namjoon of BTS? Does she even want to anymore?

GENRE: Soulmate!au BTS!

WARNINGS: none

Even now, as my feet lead me through the airport here in Seoul, I can’t quite believe that this is actually my life. Even now, three years later, the feeling of disbelief mingled with the thrill and fear of it all lingers.

To anyone here, I simply look like another tourist. Headphones in, not a care in the world except for keeping my backpack on my shoulders and taking one step at a time. I pass a group of girls loitering by the stairs, completely decked out in BTS merch. I smile at them, my action going unnoticed by my mask and hat low on my head. Am I a tourist or celebrity?

Neither. And yet, in some twisted way, both.

To my eternal horror and delight, six of my closest (and weirdest) friends await me at the baggage claim, welcome signs held up high.

All of them are from either here in South Korea or Japan, yet despite our differences we just click.

It’s something that I’m still not used to.

Their loud squeals can be heard bouncing off the walls of the airport the second I come into view, and I thank the heavens above for the mask and hat I’m wearing which shields my bright smile from the rest of the world. They would never let me hear the end of it if they knew just how excited I was to be back.

“You’re back!”

“Finally, you’ve kept us waiting long enough.”

“Wow, look at you. You look like a whole celebrity.”

“Since when did our little B grow up so much?”

I roll my eyes lovingly at them, unable to hold back as we all rush toward each other in a fit of excitement. A year was way too long.

“You’ve made it look like I’m coming back from military service or something.” I joke with my closest friends, laughing as Minsuh pokes my ribs in defense.

“It feels like it, too. You look like you’re coming out of a battle or something.”

I feign offense. “It’s called jet-lag, thank you very much. Wow, some people never change, do they?” I accept a hug from Aera, and only when I set my chin on her shoulder do I notice the two cameras trained on us.

Ah yes. That is one thing that I haven’t missed. Aera silently attaches a mic to my sweatshirt, clipping it on with a conspiratorial wink. She knows just how much I despise our ongoing documentary.

The cameramen are kind enough, shadowing us constantly in an attempt to compile enough content to someday show our soulmates. However I can’t help but feel like it’s a bit hopeless at times. I highly doubt our boys will ever watch the material, they seem busy enough. And we’re not that entertaining.

But who knows? The most famous band in the world tends to surprise me.

“Is it the balloons? It’s all the balloons, isn't’ it.” Kyung-Soon fiddles with the balloons in her hands, the mass floating above her in an attempt to block out any light from above. The sight pulls a giggle out of me, tired as I may be. I waddle over to her, one of the girls easing the backpack off of my shoulders and grunting at the weight.

I wrap her up in a hug, knowing just how much she tends to stress and over think. “The balloons look great. You know me, I just get embarrassed easily. But I love them.”

“I wonder how you would react if it was Namjoon holding the balloons instead of Soon-ah.” My head swivels to my best friend, glaring strongly. Himari only returns the look, her smirk growing. “You get embarrassed so easily, I’m just wondering what that would be like.”

The mention of my soulmate has my cheeks burning, and I offer up a silent prayer of gratitude for the mask I still have on.

The other girls take up the conversation, wondering aloud how I would react if it was my soulmate picking me up from the airport instead of his band member’s soulmates. Himari’s Japanese accent cuts clear through the rabble, making me feel right at home even as I secretly plan to embarrass her later on. Usually a well placed comment about j-hope’s latest concept photos will leave her reeling and red-faced.

The cameras edge closer, and I leap up grabbing my luggage before I can be embarrassed even more.

“Time to go!” I shout, ignoring the snickers from behind me. “Himari, since you’re so keen on helping me today would you mind bringing my backpack?”

“Yeah, got it.”

“Ha, just like you Beth. Way to avoid the conversation.” A less noticeable Japanese accent greets me, and I turn to see Ichika already by my side. I raise my eyebrows at the girl only a year my senior.

“Your Korean sounds great, Ichika!” She smiles at me, her delicate features reminding me of a flower. Ichika looked like a piece of art, which I guess made sense considering that she had a soulmate who would probably recognize that same fact immediately upon meeting her. At least, I’ve heard that Taehyung has an eye for art. Or maybe he just has an artsy personality? I can’t remember. Probably both.

“Thanks,” she replies, giving me a firm high five. “I missed you!” I breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s always been so refreshing how honest Ichika is.

“Missed ya too,” I mumble out, suddenly disoriented in the humid air as we exit the airport. By now we’ve attracted our fair share of strange looks and even a few stragglers, who follow us solely because of our small camera crew.

Once outside, Aera gently herds me in the direction of a couple of black cars. I nod to the managers the BigHit sent us as they open the car door for us and help to put our things away. I can see one eyeing the mess of balloons that Kyung-Soon still clings to, calculating how on earth to fit seven girls and seventy balloons into two small cars. (Ok, maybe not seventy, but it feels like it)

I turn to help Kyung-Soon, but find Minsuh already there. The sweet girl, only six months older than me, is always quick to help. Typically her and Aera are inseparable, but I’m glad to see that Minsuh has slowly been pushing herself to mingle with the others. It’s another thing that makes sense, seeing that Minsuh’s boy is Jungkook and Aera’s is Jimin. As far as I know, those two are pretty close as well.

Minsuh smiles shyly at me, sidling over to give me a quick hug before going back to her work. The cameraman makes sure to catch the sweet action, never one to miss a candid moment.

Was that cute enough for you? I silently ask Bang Si Hyuk. There’s no doubt that these will be reviewed and only the kindest, funniest, and cutest moments will make the cut.

Pity for Namjoon, but that means I will probably only be featured in a little bit of the documentary. Oh well, if he’s curious he can come find me himself. I’m done waiting. Or caring.

“What are you pouting about?”

Himari’s voice drags me out of my stupor, and I shrug my shoulders in response. Her happy demeanor doesn’t falter as she looks into my eyes like she can read them. There’s an underlying seriousness that few get to know, but I’ve been lucky enough to see it several times.

“Just tired,” I bump her hip with mine before we get the ok to all pile into the car. She doesn’t press the matter, but I can count on her slipping it into the conversation again once we’re alone. Once the pressing matter of the cameras watching our every mood is lessened and I feel more comfortable.

Sliding in, I collide with another body that has already taken the far seat. Both Seohyun and I burst into laughter at the sudden collision, her eyes turning into crescent moons.

“Well hello to you too,” she manages to say between giggles. Himari slides in next to me, shaking her head at the both of us. A couple of cameras in the car automatically focus on us, but I pay them no mind.

“I like your sweatshirt,” I say, gesturing to the homage to her soulmate. Sure enough, Yoongi’s new mixtape “D2” cover is printed on her shirt. Funnily enough, out of all of us, Seohyun is one of the most showy when it comes to her soulmate. Constantly buying merch, listening to his music, and gushing about him.

I know she’ll make Yoongi very happy. If she ever gets to meet him.

If any of us ever get to meet them. Or if they’re ever informed of our existence. Not for the first time today, I curse Bang Si Hyuk again in my mind.

Next

[isingonly4myangel]

3, 6, 14, 17, 20, 22 :)

3. you're planning a horror movie marathon with your friends - which movies are you picking?

Ooh, either a run through the Conjuring universe, or a whole collection of Stephen King. Also on the table would be really classic horror, like made before the 1970s only.

6. answer for real life vs if you were a slasher movie character: the local movie theater is showing your favorite horror movie but you've heard that something really fucked up happened at the theater in the town over; somebody got stabbed mid screening, apparently- but people are arguing about whether that was actually real or just some sort of publicity stunt... - are you still going to watch your favorite movie?

Lmao yep, I'm still going in real life, and honestly I might go in a slasher movie too, cause might as well.

14. would you rather try to escape from michael myers chasing you with a knife, jason voorhees chasing you with his machete or freddy krueger tormeting you in your dreams and chasing you with his glove?

I'll take Michael Myers, because I stand a better chance of disarming him than with a machete or... ya know... inside my dreams

17. would you rather have chucky try and transfer his soul into your body or have the sawyer family try and put you on their dinner table?

The Sawyer family, on the same principle as the last one- better chance to get away!

20. there's a rip in the fabric of the universe and you find yourself warped into a horror movie. which one is it? pick a movie you actually find interesting enough to want to be a part of, maybe one you've already imagined yourself as a character in- not one you just think would be easiest to stay alive in. the rules to your current situation are unclear; you don't know whether this is one of those "if you die in here, you die in real life" scenarios or not- so why not just aim for some fun right now.

The Conjuring, hands down. (If we're allowed to include tv shows and not just movies, I'd also take AHS Coven, but my preference would be Penny Dreadful, I wanna live there anyway lol)

22. do you have any personal scary stories? something that happened to you or somebody close to you?

So the auditorium at my high school was haunted. Very haunted. Everyone has a story from it, we had the weirdest shit happen. Light orbs, cold spots, doors rattling on hinges, paintbrushes being moved up and down a ladder when the person painting is the only one there, picture frames thrown from a wall at the head of a girl 5 feet away, a persistent feeling of being watched, footsteps on the empty catwalk, and so much more. But one of my wildest stories happened during a rehearsal my senior year.

A cast of probably 20, 25 people are sitting in chairs around the piano onstage. Stage left wing is dressing rooms, stage right wing leads into our scene shop, where the big set pieces and construction equipment are stored. The shop door is huge, sliding, metal, standing open slightly because it's a pain to close fully. It's a music rehearsal, and because it's a difficult piece and the majority of the cast are not choir kids, we just can't get it totally right. But bless our music director, who's trying. All of a sudden, we hear the very loud and distinct sound of the circular saw revving up and running in the scene shop. Except that the lights are off, and there's no one in there. The circular saw is just inside the door, there would be no missing whoever was standing at it. Our music director sends a kid over, and we all watch him walk across the stage, up to the door, poke his head through, and say "hello?" The moment he approaches, within 4 feet of the saw, the sound stops. He announces that there's no one there, he sits back down, we begin rehearsal again. Not 10 minutes later, we hear the saw again. We repeat the above, with the kid looking a little pale the second time.

There's no other entrance or exit from the scene shop, save the stairs to the basement of the building (which we call Hell, for good reason but those are other stories). Those are metal, spiral stairs, and loud as fuck if anyone steps on them. We never heard that sound. The circular saw also needs 2 hands to operate, even after it's plugged in- one to take the safety off and the other to hold your material. No electric issue could have turned the saw on. Twice.

[celstese]

Torchwood Christmas secret santa 2020

for @laylainalaska

Hi this is your secret santa. Happy holidays Both fics are under the cut and on ao3. I haven't figured out how to embed pictures so the pics just on this post. I dont have access to a scanner right now. (Will update the picture when I do soon)There is a bit of swearing in the first fic but its not that much.

ao3 posts-  Ianto and Owen / Gwen and Tosh

It was early in the morning when the messy situation began. Since Lisa was discovered, I hadn’t been back at work. That was a terrible night. It happened so suddenly. I didn't feel happy when I realized what I had overlooked. I noticed we were running out of coffee beans. As soon as I could go, I went to go where I kept the rest of the walk in storage. This was the same floor where she inhabited for several months. It started sometime after I had joined after finding Myfanwy. That night I was exhausted. It was worth it in the end. While I didn't prefer being down there, I had to do something about the problem I had found. As I walked further towards the supply cupboard, the more uneasy I felt, almost like I knew something would go wrong. My fears were not out of the blue, but objectively I knew no one else could have done the same thing as I had. When I got there, the storage door was wide open and I could hear Owen Harper's loud voice. I sighed then spoke up loudly, enough that he could hear me from wherever he was inside. “Are you close to the coffee? We’re almost out upstairs.”. I didn’t wait long. It seemed he was close to where I was. Odd, the room seemed to be much bigger on the inside. That might have just my mind playing tricks on me. Though I wouldn't have been surprised if it was. “Can you repeat that? I don't know why not having galoshes would be a problem. ” Owen sounded confused. “No where almost out of coffee. Is there any in there still?” I replied louder than I had done previously. “I passed it on my way to the office supplies. I think that's all the coffee we have right now” Owens voice was apologetic. I could tell he meant it. It was then and there, for the first time in ages, that I felt scared. Not only for me but everyone on the team. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, I had become dependent on coffee. My team was no different. That didn't mean any would do. Drastic times call for drastic measures. After a short conversion, we decided to go upstairs and find Jack. Getting the bags of coffee to the car would require more than one person. It was a slow day so Owen could come and help for once. We walked together to the large elevator at the end of the hall and, after finding that it wasn't working, we sighed and took the stairs. I guess it was about time for a new elevator anyway. Nothing really lasts forever. When I got out of the stairwell, I was met by a relieved Jack who was happy to see me. “Ianto about the coffee…” “We have none in storage right now so the stuff upstairs is all we have at the moment. Me and Owen were going to go get more right now.” “I'd be happy to help if you asked, but that's fine.” I could tell from Jack's tone of voice that he would like to spend that time with me, but we'd never get anything done if he came with. He is a real trouble magnet on top of that. We walked inside the garage with the keys already in Owen's hands. I got in the driver's side on the right side while he got in the passenger side. The quickest route I knew could be confusing. If I was on the passenger side giving directions wouldn't help at all. It was hard to find a place and the directions were the oddest I have ever followed. As they drove out it was still raining as it had been when they entered in the morning. By the time they had taken a left turn towards a block of warehouses, the rain had vanished, to Owen’s surprise. He thought the weather man said something about the rain lasting until the next day. He shook his head and told himself he must have misremembered what week that was for. The car made a sudden stop parking at the side of the road. Ianto spoke saying “I know it might look weird, but this is really where I get all of the coffee. It's like the opposite of a Slitheen. It's the building on your side. Let's go.” While Ianto stepped out of the car ,Owen took a deep breath and opened the door quickly then closed it just as fast. His face was drawn to the massive eyesore in front of his face. The building that once held a clothing warehouse full of books was now filled with rows and rows of coffee. Owen didn't know what to think. He turned his head and said to Ianto “ You go to a building that's bright orange called Groovy Moods to get coffee that we drink everyday. Something about that sentence just sounds wrong.” “It's better than it sounds. They used to have a different name, but they were inherited by the old owner's hippy son. I miss the old building, but the stuff is still the same. My mouth would know the difference.” Owen Harper then said in response “So it's a rebranding. Lets just go in and get this all over and done with. I heard it was supposed to rain today.” The inside was clean as a whistle and the colors were more muted, though, the wall art wasn't. Owen couldn’t say he was surprised at the abstract art on the wall above displayed bags of various kinds of coffee. He followed Ianto to a window at the back of the store and found something unexpected, visible behind the glass. “Well shit.” I couldn't agree with Owen more. Some kind of face hugger was on the workers face and they were trying to tear it off. That was a poor bloke. “Did we bring anything in the car or did you grab something? I don’t think a gun will help us with that.” Owen was panicking and so was I. “ I always have medical supplies on me, and I also have some food. You?” I leafed through my pockets and groaned. “I grabbed the wrong jacket. This spray might make it worse.” “Why?” “It's novocaine in a can. I don't know what it will do to it. It could do nothing.” “It's worth a shot. At least the guy won't feel anything if something goes wrong.” Owen, with a medical tool, opened the door and I sprayed the face hugger. The weirdest thing happened. “I think I made it horny”. I was embarrassed. Instead of sucking the man's face, it was now humping my foot. Owen laughed while I sighed. “We have a carrying cage in the car right? Get it. I think we might have to retcon this guy when it's taken care of.”

Fic 2 It was a Friday when I finally had some time to myself. I had some great plans including going to this nice curry place and eating what I couldn't while I was at home since Rhys was allergic. My day didn't go as planned after I managed to get that one thing out of the way. As I was walking to my car, out of nowhere I got pulled into an alleyway. I almost kicked them, knocking them out before I saw who it was. It was Toshiko, but she was a mess. Concertedly, I watched as she panted.

“What happened?" I said plainly as she stood wobbling in front of me.

Her eyes wide, she spoke a few words before fainting onto me “Aliens smuggling cocaine into space.”

I had just enough time to catch my weight and Tosh by sheer will alone. A few seconds passed before I could catch my bearings.

My mouth gaped as I was shook by what she had just said. I guess I'm going to hold off on those plans for another day. This, I could feel, wouldn't be easy. She looked at Tosh's wrist and sighed. Maybe she would have a day out. Whatever had happened hadn't happened yet. On Toshiko's right wrist was a vortex manipulator. For all Gwen knew Tosh was going to then say and time if that one wasn't Jacks. It wasn't like he was unique in the cosmos. It was mass produced. From what she had gathered after Jack came back after a year in tandem with the radiation scare they were similar to company cars. While not totally unique, there are a limited amount.

Though for all I know I am already involved in what happened and will have to sit it out to keep out of sight. That might possibly be some good news. I haven't signed up for overtime, but I was due for a break as well. Whatever the case I had to get Tosh to wake up somehow. For all I knew it would come today and we needed to start walking now. So, out of my pocket I grabbed what I always kept on me and what I knew she couldn't stand.

“Peppermint, really Gwen?”

It had worked after all, to my delight.

“We are in an alleyway and I had it on me. Now, do we have to hide somewhere or was I involved in what got you here?”

“I have to stay out of sight, but we need to call Jack so I only knew one thing you did out of the next three days.”

“Well that's short, but what are you getting at?”

“Well what we need to do exactly is this.”

Tosh's game plan was not something I would do if I didn't have to. There were parts she had to repeat since to be perfectly honest was plain odd. I guess I could blame the rift for this.

So, here I was now, with Tosh in a bar in the middle of the day at the start of winter. There was barely anyone inside which was definitely not a good sign. We went to the restroom and waited for a few minutes. Then I heard that noise that had to be what Tosh had told me about earlier. So I kicked down the restroom door and chucked a can of mayo at a sabretooth tiger. While it layed there unconscious, Jack stared at me, dumbfounded for the first time since I had met him.

“Thanks Gwen but how did you time that so well? It's your day off you didn't mention going to a bar” He was scratching his head staring at the jar of mayo on the ground.

“It's kind of you from a few days laters fault. Tosh said she came back to perverse the timeline to ensure I did what I did. You gave Tosh your vortex manipulator 3 days away. I guess i'm going to have more time off than planned. This was the only thing you saw me doing with everyone else while the alien cocaine smugglers were dealt with. I'm having trouble saying their name. It's a mouthful.”

“Can you tell me something about them so I know what i'm dealing with?” Jack responded quickly.

“ She did say that one of the people who took them back to their homeworld used to be mayor Blaine. Tosh said she was cute.”

He started laughing for a second then the image of what I was describing finally got past his processing for how ridiculous it all sounded.

“Even for torchwood this sounds..”

“Insane I know. I'm the one who was dragged into an alley by a chip shop's trash cans by a future Tosh and had to wake her up. She seems fine, even after passing out. I don't think she got a concussion, but it's even more of a reason for me to stay out of this one. I wouldn't want to be home alone if that happened to me.“

“You do that Gwen, you do that.”

Tosh walked up right next to me and said, “We have five minutes until my past self walks by. We need to head out. Nice seeing you Jack.”

We finished saying our goodbyes and Tosh headed out first, initially going left while in the distance I heard a familiar voice talking to him. While I knew I could relax, I wouldn't be able to do everything I could.

“I haven asked yet, but are you okay with sleeping on my couch?”

“Gwen, I’ve slept in worse places before, it's fine.”

Tosh opened up the fridge while I was cleaning dishes. “Gwen, when's the last time you ate something that wasn't takeout? There's only milk in here and I think it's gone off.”

“Well, I guess we'll have to go get food. Rhys usually does it, but he’s at the funeral I was talking about before all of this. You didn't go to a grocery store did you?”

“No, so we can go anywhere.”

I didn't feel the need to change so we went out in both of our pajamas. The sight of her in my pajamas brought a smile to my face.

I hadn't gone here this time of night or this particular place, but Tosh seemed pretty familiar with it. There was some stuff I hadn't seen in person before, but it was pretty clean. I grabbed something called a dragon fruit and put it into the cart as well as some pasta and additional stuff to put on it. Can't forget the wine either. This kind of opportunity doesn’t happen as often for me anymore.

I don't know how, but we ended up at a rec center painting. It was a small place nearby with a blue façade. It felt nice actually, to my surprise. It's not the best representation of a pear, but at least I tried.

I looked at my watch and realized how much time had passed.

“This is the last day we have to stay out of this.” I didn't know how I felt about that just yet.

Tosh pulled down the newspaper and sat in silence for a bit. Then she simply said . “I'll miss this break, but it had to end sometime. It will be all okay.”

“I hope so.” I thought to myself. The last few days had been calm but I don't think I can relax much longer anyways.

[oswildin]

My Doctor {Part 2} ~ Dhawan!Doctor x Reader

~ For you 😘 @ateliefloresdaprimavera ~

Summary: You have a choice to make...

Warnings: None, some fluff

Part 1: https://oswildin.tumblr.com/post/611595725037551616/my-doctor-dhawandoctor-x-reader-featuring

It had been a year since you fell into the parallel universe. It didn’t feel that long ago that you were with her. In her TARDIS. Travelling the stars... But all that was in the past now. You knew she would’ve moved on, probably met someone else to travel with. Not that you were angry, or upset even. You just wanted her to be happy.

You’d finally got used to this Doctor, to his face, his personality... Of course you missed your universes Doctor... You grew with her, you’d known her for years, but it was time to start again. You began to start seeing it as an opportunity. You were able to relive it all over again. Meeting the Doctor, learning about him, travelling to new planets, meeting new people... He was right, it was like a sequel.

You had to admit, you were slowly beginning to fall for him. He was the same person as you Doctor of course, so it was inevitable. No matter what body, you would always feel the same for the alien. You couldn’t help but feel perhaps he liked you too. It was different with him.

He had Eleven’s mannerisms, Thirteen’s awkwardness and tangents, Ten’s darkness and occasionally Twelve’s grumpiness and sarcasm. It’s what made you love him.

You sat in the console room, up on one of the higher tiers as you read your favourite book. The Doctor had gone AWOL, and you couldn’t sleep knowing he had gone off on his own. You knew what he was like. Always getting into trouble. The TARDIS wouldn’t tell you anything as you sulked, deciding it was best to just wait for him to return.

Finally, the Doctor entered the TARDIS as he didn’t notice you above. You watched him as he pressed buttons and sighed to himself. You cleared your throat, getting his attention as he jumped slightly at the noise. He instantly backed away from the console, looking sheepish as you leaned over the railing, a brow raised.

“And where have you been?” You asked, placing your book down as you stood from your seat. You could see his brain working to come up with an answer.

“Oh you know! Just about!” He shrugged, awkwardly leaning on the console. “Got a signal, didn’t want to disturb you. Why aren’t you asleep?” He asked in return, giving you a curious glance as you slowly walked down the steps, giving him a suspicious glare.

“Because you ran off without me.” You folded your arms. “God knows what you get up to when I’m asleep. I dread to even think.” You told him, finally stepping down towards him as he pursed his lips.

“As I said. Didn’t want to disturb you.” He eyed the monitor, as you noticed. You lurched forwards, trying to get a look at it as he instantly flipped a switch, making whatever was on the screen disappear.

“What are you hiding from me?” You raised a brow. You knew him too well. He almost smiled at his own thought before he instantly made a ‘pfft’ sound and brushed his hair from his eyes.

“I’m not hiding anything.” He insisted, although not very convincingly. You hummed in thought.

“Did that convince you? Cause it didn’t convince me.” You told him flatly. “How many times have you snuck off whilst I’ve been asleep?” He looked like a deer in headlights as you asked.

“Oh... Erm...” He coughed awkwardly. “Not many. I don’t think.” He shrugged once more. “Do I need your permission now to leave my ship?” He playfully inquired as you gave him a look of ‘yes.’ “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ as he sighed, his posture becoming defeated. He flipped the switch back as the screen turned on once again. You narrowed your eyes, looking at it. “What’s all this?” You asked, pointing at all the random numbers and letters on the screen.

“I’ve...” He paused, looking nervous. “I’ve been trying to find your universe.” He admitted, as you felt your heart swell, but also deflate. Did he want to get rid of you?

“Why?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“Because I know how much you miss it.” He said softly. “You shouldn’t feel trapped here. There must be a way.” He mumbled to himself as he began to fiddle with buttons.

“Is that what you think?” You asked gently, voice quiet. He didn’t look at you as he continued to tinker with the controls. You reached out, grabbing his arm to get him to face you. “I don’t feel trapped.” You told him truthfully. “Maybe at first... I felt... Disorientated. Anxious. I mean... This isn’t my world.” You said sincerely as he gave you a sympathetic glance. “But... That changed.” You gave him a small smile. “Sure, I miss home. I miss my friends. But I’ve still got you, don’t I?” You raised a brow. He placed a small smile on his own lips. But you could tell he wasn’t convinced by your words. “Do you want me to go?” You asked, afraid of the answer.

His demeanour completely changed, as he furrowed his brows, looking confused at your question.

“Why would you ever think that?” He asked, sounding somewhat hurt by the thought. You shrugged shyly. “Of course, I don’t want you to go.” He admitted. “But if it’s what will make you happy... Then I’ll do it. I’d let you go.”

Your heart melted at his admission. You sighed, giving him a soft smile. He looked confused at your reaction. You reached out, pulling him down towards you for a hug as he instantly wrapped his arms around your body. You took in his scent as you smiled into his shoulder.

“I appreciate it.” You whispered. “But I want to stay.” You told him. “There’s no other place I’d rather be.” You could feel him tighten his grip around you ever so slightly at your words as you continued to hold him.

You opened your eyes, awakening from your slumber as you yawned. You could hear loud noises coming from down the hall as you rolled your eyes. Oh god, what was he doing now? You sighed, sleepily grabbing a jumper as you shoved it over your pj’s.

Heading down the hall, the noises got louder as you tried not to wince at the loud sounds. You should be used to waking up to his antics by now. But alas, it never did quite stick. You appeared at the top of the stairs, as you sleepily called down.

“Some people are trying to sleep you know!”

The lights quickly came up, as your eyes adjusted when you realised...

This wasn’t his TARDIS.

You felt a wave of familiarity fill you as you saw it was in fact your universes Doctor’s ship. You felt frozen as you looked down, seeing your Doctor... She removed her goggles as she stared up at you.

“Sorry! Did I wake you?” She asked casually, as your mouth hung open. She saw your expression. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost...” She commented as she rounded the console, looking up at you concerned.

“But...” You held your head. Was it all a dream? No. It was real. Definitely was real. It was too long to be a dream. Right? “You...” You muttered, pointing at her. You shook your head, quickly rushing down the steps, almost tripping over as you threw yourself at her, holding her tightly. She stood frozen as she wasn’t really a hugger. She awkwardly patted your back.

“Okay... Still not used to this.” She mumbled as you laughed lightly at her words. “What happened? Bad dream?” She asked as you pulled away, staring at her.

“Something like that.” You commented. “Not entirely bad. Just strange.” You told her as she nodded.

“Well! Now you’re awake... What did you want to do today?”

You jolted awake, trying to steady your breathing as you looked around the room. Okay. Surely that was a dream. You quickly got up, rushing towards the console room as you saw the Doctor stood by the controls. He looked up, smiling as you entered.

“You’re awake! Finally. God you humans can sleep.” He commented casually as you stared down at him in confusion. “So, what did you want to do today?!” He exclaimed, twirling round the console as you stared down at him. He noticed your quietness as he peered over, seeing you looking rather confused. “You ok?”

“Yeah... Yeah.” You forced out. “I just... I had the weirdest dream.” You told him as he raised a brow in curiosity. “I was back home... My universe... But it was like this never happened.” You gestured around you. “It felt like this was a dream.” You mumbled as you slowly descended down the steps. He looked at you concerned.

“Probably nothing.” He shrugged. “Happens to the best of us.” He glanced at you, before turning to the controls once more, his back facing you.

“It felt so real. But this feels real too.” You muttered to yourself. He froze at your words as he stayed facing away, not wanting you to see his worry. He couldn’t lose you.

“How about I prove to you this is real!” He exclaimed, a wide smile on his face. “What about a trip? To a planet! Meet some aliens!” He clapped his hands together. You nodded at his suggestion. “Better go change though.” He raised a brow at your pj’s. “Don’t want to be scaring the inhabitants.” He teased as you playfully whacked his arm, before turning on your heel to head back to your room.

A sudden haze came over you as you entered your bedroom. You tried to steady yourself, or call for the Doctor but you couldn’t find the energy. The next thing you knew, was you were falling to the floor, your head pounding.

You awoke, finding yourself in the Master’s TARDIS... You recognised it instantly. The red lighting, the cozy yet messy appearance of a living room... You felt anxiety fill you as you sat up from the floor, looking around.

“Did you like my little game?”

You froze at the voice, as you furrowed your brows, turning to face the Master. Your universes Master. He looked amused, as mischief was evident in his eyes.

“Or should I say our little game?” He raised a brow, as the Master from the parallel universe stepped out of the shadows, a smirk on her lips. You didn’t know what to do, or say. You quickly pushed yourself up, stepping away from the pair. Two Masters. This wasn’t going to end well.

“What are you talking about?” You questioned, voice quiet as you switch your gaze between the pair.

“I thought it was obvious.” She told you, pursing her lips.

“Remember humans are a bit slow.” He reminded her as you bit your lip nervously.

“Did you really think it was a coincidence you ended up in that alternate universe?” She laughed wickedly as you felt your heart rate increase. “All apart of our plan...”

“I will admit, it was hard to get over the face.” Your Master told you. “But she has the same great mind as I do. So it was quite easy to dismiss.” You stood confused as you stared at the two. You shook your head.

“No. There’s no way. This isn’t real.” You told them.

“Oh do shut up.” She hissed, scrunching her face. “God, Humans are so annoying.”

“Where’s the Doctor?” You asked; as they both raised a brow, looking amused.

“Which one?” They both asked you, as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“My Doctor.” You answered strongly, as they appeared to smirk.

“It’s all a bit fuzzy isn’t it?” Your Master stepped forwards, his dark presence leering over you. You couldn’t help but look at him with softer eyes, damn stupid feelings. “Poor little (Y/N)...”

“(Y/N)!”

You spun, round hearing a familiar voice, as you gasped, expecting to see him. Your Doctor. But he wasn’t there.

“(Y/N)!”

There was her voice. You felt tears building in your eyes as you looked at the two Masters. You noticed how they stayed silent, staring at you.

“Time to make a choice.” They finally spoke, both at the same time as you closed your eyes.

You gasped, catching your breath as you sat up, feeling arms around you, holding you steady.

“It’s ok! It’s ok, you’re safe now.” You recognised the voice as you leaned into their touch, holding onto them.

“Doctor...” You whispered, as you pulled back, looking into his eyes. You smiled in relief, seeing his features full of worry. “I choose you.” He looked confused at your words, but before he could say anything, you leant forwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips as he seemed taken back. He fumbled his hands around, before finally relaxing, settling into your touch as you finally pulled away. He looked surprised, and you could’ve sworn there was a slight blush to his cheeks.

“Right-“ He cleared his throat, nodding sharply. “Very... Very nice. Erm...” He coughed awkwardly as you smiled at him. “What was that for?” He asked, a brow raised.

“For being my Doctor.”

~

Taglist: @drapetxmaniia @dannighost @imagine-whatever @yourlocalspacebisexual @the-sweet-space-bi @blamerogertaylor @koschei-taylor @koschei-studies @lostshadow12 @hannahlilyyx @wonders-of-the-multiverse @ettorah @nikey-no-likey @imthedoctorlove @twentysomethingloser92 @sometimes-i-feel-like-falling @hellothedoctorisreal @tragic-and-tried @kind-sober-fullydressed @chiswicknoble @sherly-not-obsessed

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

Don’t you remember?

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place long after Bloodbound 3. In this scenario, MC was Turned only after giving birth to their daughter.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, now Kamilah is married and has a daughter who is about to get married as well. While preparing the wedding, they decide to remember Lysia’s childhood stories.

Warnings: just fluff.

Part 1 Part 3

Don’t you remember? - Part 2

January 8th, 2049

           They decided to have lunch at Annie’s favourite Italian restaurant. It was right around the corner, and Kamilah was definitely in the mood for some good wine. She asked for their best bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, watching as her wife smiled across the table. So many years ago, they sat at a different restaurant and shared their first bottle of wine. Ever since, Kamilah kept asking for the same type, even though it wasn’t her favourite. It had good memories attached to it.

           “Bring five glasses, please. And make it two bottles. We’re expecting more company.” Annie smiled at their confuse expressions. “I texted Adrian and Lily, they’re coming for lunch too.”

           “Aunt Lily is back already? The wedding is not until two weeks.” Lysia crossed her legs, a proud and perfect posture, just like Kamilah.

           Annie, on the other hand, looked like a child playing with the fork and the empty plate. “She’s your godmother, it’s her duty to help us organizing it. Annnnnnnnnd Lil loves planning parties. We stayed up all night putting together the perfect playlist.”

           “Should I be afraid?” Lysia sighed, already imagining what kind of songs they chose.

           “Nah, I promise we behaved.” She winked at her daughter, watching the waiter bring their wine almost at the same time Adrian and Lily walked in. “Perfect timing, you two.”

           “Lucky us for being just down the street. Hi, sweetie.” Adrian gave Lysia a tight hug, sitting right beside her, while Lily placed loud kisses on both girl’s cheeks before going to Annie’s side.

           Kamilah was the first to lift her glass, already used to her wife’s love for toasts.

           “To the best person ever born in this planet!” said Annie, followed by ‘cheers’ from the rest of the group.

           After a sip of wine, the Egyptian gently placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, I believe we promised your mother we would tell baby stories now.”

           “Yes, you did promise me that!!!”

           “Oooh yeah, let’s do it!! My favourite is when I accidentally forgot a chocolate bar on the table, and she ate it all.” Lily chuckled, ignoring the dangerous glare from Kamilah. “Girl, you were a happy kid that day. But I almost got killed because of it.”

           “There was also that time we took you to Disney, and none of these two party pooper over here wanted to let you ride the roller coaster.” Annie pointed at her wife and Adrian with her half empty glass. “Not until you cried so much, they decided to accompany you there. Remember that?”

           “Yes, I would give anything to see it again. Everybody laughing, breathless, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, heart raced, and you two looked like nothing had happened.” Lysia shook her head in disbelief.

           Kamilah smiled proudly. “It takes way more than a kid’s playground to put me breathless.”

           “Yeah. It takes me.” Annie bit her lip, quickly finding her wife’s leg under the table. That only made Lysia sigh at her shameless mother.

“What about you, Uncle Adrian? Do you have a favourite memory?”

           “I do.” His smile was soft as he took one of the girl’s hands. “You were just three years old. The first time you said my name. Don’t you remember, Annie? Tell us.”

           “Hum, I think I do… It was during the spring…”

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

May 22nd, 2023

           Kamilah was late. Not a surprise there.

           Annie got so used to it. Every time they had a night out planned, a sudden phone call or an urgent email would pop up and delay things. That’s why she started to set their dates a couple hours earlier than usual. Now, her wife was an hour late, but it wasn’t even 6pm yet, so there was still plenty of time to finish combing her hair while mumbling alone. “I swear, one of these days I’ll call her assistant and book a fake business meeting. This way, she will be on time.”

           “You actually did it.” Kamilah pinched her nose, interrupting the story.

           “Really, mom?”

           “Yeah. I booked a meeting under the name of Jaden Marshall. You should’ve seen her face when she realized what happened … Anyway, focus.”

           “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa” screamed Lysia, giggling as trying to run towards the door. Annie already knew what that meant.

           “Hi, Adrian!”

           “Evening, Ann! And hi to you, baby.” He took the girl into his arms and lifted her above his head. Those baby laughs filled the house, echoing through the hallway from where Annie appeared. “Am I late?”

           “No, you’re early. Kamilah is still on the phone.”

           Lysia, who now was well nested on her godfather’s arms, looked back at her mother with those huge dark eyes. “Mommy late.”

           “I know, sweetie. Your mother is always late.” Annie kissed the tip of her nose. “You better behave, okay? And Adrian, please, don’t spoil my baby too much. Between you doing everything she wants and Kamilah wanting her to be totally independent, I’ll go crazy over here.”

           “I won’t make such a promise.” His gaze lingered on Lysia’s face for a moment as slowly walking to sit on the couch. “How can I say no to those eyes?”

           “Ask Kamilah, she does that all the time. Last week, I caught her watching Lysia fall when she was trying to get on top of the bed, and refused to help because, and I quote, ‘mortals need to develop their skills from an early age’.”

           “Talking about me again? Save it for the date tonight, my love.” The Vampire Queen emerged from the stairs, a tone of irony on her voice. She had put an astonishing tight white dress. “Thank you for being here, Adrian.”

           “Not a problem. Take your time tonight. We’ll be fine.”

           Kamilah smiled fondly at them, gently leaning in to kiss her wife, but they were interrupted by Lysia’s voice. The girl had crawled out of Adrian’s lap to energetically point at her mothers.

           “Mommy Kami” she giggled, then shifted to point at Annie. “And silly mommy Anna”.

           “You taught her that, didn’t you?” the Brazilian narrowed her eyes to Kamilah.

           “I have no idea what you’re talking about. She added the ‘silly’ on her own.”

           “Lyshia” the girl pointed at herself while sticking her tongue out, not being able to pronounce her name correctly yet. Then, she turned around, running back to Adrian’s lap. Her small hands went to cup his face, putting their foreheads together. “Andi you, my baby. You are my baby Adian.”

           Kamilah arched her eyebrows, confused. “No, sweetie. You’re the baby. That’s how we call you.”

           But Adrian didn’t listen. He had tears on his eyes, arms holding the girl even closer. “You are the most precious thing in this world. How is Kamilah even able to say no to you?”

           “Easy. Look. Lysia, no.”  

           Annie shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. Let’s go. It’s time.”

           As they were leaving the apartment, even from the elevator, it was possible to hear Lysia giggling happily in there. That sound was so perfect, it would always make Annie’s heart melt inside her chest. She smiled when felt her wife’s arms involving her by the waist, bringing them closer to another kiss.

           “Darling… Do you think something is wrong with Adrian? He has been crying a lot lately.” Kamilah sighed, concerned.

           “No, you shouldn’t worry. He’s just healing.”

           “Healing?”

           “His heart. After those deep wounds, losing a wife and a child, Lysia is helping him heal. Sometimes, babies do that with us. It’s their superpower.”

           “I see…” Kamilah’s expression became serious for a moment. They were already in the parking lot, so she trapped her wife against the car’s door. “If that’s true… Why don’t we make another one of those?”

           Annie gasped. Cofed. Then laughed. “Not that fast, Mrs. Sayeed. If you want another, don’t look at me. Pushing one out was hard enough.”

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

January 8th, 2049

           “WAIT!” Lily held her hands high to stop Annie’s story. “Kamilah wanted another child? How come I never knew about it?”            

           “Because she changed her mind one month after that, when Lysia went inside her office and draw all over her papers. Besides…” her gaze lingered on Kamilah’s face for a moment, considering carefully what to say. “She wanted me to get pregnant again just to delay things. You were worried about me being Turned, weren’t you?”

           “I was just afraid you could regret it. What if a year later you wanted another baby? I needed to be sure you had considered all the alternatives.” The Egyptian leaned to hold her wife’s hands across the table. “I would never forgive myself for taking away your chances of experiencing what I couldn’t.”

           “You didn’t take away anything. I was sure. Still am.” She intertwined their fingers, both sharing a soft smile.

           Next to them, there was Lily trying to steal a picture with her cell phone. “Perfect. This will go to the slideshow for the wedding.”

           “Wait, what slideshow? Oh, for god’s sake, what are you two up to?” Lysia finished her wine in a gulp. “If I see a naked baby picture there…”

           “You won’t.” reassured Lily.

           “…or you will.” completed Annie, dramatically wiggling her eyebrows. “Sorry, kiddo. That’s the family you got.”

           The weirdest and most perfect family it could exist, in Lysia’s opinion.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Nine, “Another Day”

Clickable Links: 

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read Becky’s FULL dream here

- Read on Wattpad 

Music Inspo: Another Day by Paul McCartney (click to listen)

WARNINGS: Some Smut

                                  SNEAKYYYYYYYY PEEK

A soft ‘thank you’ leaves me in reply, and I think for the first time the silence isn’t awkward. I wonder if for him too it’s full of so many unspoken words that I’m dying to say, or if that’s just me. So often, I doubt that he feels the same way about me, but God, when he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world, I can’t remember what doubts are. And I swear he looks at me that way every single time.

Standing here before him, I remember the plan I made, and like he keeps his promises, I decide to keep this one. No matter if it’s the hardest one I’ve ever made in my entire life, and I know it’ll be the hardest one to keep.

                 “It’s still you, it always has been you, it always will be you.” 

                                                     - B.D.

His eyebrows knit into a question and I finally return to devouring his lips once they fall from the confines of his teeth. Hurried breaths escape us as I nudge my hips against his, sighing when his hand returns home to its place on my ass. He echoes my groan when my dripping center brushes against his warm tip, and I whimper when it tickles my clit. Goosebumps crawl across my flesh at the sensation, and at the sounds he makes. A smirk grows on my lips as I drag myself over him again, a high pitched sound leaving him. 

“Becks,” he sighs before I quiet his lips with a kiss, moving my own with his. 

The remnants of his morning coffee tickle my tastebuds while I massage his top lip between my own. I hum a question back to him, letting my fingers wander from his unshaven cheeks and down to his toned chest. My name leaves his lips once more while my wet folds drag over the slope of his cock below me. I try to replace my lips on his, but he won’t let me, and instead I find his dark eyes with mine. 

“What?” I huff, searching his eyes for an answer as I grind down onto him again. A giggle flies from my mouth when his bottom lip comes between his teeth, accented by a roll of his eyes. 

My laughing is forgotten when he presses down on my hips as he thrusts upwards, and his cock enters me suddenly. Now, it’s his turn to laugh as a surprised moan escapes me. 

“Not so funny bein’ teased, ‘s it, Becks?” Harry purrs, a smirk curling into his cheeks while my insides stretch around him. His breathy laugh tickles my neck as he leans forward to plant whispery kisses above my mother’s necklace he had gifted me. “Now, fookin’ ride me already, babe, befo’ I lose me patience and flip ya ova.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” I tease, feeling his warm breath waft over my face when he exhales while clucking his tongue. 

“Becks, Becks, Becks. I thought we were way past this ‘playin’ hard t’ get’ shit.”

“What, it’s fun?” I giggle, leaning forward slowly as I stare into his eyes before his lips meet mine. 

“Ya, fer you it ‘s.” My laugh dances across his lips as I lift my hips before letting them fall, feeling his groan against my mouth while his cock slides back into me. “Y’know jus’ what t’ do with me, dontcha, bug?”

I nod with a ‘shhh’ against his cheek where I trail kisses, whining when his thumb presses against my clit to draw circles. Curses fall under my breath when his hips meet mine in a thrust. 

“Fook, Becks, I love y-.” 

Bleeeeeeeeep! 

Flying to a sitting position, heavy breaths rack my chest as my bedroom comes into a blurry focus. Swallowing against my dry throat, I cough as I try to come back to reality, but that’s easier said than done after what just happened. Anything and everything is going to be difficult after that dream. 

“Holy fucking shit,” I mutter under my breath, letting my hands relax where they grasp at my sheets. With an attempted deep breath, I move back to sit up straighter in bed, the images from before burned into my brain. Harry’s face. The blush suit. His naked torso. His coc-

“Okay, Becky, it was just a dream. Just a stupidly amazing dream. Oh my God,” I whimper into my hands, letting my fingers card through my hair as I try to collect myself. “God, that dream was so amazing. Ugh, Harry,” I sigh sadly, a long whine spilling into the air as I recall every detail of the dream. Our made up daughter, the blissful feeling of his lips upon mine, and our naked bodies so close and then meeting. 

It was a dream indeed, because as if I wasn’t sure of it before, I know now that I want that more than anything. I want to be able to steal a kiss from him whenever my heart desires. I want his hugs whenever I need one. There’s a sharp pang in my chest when the next thought hits me. I want to have a family with him, and to have mini Harry’s running around, both girls and boys. 

“There’s so much that I want with you, Harry,” I murmur aloud, the floral design on my comforter growing hazy as tears fill my eyes, but nothing could ever cloud the dreams that sit behind them. The multitudes of dreams that all take place with him, and that my heart yearns for so badly. I want to finally be able to call him mine, and even if he doesn’t know it, I’ve been his for longer than I’ve known.

The churning sound of the percolating coffee pot rouses me from my bed where I’ve been stuck, unable to leave for far too long. Belatedly, my feet touch the floor as the images sting inside of my head.

“You’re just getting up? You’re gonna be late, Ree,” Skye scoffs when I finally drag my feet into the kitchen, limbs heavy with tainted dreams and sleep. “Aren’t you going to have any coffee?”

My head goes from side to side in answer, hopefully scrambling the ideas and images that ache within my mind. I had already slid on something decent looking and ran a brush through my hair, stuffing any makeup I could find into my purse for a later time today. Grabbing a banana and a muffin from the box on the counter, I make my way for the door, feeling like a zombie, after all that’s already happened this morning.

“Ree, are you alright? You won’t be late, you know, you still have ten minutes before you need to leave. I was joking,” she calls after me, but when I don’t reply as I pull my black Chelsea boots past my black jeggings, I hear my name again. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

I refrain and push away for as long as I can, but when I reach for the closet door, her fingers painted three different colors stops me. Again, that nickname I’ve had for almost my entire life falls from her lips as she guides me over to the sofa.

“What is it? Did something happen?” she implores, but with my eyes glued to an unraveling tassel on the rug, I continue to ignore her until I can’t any longer.

“I had the weirdest dream of my entire life,” I confess softly, surprised at the sound of my own voice, and how much it sounded like that of the voice in my dream. The continuity of it all, as well as the numerous discrepancies only confuse me the more.

“Tell me about it, it must have bothered you. I can tell,” she encourages softly, running a hand through my wavy curls.

“I was at the firm with Harry, working with him,” I begin, soon hearing her question of how that was so weird until I shake my head, eyes still elsewhere. “I had just come back after a maternity leave, because we had a baby together. A girl. Her name was Iris, and I don’t know why because I don’t even like that name. I must have been working there again for a year or so, and his mum was taking care of her while the two of us worked. He got mad at me for not finding a good client for a new case, and then he said I could have anything I wanted to make up for it. I told him I wanted to play Strip Scrabble and we did in his office, and then we had sex on that very sofa in his office, Skye. Sex, like every single detail of it was in my dream. How could I know what his dick looks like if I’ve never seen it before? And we were talking about our daughter together so casually, and we were kissing, a-and-,” I come to a sudden stop, the words expiring from my lips as my eyes widen.

“Holy shit, that’s one intense dream, Ree. But, why was it so- Oh,” Skye replies, her hand falling to my arm that she runs her palm along soothingly. “Sorry, I haven’t had my coffee yet this morning either, so I’m a little slow to the punches.”

“It’s what I want, well besides naming my daughter Iris, because that was the name of the bully in our third-grade class who kept stealing my favorite erasers. I’d never name my daughter that. And ugh, how do I get there? I don’t even start for another five days, and I already miss him even though we’ve been texting. Now, I miss him even more because of that stupid wet dream,” I sigh, letting my head fall into my hands as my heart aches, another chip falling from the disintegrating armor within my chest.

“It sounds like to me that maybe you should pay a special visit to see a certain somebody today,” she suggests cheekily, her words lifting my head and turning it to her. “Come on, it’s not that hard, Ree. Make up an excuse to go and see him! Oh, you were just in the neighborhood, or you had to drop off a document that you didn’t actually have to do, or-.”

“Or, I could bring Asher lunch,” I suggest feebly, extending a hand forward in question.

“Yeah, make him jealous! Make him think that you’re there to bring him lunch and eat with him, but really it’s for Asher! He’ll go nuts, please do it or else I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day,” Skye squeals, hands coming together in a prayer-like fold. A shy giggle escapes my lips as I nod, the idea knitting together within my head, soon pushing away the dream. It’s not that easy though, because I know it’s going to take a long time to remember that vivid as fuck dream. Oh yes, a very long time, indeed.

“Who knew that four hours could feel so long,” I huff, standing to my feet and quickly sliding on my coat, hugging Skye as I begin to count down the minutes until my lunch break at one o’clock. I just hope to God that he’ll be around at that time. My monstrous doubts are silenced when I remember from last Friday that he waited until around that time to eat lunch, keeping his entire hour free to do just that.

Here I come, Harry. Well, Real Harry, not Dream Harry, but maybe one day he’ll be both of them. I can only hope, very hard. Maybe one day soon, it’ll finally pay off, all this hoping and dreaming.

+

“Since when do you bring me lunch?” Asher questions, confusion painting his face in waves as he stares dumbfounded at the brown paper bag in front of him.

“Because you’re one of my best friends, and I’m nice,” I answer feebly, shrugging my shoulders as I unwrap the greasy paper around the burger. An unsure laugh escapes his grinning lips as a golden chip disappears between them.

Soon, my burger is gone and so are my chips and drink. Meanwhile, Asher is still crunching away on his as I steal nervous glances at him. Wringing my hands in my lap, I nibble at the inside of my cheek anxiously.

“Okay, go already,” Asher sighs, waving a hand at me to shoo.

“What?”

“I know you’re not here for me,” he begins firmly, but when my eyes narrow at him, his face relaxes. “And it’s okay. I appreciate the lunch, but go see him already, Becky. I’m sure he’s dying to see you too.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, get out of here already,” he grins while picking up another chip dotted with salt.

“Thanks, Ash!” I exclaim with a beaming smile. “You’re the best!” I finish on the way out his door.

“I’ll remember you said that!” he laughs in return as I already trek down the hallway, failing to ignore my heart hammering against my rib cage. There it is again, Asher speaking for how Harry feels, as if he knows him when I thought they’ve spoken like three times in total? Hmm, weird, again.

Like it so usually is, his hallway is empty, and I just hope that I won’t be interrupting something. An important phone call. A meeting. A consultation with a potential client. Or that all of this is for nothing and his office is empty, because he’s at one of the courthouses around town. God, I really hope it’s not that last one.

Again, like so many times before, his door is closed when I arrive in front of it. Somehow, it sends a tingle down my spine reading his name etched into his door, and the boasting title below it. Something I can’t remember doing very much, and I can’t recall why. It catches me off guard, which is rare, because most of the time he’s just Harry. My Harry. Then, I remember that he’s this insanely successful and well-known lawyer who co-owns this law firm, and it throws me for a loop. Not to mention the stunner that he’s my boss, again.

With a deep breath, I bring my fist to the glass and knock. I straighten my black Columbia opened to my floral blouse and smooth down my black slacks. I just hope I look more than decent after swiping mascara onto my lashes before coming here. But after waiting a few moments, I realize that I’m worried about it all for nothing when there’s no answer. I did this all for nothing.

Turning around, my chest falls with a sigh and my head hangs low, until I hear a sound. My name. Glancing up, a smile breaks it way onto my lips at the sight in front of me.

“Dunno if I can trust me eyes. ‘s that Becks I see waitin’ at me door?” he rasps with that adorable breathy laugh, walking towards me with the ancient messenger bag strewn across his chest. “Hullo, darlin.’ T’ what do I owe tha pleasure?” Harry asks, stopping just a step away as a smile clings to his lips, its exit nowhere in sight. Yeah, my smile feels rather eternal as well.

“Hi, Harry. I almost thought I had missed you,” I shrug, realizing too late the irony in my words, but all of a sudden, I don’t really care what he makes of them. After all of this time, I’m so sick of hiding my secret.

“Yer right on time, bug. I jus’ got back from me mornin’ in court,” he murmurs, the honey sticking to every word he speaks. He nods his messy head of chestnut curls towards his office as he unlocks it, and I gladly follow him. “Seems tha last thing we were talkin’ ‘bout in our texts was what food we’ve been cookin’. Do I get any o’ those brownies yet?”

“Not quite yet,” I grin, keeping my hands hidden behind my back as I observe his movements.

“Shucks, ‘ve really been lookin’ forward t’ ‘em, ya make ‘em sound so good,” he giggles softly, draping his North Face over the back of his office chair.

His long legs clad in a pastel purple suit carry him over to his sofa where he drops his messenger bag with a plop, and it all comes rushing back to me. The sofa. That baby pink suit. The Scrabble game board and tiles that I don’t know the next time that I’ll be able to touch without that dream ruining it for me. The stupid name, Iris, that funny enough doesn’t seem too bad now. That confusing dream, and all that it entailed.

“Alright?” Harry says, his deep voice pulling me back to the present. I blink hard and focus my eyes back on him, soon nodding. “Good. How ya been since yer orientation last week? Sorry we haven’t spoken much, ‘ve been busy with this case ‘m finishin’ up.”

“It’s okay and I’m good, maybe this will help,” I answer, setting down the striped white and blue paper bag. His eyes fall to it and his smile grows, reaching all edges of his blushing face.

“Becks, you didn’t,” he chuckles, reaching forward and prying open the bag. “Aw, love, ya rememba’d. Thank you, ‘s been too long since ‘ve had one o’ these muffins, they’re me favourite,” Harry finishes, setting down the bag smelling of croissants and sugar cookies.

His favorite muffin in the entire world sits inside wrapped in waxed paper, a lemon poppy seed muffin with a powdered sugar glaze. It took, let’s just say a lot in me to not eat it myself in the lift, because after he introduced them to me, I became addicted to them too. They have to be the most delicious and light muffins I’ve ever had, and not to mention incredibly flavorful and yes, moist.

“I hope ya got yerself one, I know ya like ‘em too.”

“Don’t worry, I couldn’t resist. I ate a little bit on the way here, and then I’m going to save the rest for later,” I tell him, clasping my hands together and twirling the ring around my finger anxiously.

“Jus’ how I taught ya, ‘atta girl,” he nods with the happiness consuming his features - eyes, cheeks, and all. “Thank you, Becks . . But I hope ya didn’t make a special trip jus’ fer a muffin.”

“It’s okay,” I reply with a shrug of my shoulders, my attention lingering on the sincerity held in his thank you, and in his eyes during those three simple words. Not simple enough. “I picked up burgers to have with Asher, so I was uh, in the neighborhood.”

“Ah, I see,” he nods, rolling up the lip of the bag to keep it fresh. Scratching at his cheek, he avoids my gaze and sure enough, Skye is right.

Is he jealous?

Oh, girl, he is jealous indeed. You better use it to your advantage.

I just might, but I don’t know if I have it in me for those kinds of games, anymore.

Becky, you better.

“‘m glad ya stopped, ‘s good t’ see you. Are ya on yer lunch break or sumthin’?” he wonders aloud, bare nails tapping along the head of his chair his hands drape over. Why oh why, does he have to stand so far away? It’s killing me. He receives his answer when my head rises and falls with a nod. “Mmmm, I figured.”

“I should probably go, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” I announce suddenly, lies laced through every single syllable I regrettably speak.

The heaviness in my gut at having to leave grows another few pounds when I watch the disappointment leech the happiness from his face. I’m sure Sophie wouldn’t mind if I was late returning after my break if I told her who I was with. This is due to during each free moment we have, I may or may not be telling her all about him. She may or may not be loving every second of it, and so do I.

“Yer neva a botha, Becks. I dunno why ya’ve always thought that. I love seein’ ya, but if ya hafta get back t’ work I undastand,” Harry mumbles, fingertips pressing into the black leather quickly. “But hey, next week this will be yer place o’ work again, kinda mad t’ think. Inn’a good way, tho.’”

“I know, I can’t wait,” I smile, his echoing mine already as the dimples live in his cheeks covered in more dark stubble than the last time I saw him. Holy hell, am I not complaining about it. “I like the stubble by the way,” I blurt out, ghosting a hand over my cheeks to refer to his.

A buttery laugh flows from his lips as he runs his long digits over his cheeks, suddenly turning me into the jealous one within seconds. “Thanks, I dunno what ‘m doin’ with it really. It doesn’t make me look too old or anythin’, does it?”

“No, it looks really good on you. You look great, Harry,” I confess, waiting for that hot embarrassment to cover me in waves, but it doesn’t. Instead, a sense of contentment washes over me, and I’m grateful for finally telling the truth, however insignificant.

“Thank you, bug. You do as well, in yer uh, courthouse outfit. I shoulda stopped t’ say hi this mornin’ when I was there, sorry I didn’t think o’ it. This case has jus’ been mad, I can’t wait fo’ it t’ be ova.”

“I guess it’s okay, as long as you say hi the next time,” I tell him, hands clasped behind my back again. Another titter sings from his lips as the words hit me, knowing full well that that would be tomorrow, and boy, do I want to show him off to everybody. Even if he’s just my new boss and my friend right now. For now.

“Ya have me promise on that one, and I like yer hair longa again, y’know. Ya look like me Becks again, it was different bein’ all short befo’. Still pretty, jus’ different,” he comments, nodding his head at me once again, helping him talk. Yeah, I’d probably have to do the same thing if it was me, because I would undoubtedly be struggling for words after what he just said. Man, oh man.

A soft ‘thank you’ leaves me in reply, and I think for the first time the silence isn’t awkward. I wonder if for him too it’s full of so many unspoken words that I’m dying to say, or if that’s just me. So often, I doubt that he feels the same way about me, but God, when he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world, I can’t remember what doubts are. And I swear he looks at me that way every single time.

I wish I could do it all right now, or even just one something. One kiss, but I need to wait. I should wait until he comes back from that case, and things are established with my new job. Standing here before him, I remember the plan I made, and like he keeps his promises, I decide to keep this one. No matter if it’s the hardest one I’ve ever made in my entire life, and I know it’ll be the hardest one to keep.

“I’ll leave you to your muffin and your case then, Harry. It was good to see you, I’ll um, text you,” I announce finally, feeling the weight in my words. The longing. The anticipation. The regret. The excitement. The everything.

“Thanks fer stoppin’, Becks, I enjoyed yer li’l surprise visit. ‘s always so good t’ see you. Have a good rest o’ yer day, and I can’t wait fer tha muffin. Thanks again. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, bug,” he smiles before I return it with a breathy ‘bye’ and then turn around, and wonder why this was so hard.

I wonder why I was nervous about this all morning, and also why I never took Skye’s advice before in the last two years and stopped to say hi to him. Lastly, I soon realize why, because it even hurts to walk away from him now when everything is so close. I know now if I had done the same thing all of those times Skye had told me to, I don’t think I could have handled leaving him and not being able to come back in just a few more days, like I get to do now. I have so much ahead of me, and he’ll be there every day, just as he promised.

Finally.

+

For some godawful reason, my department is always the busiest in the middle of the week, and two years after working here, I still don’t know why. The number of forms I’ve had to distribute, collect, and then do the job of submitting already this morning boggles my mind. Finally, I found a gap in the craziness to grab a cup of tea and a chance to catch my breath. Unfortunately, the fancy teas that I had been enjoying my few moments of peace and quiet with have since disappeared, and nothing but green tea and English Breakfast remain.

“It looks like I need to do some shopping, I’m sorry for the depressing tea drawer, love,” a voice murmurs from behind me as I linger there with the drawer open.

“It’s okay, I don’t have English Breakfast enough, anyways,” I comment, feigning complacency because I was really looking forward to a refreshing fruity cup of tea. I craved something exciting to break up the monotony of today, and training my replacement in. An experience I’ve never once enjoyed.

“You only have a few days left, love. How’re you feeling about it?” Sophie questions, arriving at my side with a pat to my arm. “Wait, I dunno why I asked. If I were you, I’d be itching to get out of here too after the shit storm this morning was,” she laughs as she opens the fridge, muttering about the lack of anything good to eat or drink around here. Our laughs mingle with the other’s during the next few minutes as I debate whether or not to make a cup of tea, finally deciding the need for caffeine is greater than that of my stubborn taste buds.

The rest of the day was rather steady with the flow of people in and out, making it unfortunate for my ‘browsing lawyer outfits’ time, and fortunate for my replacement’s training. Thank God, they dipped out a few hours before we closed, so I could stop feeling like somebody was breathing over my shoulder. At least by now, they seem to have mostly everything down pat, and I soon got to take over the role of ‘the breathing over the shoulder.’ Not soon enough, though.

The tea hadn’t quite done the job, and my lunch was rather unfulfilling as well, but I had gotten used to that sensation recently. With only a few hours left of the work day, I saw my end in my sight, and yet every time I looked at the clock, only a few more minutes had passed. Then of course, we had run out of copies of a certain form, leading moi to have to make more. Yipee!

It was just one of those days, because next thing I know, a stranger is almost biting my head off for telling him he needs his birth certificate for a form, as if I made the rule or something. It all only kept reminding me of how happy I was to be leaving this job soon, no matter how good it had been to me over the last two years. I couldn’t leave soon enough, I was on my last straw.

“Becky, you’re being requested,” a coworker of mine tells me from over my shoulder. I hurriedly slide the new copies of yet another form onto the shelf behind the front desk.

“What now?” I grumble under my breath, trying to turn around without bumping into her behind the front desk where we handle all of the customers, if you want to call them that. The public, the people, the clients- the whatever.

A huff passes my lips and by now, I’m done slapping on a cheery smile for a stranger, because it doesn’t even pay to do it anymore. But when I find the smiling face that awaits me, I don’t even have to think about putting on a happy face, because a smile is already claiming my lips.

“Harry, h-hi,” I say, the words tumbling clumsily from my lips.

“Hi, Becks. How are you?” he asks adamantly, lips settling into a content smile with one corner greeting his cheek. I could never see enough of those dimples, I really couldn’t.

“I’m okay,” I sigh, my eyebrows touching my forehead before falling.

“Rough day, love?” he hums softly, and I nod in response, somehow hearing all of the extra words inside of his. “‘m sorry, seems we’re both havin’ a shitty day, but I hope this’ll help,” he finishes, bringing forth an arm draped in his familiar warm gray blazer, setting down a tall white Starbucks drink in front of me. I know without needing to taste it that it’s my favorite drink, my drink. I already know that he remembered, and soon the name of the drink falls from his lips.

“Thank you so much, it’s much appreciated. You’ve always had a good memory, it’s something I know you for.”

“‘s it now?” he titters softly, his thumb and forefinger finding a distraction with his bottom lip for the twentieth time, not at all to my dismay. “‘m glad it’ll help, bug. I jus’ got in a few minutes ago fer anotha day o’ arguin’ me case.”

“Oh, well thanks so much for thinking of me, it was sweet of you.”

“‘Course, Becks, I couldn’t not come and say hi t’ me favourite person here at tha courts,” he smiles, and the combination of that grin and those words light that fire inside of me that was rekindled when I got to see him yesterday.

My oh my, two days in a row now. I am one lucky girl.

Only a few more days, Becky, and you get to be lucky every day!

Maybe you even get to be a certain kind of lucky, hehe.

Stop.

“Are those blushin’ cheeks, I see?” he teases, setting down his arms to rest them on the space where people usually lay down their forms and the like. Yet, here he is standing there in that warm gray blazer he wore for my class lecture, a suit I’ll never forget.

“Stop,” I laugh, trying to fix my hair, and soon remembering the embarrassment that is my lack of makeup. Once again, I didn’t even try this morning, and I admittedly spaced that I told him to come and say hi today.

And here he is, just as he promised he would be.

Yes, just he like he promised. God, can he get any better?

Yeah, if the two of you fucking kissed already.

Tell me about it.

“Ya look even prettier when ya blush, y’know that?” he snickers, that familiar song leaving his lips and finding its way to my heart, just like it so often does. I have a feeling he’s not letting up on the brake either in the honesty department, and I’m so surprised I don’t know what to do with this onslaught of feelings.

My glowing smile that couldn’t grow any bigger doesn’t get a chance to let any words out, because we probably look like idiots just staring at each other. Yet, I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I think that’s becoming my tagline for this whole entire thing. Sure, I wish things could have been easier from the get go, but I’ve come to peace with not being able to change the past. Especially, when I’m so excited about the future and all of the multitudes it holds.

“So do you, you know,” I reply mischievously, suddenly wishing I could pull off a wink like he can so effortlessly as he does that very thing.

“Good one, Becks,” he tsks, shaking his head as he wags a finger at me. What I would do to be able to touch it and to hold that hand. Wow, I need to get myself under control, but I really don’t want to. “Ah, ‘s this yer lovely boss I spoke t’ on tha phone?” Harry says, turning his attention to Sophie who had slipped behind the desk to grab something, but now her eyes are on him.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met,” she announces, taking his hand that he holds out. Silently, I applaud how she pretends that she doesn’t know who this is, as if I haven’t shown her a few pictures of him already. It may have been a few, or enough that she’s decided she prefers him with the longer hair from before. “I’m Sophie Waters, Court Administrator here, and you are?”

“Harry Styles, Attorney at Law, from Styles and Lawson. ‘m uh Becky’s former boss, and well, new boss now. I jus’ stopped t’ say hi befo’ continuin’ me case t’day down tha hall,” Harry replies with a warm smile, once again any hand shrinking in comparison to his massive one. There are very few things that surprise me about him anymore, and yet I’m still surprised by the attentiveness, kindness, and professionalism he carries every time I’m present for him meeting somebody. I’ve witnessed it a handful of times now, and it still makes me melt as if it could never grow old.

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Styles. I’ve heard a lot about you from Becky,” she responds gently, faking the brightness in her eyes at the realization of connecting the dots. I think we have him fooled, Sophie. Yes!

“Please, call me Harry. I get enough o’ ‘Mr. Styles’ as it ‘s,” he tells her, lifting a hand into the air to accentuate his words. “Oh, has she now? Should I be worried?” he wonders aloud to Sophie, peeking an eye over at me with a raised eyebrow, stroking his hairy chin. The dimple sits in his left cheek again, and he surprises me with another wink before returning his attention to Sophie. It continues to amaze me how he always devotes his attention to whoever he’s speaking to, and yet he still seems to be fully present with me.

“No, not at all, it’s all been very nice. She’s quite fond of you as well, and I know she’s excited to come back and work with you, even though I’ll miss her.”

My eyes dart from Sophie’s bittersweet smile to that of Harry’s whose eyes linger on me without my knowing, and I wonder what they hold. As if I haven’t asked myself this question time and time again, I wish I could know what he’s thinking. I wish I could ask, and that he would tell me.

“I can’t wait t’ have her back with me at me firm next week. Thank you fer takin’ such good care o’ her here tha last two years. I know she’s enjoyed it, and tha experience will help her loads fer when she comes back t’ work with me as my mentee,” he continues, and I swear that somehow he manages to be sexy while talking about him being my mentor. I think he knows, and that perhaps he has some inkling that it’s my favorite part about this whole thing. I could never hear too much about it.

“You’re very welcome, and I trust you’ll take good care of her again. I’m certainly looking forward to seeing what our little Becky will do, and running into her in the halls here. Speaking of which, why don’t you walk him to the courtroom? I think things are dying down here as of now,” she encourages, goodbyes soon bid between the both of them. A tight lipped smile plays on my lips as I look at her over my shoulder while he leads the way. She just shrugs her shoulders with the tiniest of waves, and I silently thank her repeatedly.

“She’s very nice,” he comments once we reach the hallway, and it all feels new. Then again, it’s hard to tell when there are so many new things going on in my life as of late.

“Yeah, she is. She’s been a really great boss and friend,” I respond, clasping my hands together as our footsteps follow the other, both in sounds and in distance. “But you’re my favourite boss of all time.”

“Am I now?” he boasts, flitting his eyes to mine with a effervescence behind them as his dark eyebrows dance overhead. I only nod, but it’s soon captured by a giggle when his arm comes around my shoulders and pulls me against him. “Good. I better be yer favourite, Becks.”

“Don’t go messing it up now!” I squeal when I feel his fingers on my side, finding my ticklish spots that he still remembers.

“Don’t worry, I neva would, Becks. Neva again will I mess it up with you,” he whispers, long fingers drifting to my shoulder that he squeezes. Glancing upwards, I find his sincere eyes waiting for mine and they take away another chunk of the wall around my heart. There’s not much left of it now.

“Am I your favourite, too?”

“Favourite what, bug?” he inquires, eyes darting away at times to watch where we’re going, but by now we’ve wandered to the side of the hallway and stopped. I too wonder where I’m going with this.

“I don’t know, maybe-.”

“Ya, yer me favourite one,” he answers, interrupting suddenly.

“I didn’t even get to say what,” I protest, but it all collapses into a giggle that he soon copies.

“Doesn’t matta, ya still are, no matta what it ‘s. Oh hey, looks like we’re in tha right place, this ‘s me courtroom fer tha afternoon.”

Although painstaking, my eyes leave him to find the wooden doors of Courtroom #3 just across the way. The confession that just fell between us and the reminder that he has to leave combine into a tragic concoction. In the same breath, they fill me with something I haven’t had for a long time. Bravery.

“I should let you go then, literally,” I giggle, stepping away and letting his arm fall from my shoulder, a triumph in itself. “Good luck with your case today, I hope everything goes well. You’ll do great, Harry, I know it,” I tell him, taking hold of one of his hands like I’ve wanted to do for the last ten minutes, and possibly much, much longer.

“Thank ya, bug. Maybe ‘ll do good afta seein’ me good luck charm,” he mumbles, a warm pink filling his cheeks as his eyebrows lift with a nod to me. “Hopefully ‘m all finished t’day, or at tha latest t’morrow. Then I get some time t’ relax and plan ahead befo’ you come along next week.”

“Hey!” I scoff, and he surrenders with that delightful song his lips create as I squeeze his hand.

“I didn’t mean it like that, jus’ gotta get ready fer t-this new beginnin’, bug. That’s all. Y’know ‘ve been lookin’ forward t’ it . . eva since ya got tha job,” he insists, but I was never upset. He was right that one time, I can read him as good as anybody else I’m close to. His expressions, his tics, and the words he doesn’t say.

“I know, I’m just giving you a hard time, which you better get ready for, Styles. You won’t need it, but again, good luck today, Harry,” I announce, the syllables shaky as they fly from my lips. I just hope he can’t feel the trembles devastating my body in this very moment as I stand on my tippy toes and press my lips to his prickly cheek. “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“I will, Becks. Promise,” Harry says, the two dimples alive and well in his reddening cheeks when I dare to look him in the eyes after that. A gentle squeeze from his hand accentuates his words. A short breathy laugh escapes his happy lips as he looks back at me, and even though we again look dumb staring at the other, I think we shared a few more words in that moment. Ones we weren’t sure of how to say or when to say them, but we still did. “Have a good rest o’ yer day. ‘s always a treat t’ see ya, bug.”

“You too, Harry, thanks for saying hi. You may have made my day.”

“May have, hmm? ‘s that right? I wonder what I could do t’ actually make it,” he ponders aloud, doing that dorky thing again where he strokes his nonexistent beard. Dorky or not, I love it more than I could know. An eyebrow nears his forehead wrinkled in his quizzical expression that’s dissolved by another breathy laugh, all while his thumb draws circles onto my knuckles. “Maybe I should take one from yer book, hmm?” I barely have the time to think about what he means or for the emotion to play on my face, because he dips down and places a kiss on my cheek. To top it all off, his other hand comes to cup my head as he presses another kiss there, his fingers affectionately tickling my hair as he does so.

“Bye, bug. It made me day two days in a row gettin’ t’ see you. I dunno what ‘ll do gettin’ t’ see ya e’ry day next week, and two weeks afta that, and e’ry week afta that,” he reveals in a whisper against my hair, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

If there weren’t theoretical butterflies in my tummy before now, they’re surely alive and well now as I watch him walk away, and give me a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the chambers. All because of the words he just said, and the proximity of his lips to mine just a few moments ago. I think he just might know how I feel about top of the head kisses, and it’s all thanks to him. I have so very much to thank him for.

I think I know what I’m going to do about it, Harry. Oh yes, I do and you’re making this waiting game all the harder when you do things like that.

+

The next few days until I started back at the firm sometimes went painstakingly slow, and at other times, they flew by like a breeze. I think the long texting conversations with Harry helped the time pass. It went by with the speed of molasses when I sat at my desk during my last few days wishing I was sitting at another desk, longing to be somewhere else. More than once, a random text from Harry brightened my day, whether it was a song he thought I’d like, a recipe for a baked good, more often a mixed drink, or something about the show FRIENDS.

Now, with shaking knees I reverse my steps until my back runs into the little rest on the wall of the lift. As I watch the number climb higher, the thrashing of my heart quickens as it nears the one I wait for. Quickly, the pan held in my hands and the jade-colored blouse I wear both feel stupid and inadequate. I’ve been dying for this day to come, and yet here I am, feeling as if I’ll die from my overactive nerves, now that it’s here.

The doors soon part with a ding, and Seventeen comes back to me, too quickly and at the same time, not quick enough. I can’t get my legs to move as the anxiousness attempts to consume me, but as the doors begin to slide shut, I make it out just in time. Few people linger in the lobby this morning, seemingly waiting for appointments and trekking back and forth from the printer and other places. The very person my eyes, and perhaps heart, search for this morning is nowhere to be found. On my way down the hallway, my feet stray to my office that beckons for me, and it’s like the first time all over again.

It’s cozy and the lights inside of it are warm and mellow. The natural light seeping in through the window to London might be my favorite part, although there are so many good features to it. I say hi to the succulent as I set down my handheld laptop bag, over the chest purse, and the covered pan. The sight of it all and what it means, brings tears to my eyes that I knew were coming, but I weakly attempt to whisk them away. Sniffling, my lips greet my cheeks as I take another look around. This is all mine, and all thanks to Harry whose touch I can see in so many places.

“Alright?” a voice murmurs from behind me, and I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. But I do, and there he stands, waiting for me with a smile brimming with warmth. Slowly, this all feels too good to be true, and yet it feels so right and so overdue. “Come and give yer new boss a hug, will ya?” I don’t need to be told twice and within moments, his spicy vanilla scent engulfs me once more, welcoming me home.

Finally, oh finally, I’m home again.

“Jus’ gonna assume those are happy tears,” he hums from above me, and I nod into his shoulder with a giggle that matches his own. “Good, I may have shed some o’ my own, but ‘m not revealin’ all o’ me secrets t’day.”

With dried tears on my cheeks and a song inside of my chest, he squeezes me before I pull away to find his sparkling green eyes.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hiya, Becks. Ya ready fer yer first official day as a lawyer at Styles and Lawson?” Harry beams, brushing his thumb across each of my cheeks briefly, lastly tapping my nose.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Sure? I was expectin’ mo’ excitement outta you. Why dontcha sound so confident ‘bout it, bug?”

“I’m just nervous. I don’t want to screw anything up, or do something wrong,” I reveal slowly, feeling the weight of my words that hold more meanings than I can accept. I can’t even fathom the thought of him reading into all of it, knowing how well we know the other.

“Deep breaths, Becks. Ya did wondaful on yer orientation day, and I know you’ll do bloody amazin’ t’day. ‘m here t’ help with that, t’ guide ya and help ya learn. We’ll start off slow t’day - we have a team meetin’ in half an hour at nine-thirty. There, ya can meet e’rybody ‘gain properly and they can meet you. I know they’ll all love ya too, bug,” he explains with a gentleness to his speech, and yet it doesn’t help me relax, and only makes my heart slam against my rib cage harder. “Hey, relax ‘kay? Then tha rest o’ tha day we’ll start t’ work on me case I have next week. Afta some o’ that, we’ll take a break, and prolly play some cribbage while we eat lunch. Durin’ all o’ this, ‘ll introduce ya t’ some stuff, and tha processes we have t’ use. I know we went ova ‘em durin’ yer orientation, but this will all be a refresher. We went ova most o’ tha legalities and borin’ proper rubbish last time, so we can dive in this time. Ya ready?”

I nod and begin to turn away, but then I feel his hand squeeze my arm. Looking back, he winks at me with a few encouragements behind his eyes. I try to hold onto them after they disappear when his eyes dart to my desk.

“Becks, are those what I think they are?” he almost groans through gritted teeth, but happily. His hands escape from his wine colored pockets and slowly reach for the pan sitting on my desk.

“Mmmhmm, but you can only eat one right now.”

“Yer no fun,” he pouts as he brings a dark, chocolatey square to his lips. The war being fought within my gut, or so it feels, rages on as I wait for his reaction. “Fook, these are incredible brownies, and ya made ‘em from scratch? Yer bloody amazin’, Becks.”

“You’re welcome, I’m relieved you like them. I forget to ask if you like cakey brownies, or fudgey brownies.”

“Fudgey, all tha way. ‘m no pussy,” he cracks, picking up the pan and plopping onto my sofa with it held possessively in his lap.

“Oh good, I’m so glad you said that. If you had said anything else, I don’t think we could be friends anymore,” I reveal sarcastically, falling onto the pillow cushions beside him.

“Bloody hell, ya’d neva break up with me ova sumthin’ as stupid as that, although brownie preference ‘s very important,” Harry scoffs, his eyes falling to the pan where he plucks another small square from, handing it to me. “Alright, afta we’re done with our brownies, are ya ready t’ start this thing, bug?” he wonders aloud and earns a nod from me, knocking his knee against mine casually. I try not to freak out when he leaves it resting there, or when I have to pull away to use the bathroom.

After taking my time in the bathroom, noting the extensions of the remodel to even this part of the firm, I wander into the break room with the same intentions. Memories are thrown at me from every direction, and I try not to dwell on the negative ones, but they overwhelm me. All of the shared lunches with Asher venting about Harry. Hiding from Harry in here when he had gotten mad at me for whatever ungodly reason it was that day. The pathetic cold lunches I would bring. I especially feel the sting when I remember that time I walked in on Harry kissing Amber, and he came here to look for me afterwards. That one perhaps hurts the most, because it brings up all of the others that revolve around her and what she did to me. She was the real reason I left in the first place, because she got the dominoes falling.

“How’s your first day been so far? I hope it’s off to a good start,” somebody comments from behind me, curiosity behind their words. Looking over my shoulder, I find Myles strolling in with an empty cup that he sets down by the electric tea kettle on the counter.

“It’s going good so far, thanks. I just got here a few minutes ago, but it’s a little daunting, I must say.”

“Yeah, it can be, but don’t let it get to you. Harry will be there every step of the way, and I know he’s over the moon about having you back, and working with him on top of it all,” he assures me with a gentle smile as he rinses out the mug. There it is again, him and Asher keep doing it, and it’s not helping with this whole ‘trying not to go crazy over Harry thing’ all over again. Well, too soon, that is.

“Thank you, really,” I nod appreciatively. “Hey, while I have you here, I was wondering if you have any plans for his big birthday on Friday?”

“Eh, not really, he doesn’t want anything. He’s already upset about turning thirty.”

“What, how come? I tease him about getting old, but it’s just a number, and it’s really not that old,” I comment, watching his shoulders rise only to fall as he rips open a packet of tea I didn’t catch the name of.

“Yeah, I know, but I dunno. He said he thought he’d have more to show for being thirty, and that it’s depressing to him, or something.”

“Oh, so co-owning a renowned law firm, and being one of the most successful lawyers in London isn’t enough for him at thirty?” I scoff, observing the smile bending his lips upwards while the hot water gurgles into his mug.

“I told him the same thing and I’m sure you know him well enough to know how swimmingly that went. It seems you know him better than me in some rights,” he tuts, jigging the bag of tea up and down in the steaming water.

“Sometimes I think so, and other times not so much,” I comment, the words getting the better of me as my voice falls to a melancholy whisper. “We should do something for his birthday, though. We could at least do a cake and lunch.”

“That would be perfect. I’ll order pizzas from that pizzeria he likes over on Juniper Street, and we can have some drinks too.”

“Sounds great, I’ll take care of the cake. I remember he loves chocolate a little too much sometimes,” I laugh, and he nods while one sits at the edges of his mouth. “All we have left to do then is to tell everybody, well except for Rory, because I don’t know, he seems like he can’t keep a secret. I hear he has a big mouth, so that’s probably why, and he’s also too flirty.”

The laugh finally explodes from Myles’ lips as he adds a fresh spoon to his aromatic mug, fitting a finger through the handle as his lips part, “Right you are, Becky. I knew I was right to let Harry convince me to hire you, because you’re as smart as a whip.”

My own chuckling soon matches Myles’ and it continues for a few more moments, before we part our separate ways, and soon I get to meet the entire firm. It was overwhelming, which seemed to be the word of the day for me. I had recognized only a few of them from when I had worked here before, but a few more of them I’d never met, even though they’ve worked here for years. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to memorize the names of the dozen or so lawyers that make up the legal team at the firm, but with Harry by my side, I could breathe a little easier.

“How d’ya think yer first day went, Becks?” Harry hums, playing with his bottom lip from his perch across from me.

“Good, I think I’ll feel better now that it’s done. There’s so much pressure on having a good first day,” I answer, exhaling when I place my last card down. “Twenty seven for six.”

“Ya did bloody great per usual, and a go ‘s seven, which makes you tha winna,” Harry tsks, shaking his head while he tosses the rest of the cards down in a huff. “Looks like ya got some luck from yer first day right there. I thought I had ya at tha beginnin’, but I reckon yer gettin’ good at this game. Beginner’s luck right there, beatin’ me in our first game in years.”

“Thank you, boss,” I reply, trying to forget the connotations of that word from that confusing dream I had. When I lift my eyes to his, stretching out my hand of cards, his grin grows a fraction as his hand surrounds mine. “Good game.”

“Good game, love. Ya should head out now, ‘s already five-thirty, unless ya’d like t’ grab a few celebratory drinks with me. Again.”

“I’d love to. Did you drive the bike to work this morning?” I inquire, letting the expectant happiness loose on my face as I watch it unravel on his.

“Perhaps, and I may have packed an extra coat in case sumbody gets cold again.”

Once again, words escape me as we pack up the cribbage game while laughing, setting the board and cards on the bookshelf above us on the sofa. A few words suffice an escape to my office where I pack up, realizing I never touched my laptop, glancing over to the brand new rose gold Macbook Pro he surprised me with. I swear he can pull a tear from me like no other person can, in a good and bad way, and it didn’t help when he explained he chose it over a cheaper iMac. The tears came harder when he ended it by telling me that it’s because I’ll be spending so much time with him in his office, and it’s easier to tote around.

“Ready t’ go, bug? I found this new shot called a B-52 that I want us t’ try, sounds like sumthin’ we’d like coz it’s a creamy coffee type o’ one,” Harry says, catching me off guard from his stance leaning against my doorway. Once again, I swear he knows the things he does to me, especially in that wine colored suit hugging his trim body. My favorite color, and he knows it too. I murmur a short response as I slide on my coat, placing my back to him as I drape my purse over my shoulder. “Figured we could grab dinna befo’ if ya wanted, me tummy’s makin’ all these weird noises tellin’ me ‘s hungry.”

“That sounds great,” I hum happily, peering down to fasten the buttons on my coat. I wonder where that melancholy went from all of the times I dreaded the end of our visits, unsure of when I’d see him next. A thought finds its way up my warming cheeks when I realize that it’s here at last, the end of that and the beginning of getting to see his smiling face every single morning. Again. It grows bigger when another thought rushes on by.

It’s one more day of keeping my promise, and the end of it is in sight. It’s just another day, and one just like it will be here tomorrow and all of the tomorrows after that.

[kageyamavibes]

『Rainy days』

✎ Pairings: Akaashi Keiji x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Fluff

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

It was raining non-stop that day.

Rainy days were your favourite, the sound of the rain pouring down the roof makes you feel at ease. The cold breeze was always the perfect match for your knitted sweater that Akaashi bought for you. You smile at yourself, reminiscing the days you two first met.

It was your first year at Fukurodani, it was raining that day unfortunately you forgot your umbrella. You sighed begrudgingly, you didn't want to get soaked since your finals were starting tomorrow. You stood by the entrance, hoping the rain would stop soon so you could go home and study.

An hour later, the rain still poured down not showing signs that it would be done soon. It was getting late so you had no other resort but to get soaked in the rain.

You gripped your bag tightly over your chest, wanting to protect your belongings from getting soaked. Taking a deep breath, preparing yourself.

"Alright here I go!"

But before you could even plunge yourself in the rain, someone grasped your arm pulling you back. You turned around shocked, seeing Akaashi Keiji from the Volleyball team.

"You know, our finals starts tomorrow. Instead of plunging yourself in the rain, I'll just walk you home so you won't get sick."

Ever since then, Akaashi captivated your heart.

You would sneak glances at him in the corridors, his smile was contagious, you would often find it hard to hide your glee whenever he would see him smile. You never expected Akaashi would always approach you ever since that one fateful day, you would often find yourself hanging out with him in the library or even getting snacks in the cafeteria. Even you two didn't talked that much, the comfortable silence that wrapped between the both of you were something you two loved.

When your Birthday came around, he was the first person who greeted you, handing you over his present shyly.

"It's not that much but I hope you like it."

You opened his gift, revealing a knitted sweater that you have been looking for ages. You gasped, your eyes wide in happiness, looking over at Akaashi in disbelief.

Words weren't enough to thank Akaashi from his gift, you tackled him in a hug, gushing over how much you loved it. It was the first time you saw Akaashi blush.

Akaashi would often walk you home, especially on rainy days. Even if you always tell him you had already brought your own umbrella, he would still insist to walk you back home. In return, you would share your bento box with him every lunch and support him during his games. Whenever he spots you in the crowd, he would always have this soft smile plastered in his face giving you a thumbs up, it always made you melt inside.

The raven haired boy's calm presence reminded you of home, his soft expression made you believe that he was the epitome of serenity. His simple gestures– the way he would do his best to help you, care for you, and listen to your every day life made you fall in love with him deeper as the day goes by.

Fortunately he reciprocated his feelings for you.

He figured out how much you mesmerized him, may it be the way you two would agree on the weirdest things possible, how your bubbly personality would lift up his spirits, or even whenever you would always make him his favourite food after his practice were done. The smallest gestures you show how much he means to you made him believe you were meant for him.

"Here's your coffee."

You thanked Akaashi, taking the mug from his hand. He sat beside you, leaning his head over your shoulder as he gaze upon the window.

"I still remember the day we shared our first kiss, it was raining back then."

You laughed at his sudden thought. Of course, you wouldn't forget that day. You pulled Akaashi towards the heavy downpour, where you two stood in the middle of the rain. You were saying something but the loud rain made your sentence muffled. He leaned closer so he could hear you but before you could repeat your words, you were shocked how close you both were to each other. It took some time for Akaashi to figure out why you had became silent. His eyes widened seeing how your faces were centimeters apart, he could feel how cold your breath was. His daring blue eyes stared at your e/c ones, it was the first time Akaashi noticed how alluring your eyes were. You two unconsciously leaned on each other, your lips softly pressing on his. His kisses brought warmth over the cold rain over your skin.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Keiji."

You wrapped your arms around Akaashi, cuddling closer to him. You can never get tired of the familiar scent of vanilla and the warmth he radiates, it made you feel safe and sound in his arms.

He kisses your forehead softly, caressing your hair which soothes you from his gentle touch. Whispering how much he was thankful for having you in his life, it was not usual for Akaashi to talk about how much he loves you, he always let his gestures talk for him.

"I never thought you love cheesy words."

"You're the one to talk, you told me yesterday that I was a huge blessing from above."

"Shut up."

His soft laughter brought chills down to your spine, how come Akaashi was beautiful in his own way? He was perfect in your eyes that you would always have this love sick fool look whenever you stared at him. He was everything you could ask for and he wasn't wrong when you told him he was a huge blessing from above.

"You're staring like all lovey dovey again on me, y/n."

"I just love you that much."

"If you love me that much, will you marry me?"

"Huh?"

Akaashi untangles himself from you, taking a little ring out of his sleeve while he went down on one knee.

"Y/n, you are someone I want to keep and take care of for the rest of my life. I vow to love you until the day I die, would you gladly be my life and spend the rest of your life with me?"

You could feel your tears stream down from happiness, screaming yes at his face. A wide grin plastered on his face, as he gently placed the ring on your finger. A perfect fit he thought. He leaned up to kiss you full on the lips before he peppered your face with soft kisses which made you giggle.

"Rainy days would always be the best."

"Well, I did made you love the rain more ever since I came in to your life."

"Now don't get too cocky now Akaashi."

"Don't forget you'd be Akaashi soon too."

You two laughed, as Akaashi engulfed you in to a hug before he sealed the gap between the two of you.

~

The night of your wedding, you can hear the soft pour of rain down the roof. You looked at Akaashi who smiled down at you, entwining your hands as you both look at the window.

The rain reminded me of you, calm, comforting, and sometimes chaotic, but I loved it.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Shaking at the Knees

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark  Rating: Mature (M) Warnings: brief description of a car accident, deaf!Peter Summary: 

This is a different take on a soulmate type of verse. People paired together can hear their person's musical adventures, the songs in their head, the ones they're listening to when they're listening to them.

It takes Tony 21 years to finally hear a song in his head, then a few years later - the songs suddenly vanish.

Or, the one where Peter loses his hearing and confuses the fuck out of Tony Stark for ten years.

This is part one of the Thunderstruck series - you can find them all on AO3: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR 

For the longest time, Tony loved music. He can still remember his very first time hearing a vinyl record. The scratch of the record when the needle first dropped always made his ears prickle and tune in. Then, oh man – the instruments would drop, and the lyrics would start – voices like Bob Seger, AC/DC, and Led Zeppelin washed over him and he got a little lost – every single time. After a bad day at school, he could come home and put on his favorite record and just – let go.

Tony wasn’t really the most – normal kid. His above average intelligence alienated him from his peers in a way that was hard for a 10-year-old to understand. The fact that he could repurpose an engine and understand his father’s blueprints wasn’t nearly as impressive to the kids in his class – no matter how proud Tony actually felt about it. When the need to be accelerated in school happened, he figured he’d finally start to fit in a little better – but being the youngest and smartest kid wasn’t much easier.

The hardest difference to swallow, the thing that made him feel the weirdest was the fact that he hated heard from his soulmate, yet. Tony’s mother died pretty early on in his life, so his father didn’t spend much time talking about her or their soulmate connection. Tony always had music playing around him whenever he got the chance – and hadn’t really thought about the lack of background music in his mind. Thunderstruck always seemed to be playing around up there, but he also loved that song and didn’t have a singular problem playing it over and over – no matter what his father said. By the time he turned 13 and some of his classmates were already starting to pair off – the panic set in. Well, not really panic. More like – dread. What could that possibly mean – the fact that he’d never heard a peep from this person that was supposed to be fated for him? The mere thought of being defective, of not being good enough to have that person settled in – slowly invading most avenues in life. Especially the thirst music used to bring about in him.

Graduating from high school before 15 left Tony with a few choices – all of which included working in his dad’s shop. Stark Industries specialized in restoration of vintage cars, each one with custom engines, transmissions, and body work. The further Tony pulled away from others around him, the further he allowed himself to fall down the rabbit hole of being in the garage until the haze of sleep couldn’t be ignored anymore. The better his skills got, the higher the caliber of jobs Tony got access to. His father’s private garages were beautiful, stocked with the best tools, and parts galore. It also came with a silence that the main garage would never be able to manage. Over the next couple of years, he became used to silence, even seeming to flourish in it. When it came time for college, Tony figured exploring mechanical engineering was a must – but also found himself taking interest in ASL – so he pursued both. Staying in New York allowed him to work in his father’s garage while diving headfirst into all things academic.

Then, something crazy happened. A particularly long night turned early morning – one of which Tony found himself slumped against his workspace – he awoke suddenly. The blare of something that sounded like The Wheels on the Bus sounded in his head. His hands slapped to his head, the man wondering if he’d had a bit more whiskey than he meant to the night before – but the top of his mouth didn’t taste like the bottom of his shoe like it normally would. No, the sudden awakening resounded in his head, he knew the second he blinked himself awake to be coherent. What the fuck was that – he thought, sleep glazed eyes looking around the garage one more time before he sighed deeply and waited for another sound, another sign of life. When he heard the same tune a little later, he let himself smile. For the first time in all of his 21 years, he could finally hear something. He tried hard not to think about the fact that the man (he knew it was a male, he’d checked out enough asses to know) was probably not a man at all, but a young boy – one small enough to still be interested in songs that repeated ‘round’ and ‘round’ like a mantra. A small piece of him couldn’t help but feel a bit of reluctancy at the obvious age gap. On the other hand, he couldn’t stop himself from being excited by the fact that there was at least someone on the other side of the line.

Later that night, Tony fished out his favorite AC/DC record, his fingertips brushing across the cover in a solemn sort of reverie. When the music washed over him this time, after so many years of a heavy silence, Tony felt the magic again. He relaxed into it, the smoothness of the sound something he couldn’t recall missing as desperately as he felt in that moment. Settling into his favorite chair, Tony picked up his feet and let them rest on the wooden coffee table before him. Though he’d never tell, he fell asleep that night humming the soft melody of that silly children’s song.

----

One of Peter’s earliest memories is the beating of drums. Until he learned how to block it out, Peter would get so distracted by a pretty constant thump. There were words of course, but the boy was too young to recognize most of them. He understood what the thump was, though. Many times, he’d been lulled to sleep by the sound of it – the steady repetition like a lullaby. The first time Peter recognized one of the songs in his head, he’s in kindergarten. His dad always dropped him off, but that day – his mother was home from the hospital early enough to pick him up excitedly when he ran out of his room at her – the two sneaking off together a few minutes earlier than usual to share a customary pancakes and sausage at their friendly neighborhood McDonald’s. Rides with his mother were always considered special, since she worked the night shift and seemed to be the most tired right as Peter was waking up. Not only was his mom one of his favorite people, things with her were so different than they were with his dad. Peter loved them both equally – well, as equally as any five-year-old could – but he cherished the time with his mother more.

The stereo always thumped really loud whenever he was in the car with his mother. She liked different things, including music and entertainment. Growing up in the 70’s must’ve been something, if all the bands and movies she liked had anything to say about it. They’re pulling out of McDonald’s when a recognizable thump is heard. For a second, he thinks about all the different thumping beats he’d heard recently and this one matched – but it seemed like it was surrounding him, instead of playing in his head. The young boy looked around, then smiled – his mother was drumming the familiar beat on the steering wheel in her hands. “This is AC/DC, Pete,” she said around a smile, her eyes glowing in a way that only happened when she looked at Peter. “Thunderstruck is arguably one of their better songs,” his mother managed to get out before she started to sing. Peter felt his breath catch in his throat, the younger boy overcome by the music that surrounded him – that wasn’t in his head – and the depth of happiness on his mother’s face. He now had a connection to the songs and when he heard them in his head later in the evenings, he found himself singing along (all the wrong lyrics, of course) the same way his mother did – comfortably and with a small smile on his face.

The next couple of years, Peter absorbed as much of the music like the stuff he heard in his head as he could. Initially approaching his mother for more songs made him nervous. The young boy hadn’t heard much about soulmates yet, other than the fact that they existed. He didn’t yet understand that most people could hear songs in their head – that you were listening to your other half’s vocal delights. He eventually managed to stutter through an explanation, the now seven-year-old way more invested in the music now that he could hear it in his head and – well, not. After looking at him with confusion for a minute, his mother shook her head and pulled him into her arms. She kept him pressed tightly against her for a couple of moments, the woman enjoying the fact that her son still allowed her to do something like this. Despite him being so young, Peter was so very smart and growing up so damn quickly.

“Oh boy, you’re hearing things already, huh? That, my sweet boy, is your soulmate. Those songs playing in your head are that special person’s favorites – what they’re listening to right now. Here,” she said in a thick voice – her body moving before she could let herself even think. Peter could only hear a fumbling sound for a couple minutes, then his mother came back with a small square thing attached to some headphones. A thick stack of something was in her other hand. When she kneeled back in front of him, Peter could see a couple of wet streaks on her face. “Try these. If he’s a fan of AC/DC, I bet he likes these bands, too. See this,” she asked, pulling the tape out of its case, “you put this where the cassette player opens.” Peter watched avidly as she slipped the tape inside and handed the player to him. “Put those headphones on and it’ll be like you’re right there with them.” Peter looked at the player for a second before he bolted forward, his little arms wrapping around his mother’s neck tightly. “Thank you, mama,” Peter mumbled, his nose pressed into the fabric of her shirt. “Thank you.”

From that point on, Peter carried the cassette player with him wherever he went. The now well-known lyrics were a comfort that the boy couldn’t even describe. Sometimes, the music was the only thing that got him through the day. School wasn’t the easiest for him – it could be said that he got picked on pretty ruthlessly. Peter liked school and understood what the teacher was talking about way quicker than the rest of the people in his class. No matter the generation, the smart kids always kind of suffered a little bit. It didn’t matter, though – his parents were amazing, he was starting a new Lego build that evening, and his music never left him. For the most part, things weren’t too bad.

Things changed the day Peter forgot his headphones. The entire day, everything seemed to go wrong for Peter. He’d forgotten to study for the pop quiz in his math class, left his lunch on the counter and had to buy from the cafeteria – all on the day he forgot the most important part of his key to comfort. By the time he was waiting in the line to go home with the rest of the third graders, Peter felt drained, sad, and ready to curl up with his cassettes on either of his parents’ laps. Seeing his mom and his dad in the car when it was his turn momentarily changed his mood – Peter felt his face break into a smile when his mom rolled her window down and waved, her happiness contagious. He climbed into the back of the car without another thought, his smile widening when both his parents greeted him, his father’s hand coming back to squeeze at his knee. It took him a second to get buckled and then they were off – his mom explaining that she switched her shifts and they were going out to celebrate. The promise of Peter’s favorite restaurant had the young boy relaxing into the booster he still needed to sit in – though, he could buckle it himself. The next thing he knew, Peter’s eyes were blinking awake – the sound of a loud crash scaring the crap out of him. He couldn’t remember if he screamed himself, but he can still vividly remember hearing the high pitch of his mother’s voice before things went black for him again.

The next time Peter woke up, his Aunt May and Uncle Ben were by his bedside. He looked around frantically, not understanding why his parents weren’t there, too. He spoke out – and all the sudden realized he didn’t hear himself. His eyes met with May’s when he tried again, the obvious terror in her eyes adding to the panic that was quickly overwhelming him. Small hands moved up to his ears, though they never made it – his Uncle’s hands engulfing them, instead. The panic took him over completely, then. Both of the people around him were crying and he couldn’t hear a single thing. Where were his parents? And why did his head feel like it’d been cracked open? He felt the tears fall down his cheeks, though never heard the whimpers that fell from his lips as the confusing, emotional tsunami wiped him completely out. It took both May and Ben holding on to him to get him to calm down. He clung to them, so confused but needing the comfort that his other favorite people in this world could bring to him.

A while later, May sat down next to him again, this time armed with a pad of paper and a pencil. Peter didn’t understand what was happening, his body hurting and his ears still not hearing anything – it was all so overwhelming. Her soft hand had him looking up, the pad out in front of him. Learning that his parents were dead and that he’d lost his hearing from that stupid notepad seemed like the ultimate ending to what would always be the worst day of his life. He barely survived the accident that took both his parents. When the car rolled, Peter’s booster seat kept him from leaving the seat – but the force smashed his head against the window. The blackout caused by the concussion probably saved his life – if that was any consolation prize.

Two nights later, after being brought to May and Ben’s place, Peter laid in bed, tossing and turning until he finally heard the music in his head. The sadness of the collection of songs matched the situation perfectly and only then was Peter finally able to fall asleep.

----

Soon after hearing a song for the first time, Tony felt the best he could ever remember feeling. His academic studies were going well, so well in fact that he sailed through his first set of degrees and was taking an internship with a sign language interpreter. When he first brought the concept up to his father, Howard Stark looked at his son with something that he could only describe as confusion. Tony wasn’t shy about his brilliance and excelled substantially in the garage. Howard hadn’t said anything to his son yet, but he’d slowly been handing over big accounts – the youngest Stark basically equipped to take over the business, despite not being aware of that fact. Yet, Tony couldn’t help but smile at the little hint of pride his father hadn’t ever been able to conceal from him, despite his best efforts. The hours for his internship would barely interfere with his duties at the shop, so he got to take the position with his father’s blessing. For the first time in a while, Tony felt happy with himself and the relationship he was slowly cultivating with his father.

Things stayed decent for Tony for a few years. He managed to get enough field experience with sign language interpretation to get some exposure and spent a good majority of his time split between the garage and his interpreter gigs. He enjoyed the ability to get lost in the silence of the garage, then put significance to someone else’s silence through his ability to translate and be a voice. For some reason, Tony felt some unidentifiable need to pursue that path – and wouldn’t be deterred by anyone that didn’t understand his desire. He didn’t really understand it much, either. Most of his adult life, he felt compelled – compelled to do well, compelled to be able to help – hell, compelled to be the best version of himself. Since his change in consciousness happened right around the time he started to hear his music, Tony figured he could contribute at least a bit of his success to the person behind the soothing tunes. Tunes that were surprisingly starting to sound just like the music he played whenever he was by himself. Either the kid had good taste, or Tony taught him right before anything else could taint his musical perspective. Hearing the hum of Old Time Rock & Roll early in the morning wasn’t the worst way to wake up, after all.

Tony got to coast for a while, even enjoy himself a little bit. Most of his twenties were spent in the garage working on his own creations, or out in the community – doing sign language interpretation for big community events, or personal interpretation for the people that needed more of a singular touch. He appreciated both aspects of his work and spent most of his free time trying to find ways to make both worlds meet. By 27, Tony made enough money to build another addition to the Stark garage that would allow him to create, fix, and reinvent engines, parts, and whole vehicles that would slowly start to put him on the tech industry map. With the new addition came the need for new employees – and Tony knew all the best people for the job. He’d been working closely with Happy since their joint internship after graduating from college. The man didn’t know a thing about cars and their parts but could keep Tony running like no one else could. Happy spent a good majority of his life with his hearing, so he kept Tony on his toes both with his big personality and his ability to transition from ASL to speaking without much of a thought. Tony couldn’t imagine running the aspects of his shop without the other man. Bucky and Steve came along a year or so after Tony got his new garage built. They were a little older but gave Tony a run for his money in terms of their engine knowledge and ability to spend hours at a time under a car instead of with other humans. Yeah, things were going well for Tony Stark – so well, in fact, he was impatiently waiting for the other shoe to drop like it did so many other times throughout his life.

That shoe finally came dropping a couple months after his 28th birthday. For all intents and purposes, Tony was already running the Stark Industries garages. He hired a new person to manage payroll when he opened his own garage, took on a cute red headed assistant named Pepper Potts – who could sling business talk and fire all in one sentence. Tony even went as far as to start planning upgrades to the main garages to make more room for their ever-increasing stock of parts and pieces that were needed to do the job the Stark Industries way – with utmost perfection. It shouldn’t have been such a shock to him when the company officially became his. Yet, Tony found himself drifting about nonetheless. The death of his father that ultimately put the company securely and singularly in his hands hit him much harder than Tony anticipated. The last few years, Tony actually broke through his father’s shell and seemed to even earn some pride from the old man. Before he passed, Howard actually gave Tony a hug – one that he never expected and couldn’t recall often enough. He felt a little guilty that their best days spent together were some of his father’s last – but then again, he wouldn’t change that fact for anything. At least he’d been able to make something of himself before the old man passed and for that – Tony couldn’t help but feel grateful. If he was going to spend the rest of his life as an orphan, at least he knew that someone had been proud of him – even if that someone wasn’t around anymore.

The first few months after his father’s death were rough. Tony wasn’t used to not being able to sequester himself away in his garage and resented the change. The resentment started to seep into his performance and before long, Pepper was pulling him aside – her eyes trying to portray gentleness, regardless of the fact that the situation now called for a little bit of a reality check. “You look like shit, Tony – and everyone is noticing,” she started, her arms crossing over her chest to assume a more defensive stance. “You’ve got to get your shit together. Or at least pretend.” Tony knew the woman was only trying to help – that Pepper was one of the only people keeping him and the business running. Stark Industries needed him to not only be the genius behind all of the masterful art they created with cars, but the face of the company as well. He wanted the silence back – even if just for a minute. The silence always left him to his will, never interrupted or expected. He could be himself with the silence. That didn’t matter, though. His father’s legacy demanded his attention and Tony Stark would never not rise to a challenge presented his way. “You’re right, Pep. Sorry, babe,” he replied with a painted-on smirk, the corner of his lips coming nowhere close to his eyes. “I’ll be better. Pinky swear.”

Then – things got a little worse. After attempting to get his shit together, Tony finally had things figured out enough to delegate tasks, attend meetings, and still spend most of his time in the garage. Between Happy and Pep, Tony got all the things he needed and could still claim to be running a successful business. Tony still craved the silence – the beauty of being by himself and the simplicity of the times when he didn’t have to answer to anyone. It wasn’t coming back, he reminded himself – he worked his ass off to get to this level of success. Yet, he couldn’t help but yearn.

And then – the silence came back.

Not the silence of a private garage like he wanted. Not the silence of getting to spend forty-eight hours up to his elbows in engine grease. No, the silence that haunted him as a child – the absence of sound in the back of his mind – that returned with a vengeance. One day, he was jamming along to Stairway to Heaven in the back of his mind and the next – the next, it was all gone. This time, the sound felt like an input cable had been torn from the player – the absence of sound so deafening – so final. Tony couldn’t understand it. There’d been so much life on the other end not even twelve hours before the total silence. He could even feel the joy radiating on the other end – though, Tony didn’t know if that was real or his own personal projection of feeling. Now, there was nothing. That sent a bone-tingling chill across the surface of Tony’s skin. He still didn’t know much about this soulmate connection of his – he’d never really understood it. Yet, he knew enough to know that having sound, then losing sound – well, that couldn’t be a good thing. Tony couldn’t imagine the possibilities, couldn’t understand the implications of something like this. He just lost his father – now he had to deal with losing this person, too? Not only did he not know what happened to the poor kid, he didn’t have the distraction of his sounds, either. The classic rock and small amounts of current pop was one of the things Tony always looked forward to relaxing into. He got through meetings thinking about what song would pop up next, or what mood his person would be in depending on the type of sound coming down the connection. Without it, what the hell was he supposed to do? The thought of going back to how things were before he heard the fucking wheels on the bus – he couldn’t fucking stand it.

A couple days later, when nothing came back across the connection, Tony finally let himself wallow. His favorite whiskey, which he usually savored for all that it was, remained clenched in his fist throughout the first couple hours of his self-pity. Tears fell as he pulled from the bottle, each tug sending a warmth through him he never really thought he’d be able to feel again. Little by little, he let the tears fall and all of the terrible feelings get lost in the bottle that was frankly starting to get a little too empty for Tony’s taste. The drunker he got; the more Tony felt his heart break at the absence of sound in his head – so he tried to make up for it. All of his favorite records were lined up behind his vinyl player, Tony indulging in them whenever he got the chance. Instead of pulling AC/DC towards him, Tony flipped through the rest of his collection until he found the perfect mood music. The sound of Ann Peebles and I Can’t Stand the Rain washed over the room and Tony felt himself sigh. The sound was reassuring, even if it didn’t resonate from the back of his mind like it usually did – he let himself drown in it, get lost in the lyrics and the soothing sound of Ann’s voice while she sang about sweet memories and sounds she can’t stand. The perfect harmony to the misery that Tony couldn’t and wouldn’t pull himself out of for a long time.

----

The first year or so after losing his hearing, Peter struggled. At first, the death of his parents overwhelmed him. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were great – they truly were. They were so supportive and without them, he wouldn’t have survived. The custody ruling went pretty smoothly since May and Ben were already named his guardians, anyway. Though he’d been staying with them since after the accident, Peter officially moved into a room when it became apparent that their place was now his place – that home wasn’t the two-story with a pool he’d shared with his parents anymore. May and Ben lived in an apartment in Queens – the place very small but roomy enough to not make it feel like they were living on top of each other. Little by little, Peter found a way to make himself comfortable in the little bubble of the room they put together for him. Sure, they’d decorated in a similar nature to his room back home and he appreciated that. He found comfort in the small picture of him and his parents that sat right next to his bed so he could look at it when he jumped awake panicked after a crazy nightmare that ended with the same crash and scream every single time. They were trying to make their place a home for him and he loved them for it – but there were things missing and his little heart couldn’t put forth anymore energy to pretend, even if that meant making his aunt and uncle feel just a little bit better with the situation. The only thing that provided him real comfort, even if he couldn’t actually hear the music, was the cassette player his mom gave him what felt like so long ago.

The transition from being a completely hearing child to not being able to hear and communicate brought Peter way down. May and Ben allowed him a couple of weeks to heal before they started to demand things from him. First, it was appointments with a hearing specialist. Then, when they found out his hearing was not only gone, but gone for good, Peter went for ASL lessons on a daily basis. Because he wasn’t in any shape to actually attend a public school, Ben took to teaching things to Peter. It wasn’t well known that Ben was one of the smarter people in the world. The mediocre job Ben held at Stark Industries didn’t do justice to the amount of talent and initiative the man possessed – but he enjoyed getting to spend time with his wife and Peter, so he settled. Peter found himself slightly surprised by the fact that his uncle was that damn intelligent, the small boy not really paying attention to things like that before the accident. Now, though – Peter never felt more grateful for his uncle’s hidden talents. The man was intelligent in all ways, too. Whether it was book knowledge, or hands on knowledge, Ben had an example and explanation for everything. Once the bridge of learning how to communicate was crossed, Peter found himself slowly starting to recover – in all the ways a small child of trauma needed to. He mastered ASL a lot quicker than anyone suspected, much to the relief of both May and Ben – and when they figured he was ready, Peter was enrolled in Midtown School for the Deaf.

Slowly, Peter started to make his way back towards the happy kid he’d been for such a long time. At the ripe age of 12, Peter started to work in the garage with his uncle. Their daily lessons didn’t stop after he started attending his new school, either. In fact, Peter would bring home loads of interesting topics that they would delve further into. They would talk with rapid fire hand movements, Peter working on his signing and learning more about all the things that he thought were so very interesting. They would pass tools back and forth silently, Peter becoming more and more familiar with the parts and pieces the longer they spent in the garage together. Ben took to having Peter around as a son the same way May took to protecting the boy. Between the two of them, Peter knew everything he needed to and then some. He worked on his lip reading with May while they watched Gilmore Girls with the closed captioning – and learned lots of things about soulmates and love and happy endings from her, too. In the days after his recovery, Peter worried he wouldn’t be able to hear the songs anymore, simply because he couldn’t hear at all. The days passed, though – and not much happened. The songs would occasionally get very somber and emotional, but Peter appreciated them all the same. The company those songs provided was something the boy desperately needed and couldn’t see getting from anyone else. May and Ben were so good to him, so involved in all the parts in his life that needed to change drastically – but they didn’t quite know. There wasn’t a way to describe what losing his hearing was like. There probably weren’t enough words to get across the intensity of the loss. The music, though – even if he didn’t know who was on the other side of the line, the music made it seem like things were normal. Hearing those songs, even as randomly as they’d appear, they made Peter feel like he could hear again.

So, Peter clung to all of the things that were familiar to him. His daily garage hangouts with Uncle Ben had him working his way around all the parts and pieces of their ’65 Mustang so easily. He felt so familiar with it, Peter figured he could put the engine back together with his eyes closed. That passion only seemed to grow the longer he spent learning his way around and getting his hands dirty. Ben, in his never-ending quest to teach Peter everything he possibly could, started to take him to the Stark Industries garages. He didn’t work the grandest of jobs there, but the garage he could access had plenty of tools and spare parts – all a little different than the ones they’d been using in the garage. Like a fly to honey, Peter absorbed as much as he could about everything thrown his way. His fingers knew their way around a manual transmission, the young boy able to change it out in a way that was both quick and efficient. The job didn’t take much communication with others and allowed Peter to get lost in what he was doing – lost in the knowledge of how the parts worked by themselves and how to put them together to make the most out of their functions as a whole. Peter understood so much about the different types of engines and was even able to make corrections that made the part work a little better. A part of Peter hoped that Mr. Stark would see him and realize that he was worth offering an internship position to. Ben mentioned it every time they walked into the garage, so many times in fact – Peter felt a bit of hope bloom in his chest. In all the time Peter got to hang around in the Stark garages, he’d never seen the illustrious man.

To fill the void between trips to Stark Industry, Peter made friends with one of the workers at the junk yard not too far from his home. For whatever reason, Ned took him under his wing and let him peruse the huge piles of car parts that were always sitting around. Peter would muddle through conversations with him as he cleaned the parts off to put them in his backpack to take home. After a while, Peter stopped by the yard not only to grab the parts, but work on them there, too. It seemed like, for the first time in probably his entire life, Peter Parker made a friend. A guy that wasn’t much older than him that was slowly learning his way through sign language and dreaming of being a computer genius – a guy that didn’t judge Peter for something he couldn’t really help. Peter appreciated the guy and wasn’t afraid to crack a joke or tell him about things he never thought to tell anyone else. Slowly but surely, Peter was growing into himself – something he didn’t think would happen so easily or without him really noticing.

By the time he turned 16, Peter was finally finished with his completely rebuilt car and ready to actually be able to drive it. Ben let him drive all the time after they finished up at SI’s garage or home from school when Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to make the bus on time. Yet, he hadn’t been able to drive his own car yet – Ben insisting the first time should be when he officially had his license in his back pocket. When the day finally came around, Peter started up the Charger, his eyes closing as he sat in the seat, the vibrations running through his chest making his heart pound. The only time he got this type of feeling, classic rock songs were floating in the back of his subconsciousness. He let the engine run for a while longer, the purring vibration an addicting feeling now that he’d gotten used to it. It didn’t hurt that he’d managed to create that vibration – that every single piece of the car he compiled together with his own two hands – from rusty frame to the freshly painted outer body. Opening his eyes after a few minutes, Peter glanced at the clock and put the car in reverse – he’d need to go a little faster on the highway to get to the garage before his Uncle Ben got off work (which, he couldn’t honestly complain about, if he were being honest). With a rumble, Peter put the car in gear and started towards Stark Industries.

What happened next would forever be something that changed his life – Peter not really understanding the entire extent of it until much, much later.

Upon pulling up to the garage, Peter beamed when all of Ben’s coworkers walked out to check out the car. He parked quickly, then hopped out to pop the hood – his smile growing at the thought of showing off all his hard work. The customized engine allowed for better gas mileage and the configured transmission changed gears so fluidly that its lifespan was a few years longer than a normal transmission. He felt pride in his craftmanship as the men took in all the work, some of them not even understanding what the heck he was saying and signing as Peter explained all the different things he did putting the car together. His uncle patted him on the shoulder a little while into his explanation, the man’s smile almost as big as Peter’s own. The squeeze that came next told him his uncle was proud, and the punch to his opposite shoulder told him Ben was so excited to see all the work he did for himself, too. Peter smiled at the man, then went back to watching all of the people he’d grown up around ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ at the work he did – at the machine he put together and all the things he managed to accomplish while doing it. All of a sudden, people stopped what they were doing and turned to look in the direction behind Peter – even Ben seemed to stand at attention. Slowly, Peter turned around and smiled – his obvious naivety not recognizing the man standing in front of him. No one said anything, Peter could tell through the close eye he kept on the people around him. A little bit confused, Peter shifted until he could see Ben, his hands moving quickly to ask what the heck was going on. His uncle didn’t reply, his eyes bulging a little further in response instead. He followed the path of Ben’s eyes until once again, they were staring in the direction of the man now standing a little bit closer to Peter than just moments before.

Peter finally turned his full attention to the man behind him – the older guy so shockingly handsome, it was a little bit distracting. His goatee was neatly trimmed, the hair on his head a dark brown – the locks a little on the longer side and done in a way that made it look like the perfect sort of roll out of bed messy. His dark eyes were looking directly at Peter and it took him a moment to realize that the man was moving his hands – the signs flowing seamlessly from him – as if ASL was as natural to him as it was to Peter. Dumbfounded, Peter smiled and signed back “You took me by surprise. I didn’t see what you said, can you repeat it?” He felt his smile grow when the other man nodded, the fingers of his right dropping to tap on his own chest – gesturing to himself. “I’m Tony Stark – they all probably stopped because I haven’t been in this garage in years. It’s nice to meet you.” Tony’s lips moved at the same pace as his hands, the man obviously familiar with both ASL and spoken language. When he was through signing, Tony held out a hand between them – a smirk on his lips. Peter took it quickly – the spark zinging between them making his heart race in a way that he didn’t quite understand. He clenched his hand for a second, the pulse in his palm so fucking distracting. “I’m Peter – and holy shit – you’re Tony Stark. I love this garage, Sir. You have the best equipment,” Peter signed back, his voice already overworked from all the talking he’d done earlier. A part of him wanted to see how good Tony’s signing was, too – but no one needed to know that.

The older man smiled, a hand going to cover his heart in a gesture of thanks. “Thanks, kid – you haven’t even seen some of the coolest stuff.” He stopped then pointing over Peter’s shoulder. “That looks like someone rebuilt that from the ground up. Was that you?” Tony signed excitedly, a weird look of excitement and passion flashing across the older man’s eyes. The look was intoxicating, drawing Peter in without a second thought. This guy looked like he was about to drool over the work that he’d done – what kind of dream was he in right now? This opportunity probably wouldn’t come around again, so he jumped on the chance. Peter moved to stand by the hood – his hands moving quickly as he too started to excitedly describe the modifications he made and the process he used to put the engine back together. He almost forgot that many people were around them watching this exchange – watching, for the first time in most of their careers, Tony Stark use sign language to have an over-excited conversation – probably the first time they’d genuinely seen Tony Stark in the flesh, honestly. The same squeeze of his uncle’s hand brought Peter back from his ramble – a blush slipping over his cheeks the instant he realized he’d gone off – the exhilaration of it all something so overwhelming, he didn’t really understand it. “Sorry,” he signed, his shoulders shrugging as he did. “I got a little carried away. It’s pretty cool, though, right?”

The exchange didn’t last much longer after that. Tony complimented his craftmanship, shook his hand again, then shot him a smirk before turning away and catching up with the guy Peter knew to be Happy standing over by the front door. The entire drive home, Peter caught himself smiling at the memory of the interaction and the reverberation of the song playing in the back of his mind over and over again. The person on the other side of the line must’ve been pretty happy if the repeat of Faithfully had anything to say about it.

Later that night, while listening to the song in the back of his mind, Peter let himself get lost in the music, then right before he fell asleep – he finally let himself think about Tony. The smirk on the older man’s face burned into his memory.

----  

To say that Tony felt a little off his game the first time he interacted with Peter Parker would’ve been a total understatement. When Happy told him a crowd was gathered around a good looking car, Tony couldn’t help himself. There weren’t a lot of cars many of the people around the garage hadn’t seen, so something that brought about such a reaction had to be worth his time. Especially since they worked with luxury cars on a daily basis – this vehicle had to be interesting, maybe interesting enough to give Tony something to be excited over. Striding out of the building after a silent conversation with Happy, Tony took the walk through a couple different garages to get to the front of the building. He watched from the window of the waiting room for a couple minutes, looking around until he found the person in the middle of the commotion. Or, he supposed he should call the guy a kid – the young person no older than 16 or 17 at the maximum. His eyes beamed with a brightness Tony couldn’t recall ever seeing, and his smile took up his entire face. Round cheeks were stained with a red that probably painted them whenever the kid was happy, or sad, or embarrassed – and for a second, he wondered how far down the color actually went. Shaking his head of the stupidly inappropriate thought, Tony finally pushed his way out of the building. It was only when he got a little closer that he recognized the kid’s movements, his fingers forming signs flawlessly, perfect red lips were moving, but not often making complete sounds – like his lips moving was secondary to the fluid nature of his hands. That sight made his gut clench, a soft smile pulling across his lips before he could will it away. For whatever reason, he instantly felt a connection to the kid.

It didn’t take long for everyone gathered around the admittedly impressive car to turn and look at him, his entry into the space not nearly as smooth as he hoped it might be. Funnily enough, the kid was the last one to turn around, the same shy smile on his lips still firmly there, cheeks still cherry red with whatever emotion that seemed to be coursing through him. Tony watched with interest as the kid turned towards someone, his hands rapid fire signing – the man he was talking to obviously comfortable with this sort of exchange. When it was obvious there wasn’t going to be an answer, Tony couldn’t help the smile that slipped across his own face when the kid turned back his way – a curious look in his eye. Deciding at that moment to take this into his own hands, Tony started to sign, the words coming out of his mouth at the same rate he could make his body move through the signs. The look on the kid’s – Peter’s – face made his heart pound for a moment, the obvious surprise something that shouldn’t look as cute as it did. The closer he got to the other, the more of the car he could see and man – it was fucking impressive! The engine rebuild look flawless and he could already see the function of some of the obvious additions to the transmission. The kid had talent – an eye for this sort of thing, even. Something told him Peter did all of the work for himself, too. The kid obviously smart, obviously passionate about this sort of thing – his eyes on fire the entire time he talked about it. The whole thing was intoxicating to Tony, totally overwhelming in a way that Tony didn’t think he’d ever experienced. In all of his 37 years of life, he’d never felt a spark of connection the way he did with Peter – whatever the hell that meant.

After a quick exit and promise to himself to learn more about the kid, Tony got behind the wheel of his Audi – the itch to listen to music heavy the second he got into the seat. Happy shot him an odd look for a second, then smiled with a shrug – Tony listening to music was a rare and magic thing these days, so who the fuck was he to ruin it? Instead of saying anything, Happy let Tony fuck around with his phone – Tony’s fingers flying over the keys in search of one of his all-time favorite songs. Faithfully started over the speaker system and for the first time in a really long time, Tony let it wash over him. Since losing the song in his head, music didn’t hold the same place in his heart the way it used to. He couldn’t get through his time in the garage without it – the company of AC/DC something he’d gotten too used to over the years. Yet, he hadn’t let himself connect with anything since Ann Peebles soothed him to sleep almost ten years ago. It didn’t feel right, enjoying something the way he once did – feeling any sort of connection with sound when the person on the other side of his connection didn’t or couldn’t anymore. The resonating feeling Tony felt after his interaction with Peter, though – that felt like something to celebrate with some of his favorite tunes. He didn’t think too hard on that fact, simply allowed it to happen.

Getting back to the garage a few hours later, Tony went right to the computer and started to do some research. Finding Peter’s connection to SI wasn’t very hard – a simple search of his last name pulled up the name Ben Parker. He’d been working in the same garage for the past ten years and seemed to be pretty efficient in his work – and very invested in Peter – if the visitors log had anything to say about that. One Peter Parker started visiting the garage a whopping four years ago and Tony never even noticed. Of course, he didn’t spend much time thinking about anything other than his own work and the stupid schedule Pep put together for him. It seemed that the narrow focus he liked to have kept him from discovering this kid’s talent a lot earlier. A few runs through some of the recent security footage showed an incredibly talented Peter Parker doing a lot of the work under the hood or on the bench with one of the parts – taking it apart, then putting it seamlessly back together with hands of an expert, not those of a 16-year-old boy. In that instant, Tony knew he needed to do something for this kid – especially if his talent was to truly be believed. He could use someone with a mind not far from his own to help around the garage – to work with some of the more delicate parts that Tony wouldn’t trust to just anyone. With that decided, Tony made a few phone calls, getting the clearance from Pepper before calling the Parker residence to extend an internship to Peter Parker with his very own garage manager Steve Rogers.

Over the years, Tony taught most of the people on his staff at least a few signs so they could talk easily with Happy – and hoped he’d done enough to make Peter feel safe in the family that he created over the years of misfit mechanics and weirdos like himself. For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Tony felt compelled to take care of Peter Parker. Maybe it was the kid’s brilliance, or maybe it was the obvious talent that radiated off of him – whatever it was, Tony knew Peter was going to be special. If he could have a part in that, well – there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop him.

----

The next time Peter went into Stark Industries, he picked up his very own employee badge. Though he’d been in the garage for years, he never thought he’d get the opportunity to actually work in THE GARAGE. He hoped, silently, that someone would see his potential and scoop it up. In his wildest dreams, he never truly thought it’d be Tony Stark. His first day in the garage turned into the ultimate adventure. Being in the garage his uncle worked in, Peter saw lots of cool stuff. Walking into Tony’s garage, that was like walking into a completely different world. There were lifts he’d never seen before and a 3D printer in the corner that probably did a lot of their mockups. The tools were shiny and the sheer quantity of them made his mouth water. Peter spent time in a junk yard and still hadn’t seen that many things at his disposal. Getting the hang of communicating with Mr. Rogers was a little frustrating – the man going back and forth between talking to loud at him and muddling through signs – but at the end of the day, Peter knew his way around under the hood and didn’t need much direction. With all of these parts and pieces at his fingertips, Peter couldn’t wait to explore and experiment. The transmission in his own vehicle ran so much better than what they put into Uncle Ben’s and if he could adjust it to be universal, well – he could probably save people a lot of money.

Peter settled into his position pretty easily – his ability to work hard and think quick on his feet a cherished thing around the garage. Steve, or Cap, as people so fondly liked to call him, found a way to bridge the communication gap and became one of Peter’s biggest fans. While Cap had an abundance of hands-on experience, Peter had a mind made for solving puzzles and making pieces fit together in the best possible way. During their first engine rebuild, Steve didn’t have the right pieces, and instead of putting the job on pause – Peter hand crafted the piece himself, a smile on his face the entire time he puzzled together the singular pieces into the perfect part. In the matter of a couple hours, Peter won Cap over – and immediately had a great ally on his side. The hands-on things Peter didn’t know or understand, Cap taught him in the best way that he could. Like his Uncle Ben, Peter understood the other man in a way that not a lot of people did. It seemed to Peter that Bucky and Mr. Stark were the only ones that could really crack the older man’s shell. Now, he got to count himself a part of that illustrious group, too.

Working in the garage not only gave him access to the best materials, but the best mind in the car business, too. Tony didn’t spend a lot of time in Peter’s part of the garage – when he did, though, he worked closely with him. Tony always seemed to have a new project for the two of them to work on together, the older man so encouraging in the way he gave advice or taught something that not even Cap really understood or knew how to do. Peter found himself drawn to the older man in lots of ways, many that were probably too inappropriate to really think about – yet, he couldn’t help himself. For the first time in his life, Peter felt a sort of comfortability with another person that he couldn’t even claim to have with Ben or May. Tony’s grasp on ASL and inherent need to be helpful let Peter talk about whatever he wanted and ask all the questions his mind could come up with. His time spent with Tony taught him so much about his passion, the man’s knowledge of cars and the garage environment really was valuable, but his view on life and thoughts about whatever stupid shit came to his head were also so important to Peter. The boy felt like himself around the man and craved the connection between them whenever they weren’t together. He thought for a while that hero worship played a part in the way he felt. Peter did look up to the man for most of his life, after all. Yet, when he thought about the particular feeling that he hadn’t been able to chase away, it didn’t start until Tony started to open up to him – until the older man truly attempted to get to know Peter a little more.

The day of Peter’s 18th birthday stood out in his memory as THE turning point in their relationship. They were working on a new engine design, both gathered around the big computer in Tony’s home lab. They’d been meeting at Tony’s place for a while by then. The first time happened by accident. Elbow deep in grease, Steve suddenly remembered that he left an important receipt for one of the parts on Tony’s counter earlier that day and didn’t have time to get it – so Peter was sent on the errand. The property Tony built his house on felt so grand, Peter pulled into a driveway that reminded him of those fancy roundabouts in front of castles. Yet, it was delicately understated all at the same time. There weren’t huge marble statues or ostentatious lawn ornaments – simply a huge house flanked by a garage that could probably rival what they worked in back at SI. He looked at it with awe for a couple minutes before he decided to break his solitude. He took one more deep breath and enjoyed the vibration of the engine beneath him for another second, then turned the car off. It didn’t surprise Peter a single bit when he spotted Tony leaned against the doorframe of his front door, arms crossed in what he now knew to be what the older man considered to be his most relaxed pose. A soft smile pulled at the other man’s lips, the depth of the smile pulling the cute little lines at the corner of Tony’s eyes to the forefront. Peter returned the look without thought, his hand raising in greeting. Peter forced himself to take another deep breath – the roaring crush he had on the older man decided to peak its head out at the worst possible times. He thought he’d gotten the damn thing under control – but who the fuck was he kidding? A simple smile from the older man made his heart beat hard against his chest, the heat gathering from the force of it dripping into his stomach until he could hardly bare it – his focus completely shot the second he let the feeling overwhelm him. Standing in the man’s driveway was not the place to feel the steady thrum of familiar heat – so he quickly took the stairs to the front door. Tony placed a hand on the small of his back and suddenly the heat took off on its own – fire overtaking every inch of him. After that visit, Tony’s place became a little bit of a sanctuary for Peter, a place he could not only enjoy his time with Tony – but also a place he could give himself just the slightest bit of hope.

The invite to Tony’s place on his birthday didn’t surprise him – the man hosted parties for all his close friends and coworkers at the gorgeous house all the time. The fact that they snuck away from all the people gathered to head to the garage wasn’t all that off the charts, either. Peter spent as much, if not more time in the garage than Tony did – and when they were together, the time seemed to slip away – like nothing else existed but him, Tony, and whatever part they were working on. This time wasn’t any different, either. They were finally able to get his transmission modification generalized and the hope of all three of the cars they’d been working on performing was the final leg to their research. When all three of them struck and managed to switch gears simultaneously, Peter pumped both fists in the air – his excitement crackling in the air around him. He felt Tony wrap an arm around him and tap his shoulder three times – their little silent signal of praise. Despite Tony being able to communicate with him perfectly, Tony still seemed to prefer silence in the garage – especially when Peter was around. They would sign here and there, but there wasn’t a lot of exchange throughout their time together – a thought that at first freaked Peter out, then after some thought fit him just fine. All his life, people expected him to find a way to receive things from them and return the signal their way. Tony didn’t pressure and respected whatever mode of communication Peter felt willing to give and in return, the younger man did the same. The touch lingered for another couple of seconds before Tony pulled away and started walking across the garage. The man had a huge smile on his face when he turned to face Peter again, his hands moving for the first time in a while “This seems like the perfect time for some of the classics,” Tony signed, his hands moving restlessly as he then walked over to a glass cabinet Peter never really paid attention to. With the door open, Peter could see the collection of what he knew to be vinyl – his uncle’s own collection pretty impressive, especially if you asked the man himself. Peter hadn’t ‘listened’ to music since he lost his hearing – but he could remember the sound of all his soulmate’s favorites – the songs way more consistent now than they’d ever been. He wandered over towards the older man, his eyes wide when he saw the cover art for his favorite AC/DC album. “I haven’t heard this album since I lost my hearing,” Peter found himself signing, the boy not mentioning the fact that hearing in his head and hearing with his ears were too totally different things. “I love their stuff. Really miss it, actually.” Peter smiled with his last sign, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Tony didn’t miss a beat – the next second, Peter found his hand being pressed against the speaker. The point of contact between them felt so warm – that all too familiar zing between them settling itself on the surface of Peter’s skin. For a second, he didn’t even think to look towards Tony, Peter’s eyes drooping instead so he could take in the way it felt – to be touched by the very person he craved so badly. When he eventually looked up, Tony was watching him closely, the older man’s gaze a mixture of things Peter didn’t really know how to name. He kept his hand there a second longer, then Tony pulled back and started to sign “Close your eyes and feel the beat. It’s like when you sit down in the car and start it up for the first time – that vibration. Get lost in that heavy thump – I bet it’s almost like hearing it again.” When Tony finished, Peter nodded and closed his eyes. He could immediately feel the vibration Tony was talking about and let the feeling of it pass through his chest. The steady beat changed, picking up a little the closer the song got to the chorus. All of the sudden – Peter could hear the tell-tale sound of Thunderstruck in the back of his head – a soft smile already pulling across his lips, this was one of his soulmate’s favorites. Then, like he was back in his mom’s car all those years ago, Peter felt the song surround him, only this time – it was in his head and below his hand, the drum beat of the song unmistakable now that he was really focusing. What the actual fuck – Peter thought to himself, his eyes flashing open. Quickly, he pushed against Tony’s shoulder – the man halfway through an air guitar riff – the touch eventually getting his attention. “What song are we listening to, Tony?” Peter signed, his sign for Tony emphasized. Tony tilted his head, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Thunderstruck, Pete. One of my all-time favorites,” Tony signed back, his eyes closing again as the powerful ending to the song crept closer.

It took Peter the rest of the song to put the whole thing together. After a considerably long time in the garage together, a delirious Tony told Peter that he couldn’t hear his soulmate anymore. The information came out of the blue – though Peter learned over his time spent with the man that many things were fighting for dominance in the man’s head and he didn’t always have control of what came out. While he told the story, Peter felt his heart breaking ever so slightly – a part of him hoping that maybe – well, that didn’t matter. Watching the person he’d come to love more than anyone in the world break down over something so gut wrenching was absolutely terrible. The man told him how long he waited to hear from that person at the beginning of life, then Peter listened while Tony told him how long ten years felt without the songs he’d come to really count on. The worst part was the sudden nature of it, or so Tony said, anyway. He didn’t know what happened to his person, but he felt a loneliness that most people probably couldn’t understand. Peter couldn’t say anything, so he didn’t – he simply wrapped the man in his arms and pulled him close. If nothing else, Peter understood the silence – the overwhelming need to hear something – anything again.

The suddenness of realizing that Tony stopped hearing his soulmate because his soulmate lost their hearing kept him motionless – the boy still long enough for Tony to look at him weirdly, the older man’s hand coming out to shake his shoulder slightly, even. “You alright, Pete?” Tony said, both his hands and mouth moving this time around – worry evident in his facial expression. Peter nodded, but still felt a little overwhelmed – this realization huge and still entirely too one-sided. “Tony, when did you stop hearing from your soulmate?” Peter signed frantically – his fingers moving fast enough for the signs to seemingly blur together. Tony’s face dropped slightly, his shoulders slumping just from mentioning the situation. It looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but then his raised his hands and signed “ten years.” The look on his face made Peter’s stomach clench despite what Peter now knew. “My soulmates favorite song is Thunderstruck. I’ve been listening to it since I was a child, Tony. That drumbeat – I’ve been listening to it in my head since I can remember,” Peter spoke this time, his voice a little rusty from a lack of use. “I lost my hearing ten years ago. Fuck – Tony, you didn’t lose your soulmate. I – I… just haven’t been able to listen to music – I haven’t had a song in my head in ten years.”

----  

Tony could feel the kid’s eyes on him – the sheer magnitude of Peter speaking to him not getting lost in all the mess of translation. His heart thumped incessantly against his ribcage – the sheer force of it making him feel like it might beat right out of his chest. A part of Tony knew – knew that for whatever reason, Peter was put in his path and belonged there. He didn’t quite understand the way he belonged there for a long time. At first, Tony felt like a mentor, like he could share his knowledge with the kid and help make him better than even Tony could hope for himself. Peter was young and impressionable and Tony felt like he could do some good – he had a lot to offer to someone that could keep up with him. Subtly, that feeling started to change. The more time they spent together, the closer Tony drifted. Peter provided a sort of comfort and excitement that was unnamable and indescribable. Being an almost 40-year-old man feeling butterflies in his stomach for the first time seemed silly, but Tony didn’t think he could name them as anything else. Between his brilliance and ability to pull a laugh from the older man at the drop of a hat, Tony was hooked – and honestly didn’t feel all that bad about it. The realization, thankfully, didn’t come until Peter was almost 18 so Tony didn’t have to feel like he groomed the kid. The natural order of things was slowly starting to work itself out, despite Tony not understanding it completely.

So, Peter’s words weren’t the biggest surprise. Especially after he felt the vibration of the music run through him after he pulled away from Peter. The second the kid’s eyes closed, and he started to feel the music, Tony felt the same sensation – the realization of what that meant something he didn’t want to even think about. What if that wasn’t the case? What if Peter didn’t have a fucking clue what Tony was even talking about? Peter was way too important to the ins and outs of Tony’s everyday life and he would never risk that by making a grand assumption – or scaring the shit out of a young man that could have any person on the planet, regardless of the soulmate situation. But – Peter took the entire ordeal out of his hands and figured it out first. The kid really was much smarter than Tony and not for the first time, he felt so insanely grateful for that fact. He took a second to collect himself, his entire body so overcome that he felt like he might actually faint right then and there. Only after blinking the little black dots from his eyes did Tony even think to reply – his eyes already watery from the stupidly huge magnitude of emotions smacking him in the face. Waiting 39 years for this moment made it feel monumental – yet, the fact that Peter ended up being the one for him – it all sort of made sense, made all of the pieces finally fit together. For someone that spent his entire life putting shit back together, it took him a long time to add himself to that category. It was worth the wait, though – how could the beautiful man in front of him being anything else?

“I didn’t – I mean, I never thought to ask anyone about it. I didn’t know that was a thing and when I met you, our connection seemed so natural that I didn’t question it. Not even a little bit.” Tony said, his lips and fingers moving while the words spilled from him – his eyes still threatening to drip tears the entire time. “This is happening, right?” Tony’s smile was sheepish, but the question so legitimate. The wait for something like this seemed like forever and it felt a little like too good to be true – but also perfect all at the same time. Peter didn’t bother to answer, the younger man’s arms moved to pull him close, instead – their proximity making Tony feel so fucking weak. The perfection of their closeness made him feel a little crazy and his previous question all of the sudden felt silly. This – the connection between them now that they were pressed together so tightly, it felt right. “You’re my soulmate, Pete. Holy fuck,” Tony signed quickly before his hands became otherwise occupied. Both of Tony’s calloused palms cupped Peter’s cheeks, his long fingers found their way into the scruff of hair he could reach on the other. Then, only after Peter looked up and their gazes connected – Tony finally closed the distance between them, his lips sealing over the younger man’s in the most perfect first kiss. His eyes slipped closed and for the first time in his entire life, Tony forgot everything but the feeling of Peter pressed against him and the wet heat of their lips slipping against each other’s.

The kiss lasted until they were both pulling away gasping, Tony’s chest heaving from the lack of oxygen. The pressure on his chest reminded him it was real, though – the flush of his cheeks and the hard hit of his heart in his ears kept him level and in the moment. The moment in which Tony finally found the person on the other side of the line. He kept the grip on Peter’s cheeks for another moment, using it to press their lips together another couple of times before pulling back – needing the use of his hands. “I love you, Peter Parker. Something always told me never to give up, and when you came into my life – the something was so loud. I’m so glad it’s you, Pete.” Slowly, he rubbed across his heart, then finger spelt Peter’s name – the older man changing the sign for Peter right there in front of his eyes. “Mine,” Tony mumbled, his free hand holding both of Peter’s tight.

Peter pulled his hands away and Tony looked up, confusion etched into his brow for a moment, then a smile drifted across his lips when Peter caressed his cheek, a small thumb running across his lips teasingly. “I love you too, Tony. My whole life, I’ve loved you.” Peter said the words, his hands occupying themselves in the depth of the hair on the back of Tony’s head – the younger man’s slimness pressing against him ever so slightly. “I’m glad it was you, too.” The last words were spoken against Tony’s lips, the remnants of them stolen by the kiss that followed shortly after.