#doesn’t help that almost all of the collages my phone seems to make have him in them

[goochcrucible]

I always get the desire to post a picture of my ex because he was adorable. Of course, I never will out of respect for him but it’s like people taking their dogs out everywhere with them because they love them so much and just want to share with the world

[michelle-is-writing]

Tommy’s Sister, Nikki Sixx

Request: Can you do a tommy lee where his baby sister is graduating from collage and she's up st her house unexpected with his bandmates and he catches a dude seeking out of her room and come to find out her and the dude has be sleeping together.

Word Count: 1.4k~

Tommy has always been a protective older brother, despite only being ten months older than me. Still, when he’s around, Tommy makes sure that no guy has even the smallest opportunity to say something to me, much less hit on me. He shuts every guy down quickly, but over the years, I’ve grown more annoyed as the things I used to find funny now seem overbearing and embarrassing.

However, what Tommy doesn’t realize is the one guy he has failed to shut down is his own bandmate, Nikki. This is mostly due to Nikki turning any guy away from me like Tommy does, leading to Tommy thinking he’s picked up the older brother attitude as well, but no - not by a long shot.

Currently, Tommy still has no idea about mine and Nikki’s relationship, and with us going on over a year now, we have to figure out how to tell him soon. Our relationship started right when Tommy brought Nikki over to our parents’ house for dinner one night and I happened to have some free time away from my college classes. Nikki and I could almost read each other’s minds as we sat across from each other at my parent’s dinner table, smiles forming on our faces as everyone talked around us. That was several Motley Crue tours ago, and now that they’re all home for the next four months, Nikki and I have plenty of time to try and formulate a plan. Hopefully, we'll be able to enact some type of plan before my graduation, avoiding any negative outcomes.

“You know he’s going to freak out the second we tell him,” Nikki points out the obvious, lying on his side next to me in my bed. His hair is a wreck and the makeup he had on from their last show stains underneath his eyes. The second he got back from their recent tour, he came straight over to my apartment while Tommy went to our parents. It worked out perfectly. “I mean, he’s not going to be happy.”

“About what? That his best friend is in his sister's bed? Or that we’re naked?” I ask him, rolling over to press my chest against his, gaining a smirk from him in response. Instantly, Nikki’s arm resting against my waist pulls me closer to him as he connects his plush lips to mine for a short second. The moment he pulls away, I can’t help but giggle. “Do you think Tommy’s going to kill us?”

Nikki laughs at my whispered question, shaking his head against my sheets. “No, he won’t kill us. Me maybe, but definitely not you,” he jokes, earning a teasing slap to his chest. He only grins at this, his lower lips caught between his teeth. “I think if we invite him over and calmly explain it to him, he might have a… better reaction.”

Nodding at Nikki’s words, I cuddle closer to him in our hold while pushing my face against his neck. It feels so good to finally be able to spend time with Nikki that doesn’t involve him having to use a pay phone or sending me postcards. We’re finally together after almost five months of having to suffer without him. I couldn’t be happier for him to finally be back, and what makes it even better is the fact that he came straight to my place after getting off the plane. I don’t know what exactly went through my head when he knocked on my apartment door with his carry-on behind him, but I do remember immediately pulling him inside for a kiss. That kiss is why we’re in our current predicament as that kiss was just the start of many things to occur throughout the night.

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t lose his shit,” I mumble, Nikki nodding in response to my words. For a few moments, a calm silence passes between us, but it’s not awkward; in fact, it’s the exact opposite. It feels as if the world and time itself has slowed down around us and it’s just me and Nikki, no one else.

“I could stay like this forever,” I whisper to Nikki, earning a nod and kiss back in response. I can hear his voice speak up, “me too, sweetheart,” but I’m drifting asleep too fast to even process the words. Being so comfortable in his arms has made me feel like I haven’t slept in ages, and it’s so relaxing.

The sound of my front door slamming open has me emerging from my sleepy state quickly, and before I can even jump up to investigate, Nikki’s already out of bed, wrapping a random towel from my floor around his waist as he opens my bedroom door. The strong and brave demeanor he gained thinking it was an intruder immediately falters as soon as his eyes catch Tommy walking through my living room with his back facing us, causing Nikki to quietly shut the door afterward before turning to me with wide eyes. “What the fuck,” he mouths to me, only to be met with my own bewildered expression. When the hell did my brother get a key to my place?

“(Y/n)?” Tommy yells my name out, bringing me out of my stupor. Jumping up from my bed, I clamber over to my door and quickly grab my robe. Quickly shuffling to put it on, Nikki helps me do so as my legs kind of feel like jelly right now, leading to him holding me against him as I stand.

“I’m in my room!” I yell out, fear coursing through me as I hear Tommy’s running feet come closer. “Don’t come in! I’m naked!” I add, hoping he’ll get the message. However, because it’s Tommy we’re talking about, he never gets the message.

I hear him laugh, Nikki and I sharing a confused look as he does so. That is until his laughter is cut short and his tone changes. “Why are you naked?” He asks, banging on my bedroom door now. “Is there a boy in there?!”

With there being no lock on my door, Tommy wastes no time in opening it, only to turn the corner and see his best friend standing right beside me, my pink bath towel wrapped around his naked torso as his arm stays wrapped around my waist, definitely not making the situation any better. For a moment, Tommy is shocked, and I’m almost scared of what’s to come next.

“Oh, what the fuck?!” He finally speaks up, Nikki and I jolting as soon as he does so. “Nikki, really?! How long- When did- ugh!” Shouting in frustration, Tommy throws his hands up in the air before moving to sit on the edge of my bed, seemingly a little overwhelmed. “I mean, I never knew! How did I not know? I should’ve seen something, right?” Tommy looks over at me and Nikki, waiting for a response that we can’t seem to give him. In fact, neither of us can really speak up at the moment, still in shock.

“Nikki, we’re best buds - you couldn’t have told me?” He says, shaking his head afterward. Looking down at the ground, he sighs. “At least it wasn’t Vince…” he mutters more to himself than us, but Nikki and I end up letting out a relieved laugh at Tommy’s sudden joking mood.

“At least you’re not trying to kill me,” Nikki tells Tommy, making him laugh as well. The more Tommy seems to let go, the more relieved I become. Maybe Tommy’s accepting of our relationship, but then again, he doesn’t know all the details - like the fact we’ve been together for over a year now, and Tommy’s only finding out now.

“No, dude, I just wish you would’ve told me sooner,” Tommy says, making me smile. “I wondered why you haven’t touched any of the chicks on our tours, but now I know- and dude! I’m actually relieved now!”

At Tommy’s revelation, I fully relax in Nikki’s hold as my heart skips a beat, Nikki pulling my body closer to him in response. I always believed Nikki when he said he wasn’t with anyone else, but to hear Tommy further validate everything makes me feel so much more love for Nikki as well as the love Nikki proclaims to me.

The moment’s going so well, perfect almost, but just like Tommy, Nikki doesn’t get the hint when to stop either, and instead of letting the silence persist, he has to speak his mind.

“Dude, you probably shouldn’t be sitting on the bed, though.”

[babyyweebbitch]

Situations

these are also gonna be long so get some snacks 💃🏾🕺🏽💃🏾🕺🏽

trigger warning : kidnapping , injury , fem!reader , arguing , crying , OOC wesker and Heisenberg

Leon K.

leon has been a single father since you could remember, he’s been able to somehow juggle being your father and his job at the same time. usually whenever he’s working he leaves you his card so you can order food if you don’t feel like cooking or basically do anything that doesn’t cost him over $10k, so you’re pretty good on your own but he still worries about you and calls alot. probably almost every hour to so just to make sure you’re still alive.

leon was on his way home from a mission and this day you haven’t answered his calls, the first few times he called he assumed you fell asleep. wasn’t near your phone or something that didn’t cause him to panic. so he called you again to ask you if you wanted anything from the store but when you didn’t answer for the 5th time he started to panic even more. so he completely ditched the store and speeded home to get you. when he started to get closer and closer to the penthouse you both lived at he panicked a lot more seeing the window broken in your room. after parking and practically running upstairs he didn’t take the elevator he just ran.

he saw the door was wide open and as he entered the place was trashed and looked shot up. he noticed your phone was sitting on the kitchen counter with a note next to it

the note read: Mr Kennedy, we have your daughter and we want money. call (number) to negotiate. and maybe we’ll let you talk to her. who knows we look forward to hearing from you — i know she would love to talk to you

leon’s blood was fucking boiling right now, he thought the bad guys weren’t gonna go so low as to bring his child into this, his only reason for living and coming back home every mission. he didn’t hesitate to call the number and waited for someone to pick up…. which they did

“you motherfuckers! where is my daughter!?”

“oh Mr Kennedy, didn’t expect you to call so soon. we just got to the building”

“that wasn’t my fucking question asshole! where is she!?”

“she’s right here, but first the money…. let’s talk about that first. agree on $100k and maybe we’ll think about giving her back” in the back was you screaming and crying which made leon think the worse

“i’ll give you all the money in my safe which is her college fund — about $300k…. please let me speak to her”

“ah! $300k for college? must be a good school….. deal — meet us at that abandoned warehouse by outside the city, you can’t miss it … take all the time you need”

“wait! let me talk—“ and they hung up… the last sound he heard was you yelling ‘Daddy help me!!’ he placed his phone down before punching the counter and silently thinking to himself what he was going to do…. he wanted to bust in there and shoot them all but they could kill you the moment he shot someone — or he could give your collage fund away and just start from scratch again

after a long time of thinking he finally left and made his way to the warehouse with a full duffel bag. he walked up to the doors and kicked them open with the bag and gun in hand

“see this is how we’re gonna do this now” he said, scanning the room for you and seeing you tied up in the middle of two men, almost everyone had their guns drawn to him after he made a surprise entrance “we’re gonna do this nice and smoothly, you give her to me and i give you the money at the same time, got it?”

everyone stood there for a few seconds and looked at each other like they were debating it before the leader finally agreed

“okay, seems fair….” he said before grabbing you and walking closer to leon

“untie her first…. the bag isn’t tied so she shouldn’t be either”

the leader stood there for a second before he finally untied you and then pushed you to leon, after you were close to leon he threw the bag at the man’s feet

“dad…!” you said, your voice almost gone from screaming and crying almost all day, he picked you and and slowly backed out of the warehouse as everyone gathered around to look at the bag

“shhh…. don’t worry it’s okay i gotcha” he said as he carried you to the car and grabbed a remote form the dashboard after you were all buckled in and secured

“wait a second…. this isn’t all money, its—“

BOOM! an explosion happened as leon pressed the button on the remote — after he went to see if he killed all of them he closed the doors slowly, got into the car with you and started to drive away

“what did you do?!” you asked as he drove away, you looked out the window to see the warehouse was starting to catch on fire and more explosions started happening from the chemicals and whatever the fuck they had in there

“gave them a nice surprise — are you okay?” he asked you with a straight face almost like he didn’t just kill 15 people

“well, aside from being kidnapped, being beaten up and stuff — i’m alive” you said in a joking tone thinking it was funny but he didn’t laugh

“they beat you up?” he asked in a worried tone, he’s still so shocked how you could joke about something like this but you’ve always been this way, even after the last time you almost died being dragged into one of his missions on accident

“yeah, but i’m good! i am your daughter after all! also did you really give them my college fund?” you asked all seriously

“i had to put some on the top of the bombs to make it look like i gave them money — sorry hun…”

“you should have given them all of it! i don’t wanna go to college!”

now he was shocked — flabbergasted may i say “you don’t wanna go to college anymore?”

“hell no! i changed my mind. i could just join the BSAA or something” you said the BSAA comment as a joke

“the BSAA? how about we just think about it first…”

“i’m gonna do it! i’m gonna do it!” you started laughing — so did he. you were always able to turn a dark situation into a bright funny one… he loved that about you

(damn this was long 🗿)

Chris R.

so chris is also a single father, your mother left a few months after you were born and this was hard on chris, not just because she left, because he was very busy and depressed at the time so dealing with his job, depression and fatherhood was horrible on him but he somehow managed to do it for 16 years.

one day you were home alone while chris was out getting groceries for the house and getting you something. you asked him so many times if he wanted you to come but he said no because he had a surprise for you and he didn’t want you to see it while he was getting it. so you were just home alone in your apartment waiting for him to come back.

you decided you wanted a snack from the cabinet and chris has always told you not to climb onto the counter to get something from the top shelf, he worried that you would fall and break something or even die from hitting your head on something, but you obviously don’t listen and do it anyway. you never believed him because you’ve never fallen when doing this

well today was the day he was going to be proven right — while you were getting your snack your cat had jumped on something which caused it to fall and break on the wood floor which then caused you to slip and fall and land right on your hand a weird way causing one of your fingers to break, you being a Redfield and immune to pain somehow you snapped it back into place and went to go clean up what your cat broke then you tended to you finger in the bathroom

you heard the front door open while you were doing your finger, you panicked and slammed the bathroom door with your injured hand and then

“OW FUCK! holy shit — what the hell, why did that hurt!?” came from the bathroom

chris placed all the bags down on the counter and went to the bathroom door, gently knocking on it to see what you were yelling about

“Y/N…? you okay in there? did something happen? can i come in?” he asked which made you stress tf out wondering if he was gonna come into the bathroom

“no! i’m okay! i’m good — never been better! i’ll come out in a second!” you said as you put a splint on your finger, you guys have a lot of splints because chris likes to break his fingers, dont know how but he does or that one time you broke your finger at work SOMEHOW 🗿 chris being suspicious but respectful believed what you said and went to out everything away

you sighed out of relief and fixed the splint so it wouldn’t move a lot while you’re doing something. after a few minutes of coming up with a lie on how you actually broke your finger you went out to the living room and sat down like nothing happened which chris didn’t buy

“sweetie can you come here….?” he said from the kitchen knowing something was up. you got up and went to him with a smile on your face and your hands behind your back

“yeah — what’s up?” you knew that he knew that you did something he said not to do — he’s just trying to figure it out

“why were you cursing in the bathroom? and you said ‘why did that hurt’ or something like that? what hurts?” he questioned, arms crossed, leaning hip on the counter and looking you dead in the eyes like he was staring into your soul or some

“so — what had happened was i….. was….. i was trying to uhhhh…..” you had a lie in your head all ready and everything — and you forgot it “so basically”

“the truth, Y/N”

“okay, so i broke my finger —“ you said holding up your hand with the splint on it. out of all the things he was expecting you to say…… this wasn’t it

“you what?! how the hell did you do that?!” he grabbed your hand to look at your finger. man’s was in papa bear mode now

“…uhh so i was a little hungry right? and i saw some chips on the top shelf so i climbed onto the counter but then—“ you snatched up your cat who just climbed onto the counter to see what was happening and held her out to your father “Willow over here broke something, that scared me and i fell off and broke my finger. so technically! it’s her fault” you said holding the cat out, the cat having not a single thought behind her eyes. cats head is empty right now….

chris laughed as he pet the cats head “so you did something even though i said not to?” you nodded and held Willow close to you, she purred and plopped her head onto your forearm.

“am i in trouble…?”

“no, but this teaches you not to climb on counters right? because what if you fell and hit your head? i wasnt here to help you” he said with concern on his face

“i know…. i’m staying far away from counters now” you joked before waddling over to the couch and placed willow down, chris laughed and he grabbed a small teddy bear from a bag he hid from your view

“looks like you don’t want this then, you have willow” he held the bear, it was the teddy bear you’ve been wanting for so long but you just never got it. you saw the bear and ran to snatch it from him almost ripping his arm off too…

“you got it?! thank you!” you said as you hugged him, you basically forgot you broke your finger

“you’re welcome — maybe it’ll help your broken finger”

“pshh! give it a few days and i’ll be fine!”

it’s scary how much like him you are but you are a Redfield after all…

Jake M.

jake is your older brother and he’s been watching over you since your mother died. you both lived in a medium sized house that was left by your mother and it was the house you both grew up in. jake was in the garage working on his bike since it needed some cleaning and mechanic work on it , he didn’t want you in there just because he wanted to save you from getting dirty or hurt or it somehow blowing up (that’s a joke lmao)

you were outside playing with your dog you rescued while he was on his mission with Sherry and he let you keep it since he knew the connection you both had but the dog hated him for some reason so they don’t have the best relationship. you were walking to get the stick the dog had dropped before getting water inside but you stepped into a hole in the ground which caused your ankle to crack abnormally loud, you started crying and holding your leg after you managed to get your ankle out, your dog ran out after he heard you crying and started whimpering along with you

“jake…. get jake for me…..” you told him and he ran to find your brother which didn’t take too long since Jake was getting mad at his bike for some reason. the dog started barking and running around by the door which confused jake

“what?” he asked, the dog went to go nudge jake in the direction of the door thinking the dog actually started to like him all of a dog so he got up and let the dog walk in front of him as he followed behind. the dog led him to you who was silently crying on the grass holding you leg. jake thought the worse and ran to see what happened

“hey! whoa, the fuck happened?!” he asked with obvious panic in his voice

“my ankle….” was all you were able to get out through your cries.

“did you break it, sprain it or do you not know?”

“i don’t know, it cracked really loud and it hurts so bad!”

he thought of what to do and realised he doesn’t have a car to drive you to a hospital so he picked you up and walked into the house, he placed you on your bed in your room and took a look at your ankle. he’s always been really good at telling the difference between a sprain and a broken bone somehow so he was able to figure it out

“you sprained your ankle… imma go to the store and get you some stuff for it” he said as he stood up, your dog was standing by the door worried as hell and whimpering, the moment jake stood up your dog jumped on the bed next to you and cuddled you to make you feel better.

jake thinking that the dog finally liked him now he went to pet him and that only caused the dog to growl at him

“oh so it’s still ‘fuck you’ i see….” he said all offended and you laughed at his reaction

“i don’t think he likes you, Jake”

“ya think?” he responded hella fast, which only made you laugh more. it made Jake happy to see you laugh so he let it slide even though he’s gonna have a conversation with the dog when he comes back

Albert W.

albert had adopted you when you were just a toddler, he found you in the middle of a burnt down house, your parents and siblings were all dead and you were the only survivor so he decided to make you his child, ever since adopting you he became softer, only around you though — god help anyone who sees his soft side….

albert has asked you a few times if you wanted to become like him power wise, and you’ve always said no because you don’t want power or strength since you don’t really plan on using it really… but this time he asked you got mad and kinda snapped at him…

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to have the abilities i have? you’ll be able to be stronger and faster than any person ever! it’ll be a b—“

“dad please, stop asking me that same thing over and over again! i’ve said no every single time, i don’t want your powers so leave it alone!” you said in an angry tone, you didn’t even mean for it to come out like it did, you just were so fed up with him asking the same time every other week since you turned 17. after a few seconds of silence he finally spoke

“Y/N Wesker…. you are my daughter — i want what is best for you and this is the best thing for you, dear. i want you to be happy”

“you’re not even my real dad! you don’t know what’s best for me, if you did you wouldn’t keep trying to convince me to become like you! if you want me to be happy stop asking that stupid freaking question! god!” and with that you stomped out the room to go to yours and he kinda just stood there you just said that to him…. ‘you’re not even my real dad’ hurt him a lot and he never thought he’d be able to be hurt like that ever, he thought of you as his blood and he thought you thought the same of him

once you got to your room to calm down you sighed and looked out the window

“i can’t believe you just said that…. you idiot” you said to yourself in the reflection of the window you felt really bad that you said that to him the way that you said that and the reason you said that. yeah the question was annoying but you hurting his feelings wasn’t right

after you were done crying because of what you just said to your father you went to go look for him in the mansion, tears were still in your eyes because you thought he hated you now and didn’t wanna see you anymore, you saw light in his office and you decided to knock on the door before entering

“come in….” he said calmly before you opened the door slowly and sniffled a bit while looking down. he turned to look at you

“i…im sorry for what i said — i didn’t mean it, i think you are my real dad it’s just came out of nowhere and—“ you were cut off by him hugging you tightly which only made you cry more

“no my dear — i am sorry…. i’m the one who has pushed you over the edge to say something so hurtful…. this should be a lesson for the both of us, think before we speak and don’t push each other”

you both silently agreed as you hugged for a few more seconds then let go of each other. after you stopped crying you both continued on with the night just being around each other and doing stuff.

never tell anyone he was actually nice, he’d put you up for adoption

Karl H.

karl had adopted you when you were a few months old so you’ve always thought he was your father and that your mother just left…. because that’s what he’s told you all your life… he didn’t want you knowing you were adopted because deep down he felt you were his biological daughter and you finding out 20 years later that your adopted would be hard as hell on you so he just lied

one day you were home alone while karl was at a family meeting with the lords and you saw his notebook was open in his room. you knew you shouldn’t look at it but you did anyway. you read the most recent pages where Karl was talking about you and how you were adopted, where he found you and asking himself if he should tell you. you were obviously shocked finding out that you weren’t actually biologically his and that your family left you in the middle of the village to freeze to death

after reading the last few pages you heard him open the front door, sounding happy as ever

“sweets! i’m home!” he called out for you, placing his hammer down. you got up and walked out the room, notebook in hand. you stood feet away from him with tears in your eyes

“sweets…? what’s wrong….?” he said his tone a bit sadder after he saw the notebook in your hand. you threw the notebook at his feet and started crying even more after that question

“you know exactly what’s wrong! i’m adopted?!” you asked, he tried to move closer to you hands out trying to calm you down, but you moved away from him

“no! get away from me and leave me alone for a bit…. i need to talk to Aunt Alcina because what the fuck, 20 years?! 20 fucking years you kept this from me?!” you cried as you left the house, he didn’t even try to stop you because he thought you hated his guts now. he knew you were going to find out one day weather it be Alcinas or dukes big mouths telling you or like this, he kinda just stood there staring at the book you had thrown at him and sighed

you were crying the entire way to the castle and eventually ran into Alcina who was concerned as to why you were crying, she cared about you a lot, more than she did Karl. you went to her whenever you had a problem of any kind and this was a big problem

“Y/N honey? why are you crying? did something happen?” she asked as she guided you to her room and sat you down on her massive mattress right next to her, Daniela and Cassandra were in the room as well because they sensed you were crying

“i’m adopted….. I read his notebook where he was talking about it and it said he adopted me” you told her, crying even more and going to hug Daniela as you did. Alcina rubbed your back as you cried and she sighed

“i know…. we all knew �� he didn’t want to tell you because he knew how much it would hurt you. i was going to tell you for years but i couldn’t find it in my heart to hurt you so i kept my mouth shut” she started… “but you have to know that he didn’t tell you for this long because he didn’t want you to hate him — as much as i hate my little brother i have to give him credit for this. you are his daughter and he and your father… blood or not my dear, that man won’t shut up about you…. you are the best thing that’s ever happened to him i’ve never seen him happier”

you started to slowly calm down as she spoke, she’s right — your parents left you to die when you were a few months old, and he was the only one who actually took care of you — he didn’t have to but he wanted too and now you felt bad for yelling at him. after you were calm you got up and went back to your home where you last saw Karl, once you opened the door you saw him sitting on the couch holding the notebook

“dad! i’m sorry!” you said, standing there scared he didn’t wanna see you after you walked out on him, he turned back to see you and his expression changed from whatever the hell it was before to sadness, he stood up and walked over to you gently grabbing your hand and looking you in the eye, you couldn’t look at him you felt so bad

“no i’m sorry — i never should have lied to you your entire life i…. i just…. i just didnt want to lose the only person i actually genuinely care about — you are my world and i would give up everything and then some just for you….” he said, he meant every word he said , like Alcina said you’re his daughter and he is your father, blood doesn’t mean shit it’s who you consider as family in your life “do you still hate me…?” he asked almost in a mumble

“hate you? no! i could never hate you! i would never hate you even if you broke my legs — you’re my best friend for life and nothing is gonna change that” you hugged him and cried after that, part of you felt so bad for yelling at him like that earlier

after you both had a long talk about everything you had dinner and put everything that happened that day behind you and stayed happy with your dad — he’s glad you don’t hate him, he has no idea how he could live without you

look at me go! two writings in a week 💃🏾🕺🏽💃🏾🕺🏽 i rushed Heisenbergs because i’m very tired 🗿

[igotathingforvampires]

Anon Ask | Caius Volturi x F!Witch Reader: Punishments

Canon Divergent Dora is true mated to Renata because I <3 Renata Fight Me

Reader is a Witch.

You are a human. Who managed because of a latent heritage of being a Witch to wander past Heidi into the Throne Room thinking it’s a tour.

You’re not stupid, you walk right in and get near the dais and look around and realize that this is not just a tour.

Sighing, you glance around and face palm. “Ahhhhhh Fuck My Life.”

The Kings of Volterra are eyeing you with amusement.

You sigh, and glare UP at the throne of a very, very gorgeous almost elfin, platinum haired King who’s GLARING back at you with a raised brow and a scowl.

“So ah do I get to pick who offs me?”

All vampires just PAUSE.

“Because okay, if I’m gonna die.” You point at Caius. “That one. You. You’ve got dibs Sir.”

Caius is Shooketh.

This little human has got some guts.

He hates humans. HATES humans.

So why when he snatches you up and you just look at him with those big eyes, and a small smile “just make it quick hm?”

You wait, eyes closed.

Caius pauses, growling and suddenly NOPE you’re picked up and ZOOM.

Aro: The fuck just happened?

You’re tucked away in his inner sanctuary of his rooms, sat down on a chair. “Sit RIGHT here human. If you move I shall be displeased, you won’t like what happens if you make me angry.”

“Uhhhhhh kay.”

Caius goes and feeds and after he sits amongst his brothers. “I’m keeping it.” He growls

Turns out he can keep you because you’re not human! YAY!

“So am I like a bunny.”

“Less than a Rabbit you’re human.” Caius would growl at you.

“Mmmkay.”

How things Go:

You are the chillest bitch to ever chill. Life has not been great, in fact it’s been a horror show, Aro of course sees this and he scolds Caius for treating you like a piece of furniture rather than a person.

Aro knows you’re just feeling Caius out, watching because there are moments— the very few moments— when he is oh so gentle.

You shiver, a blanket is flung at your face. “My luck you’d catch pneumonia.”

Your tummy rumbles, the chef brings a five star meal. “I don’t need you dying.”

You’re bored, suddenly you’re in front of the TV and given access to ALL the shows. “You’re being a pest.”

Aro also knows your temper is starting to appear the more Caius pushes you away.

Caius isn’t sure what to even do with you— he is FEELING things, things he’s never even felt with Dora. And Dora is berating him alongside Marcus for being an utter nitwit.

“Cai for all your brilliance for strategy you’re an idiot in romance.” Dora says.

He knows it’s true. He’s an asshole.

And angry.

All the time. But when you’re around he’s not angry anymore.

But at one point you’re still fidgeting with your hands. “What is the problem now.”

“Ah…well…” you fidget some more, “c-can I have some water colors?”

Caius freezes. “You paint?” He seems curious.

You nod. “I do digital art but I like canvas art too!” You show him your phone of photoshop collages, watercolor, digital paintings and such.

“You do this on a computer?” He tilts his head. He hates technology. So seeing that one can create art this way is astounding to him.

“Yeah I had to sell my iPad a while ago so sadly I can’t do much right now but if I have some water colors that would be a good start!” You bounce on your feet.

You have the a massive iMac, a Wacom Cintiq 24”, an entire selection of Derwent colors and crazy amounts of canvases and anything else you might need that an artist can think of.

Caius is utterly stunned when you tackle him and kiss his cheek thanking him.

His heart explodes into confetti.

Art is how Caius communicates his gentler side. His art is beautiful, evoking deep emotions, and his hand is gentle and fluid enough in motion to capture even the most minute details.

You both grow exceptionally close, till Marcus one day pulls him aside to inform him of the Mate Bond that is between you two.

The Kiss:

You’re modeling for Caius, it’s a random request and you feel utterly embarrassed dressed in flowing robes and sprawled on a chaise lounge half hanging off, your hair spilling onto the marble floor.

You can’t quite help but notice how his gaze is pitch black and devouring you.

“M-Master Caius?”

“Caius.” He grumbles.

“Huh?”

“I think it’s about time you can call me Caius y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump an erratic beat as magic swirls in your eyes. It’s slowly been coming back to you, being cared for, like a plant long neglected, your magic has begun to grow under the tender albeit aloof care of the vampire King you’re so utterly in love with.

But you know it’s silly, there’s no way it’d work—

He’s suddenly next to you, hovering nose to nose, pulling you towards him, “you consume me.”

It’s the last thing he says for a long while as you both end up staying on that lounge for a— ahem lengthy amount of time.

Punishments:

Caius is a sadist.

But he’s a loving sadist.

He has so many kinks he doesn’t know what to do with them. And luckily for him— surprise surprise you’re kinky too.

But you tend to be mouthy. And Caius does not like when he is disobeyed. “Be a good pet and go sit.”

“But—“

“1.”

When Aro counts it’s for orgasms.

When Caius counts it’s for paddling or the crop.

Or it’s for forced orgasms and overstimulation.

The dynamic between you is quite lovely, boundaries are discussed whenever needed, although Caius can come across as gruff and uncaring, at one point during punishment play you had said your safe word rather quickly, and everything stopped. Oils, bath, rub down, talks, blankets, snuggles, and so many kisses to the forehead. “Bunny, oh my little bunny what happened?”

As someone who does not cry.

Ever.

Aro has attested to this.

It astounds Caius that you’d trust him enough to do so.

He realizes that he’s earned a trust that has not been earned by anyone in a long long time, knowing that feeling, he would never break it by overdoing things or going past your boundaries.

Punishments are talked out. Explained. Rules are fairly discussed and you ALWAYS have a say in vetoing or staying off for another day.

If it’s a topic that has yet to be discussed it is tabled, and discussed for what an appropriate response should be.

Punishments include:

Caning

Paddle

Crop (your favorite)

Being suspended and teased.

Leashed. Yes he will have you walk behind him with a leash and collar. And yes he will sit in the Library with you on a leash and your head in his lap. “Good Bunny.”

You are a very good bunny.

Caius has only had only lost his temper with you once. And never will again.

It was due to negligence on your part, you had disobeyed him when it was imperative for you to listen, not aware of the danger of a local coven’s very out of control member. “But Cai why—“

They had heard your blood sing to them.

Caius had torn the individual to pieces in a fit of utter rage before turning on you with a shout, “I told you NEVER to disobey me.” he roared at you, the energy coming off him practically feral as his eyes were murderous.

Seeing you shrink back; the fear in your gaze at him almost broke his heart when the dread kicked in as to what he had done. He had frightened you.

He was supposed to be your comfort and safety.

of course you wouldn't understand vampire's ways of doing things.

or what a singer was...you were a witch...

But before he could even think to reach for you...

You had fled.

Hidden away in Dora’s rooms you tucked yourself away in her bathroom in the tub with a blanket curled up and wept.

Dora and Sulpricia beat the shit out of Caius.

He had sat outside the door pleading with you for hours.

He knew he had utterly fucked up.

He had a horrid temper, he knew it, and the idea of you being drained dry right in front of him had been far too much for him to think of. “Y/n please talk to me. I'm so sorry please forgive me.”

You had unlocked the door with magic…. And he had merely crawled into the tub with you, curled around you underneath the blanket and held you while you cried into him and smacked at his chest. “Don’t do that ever again!!!”

“I know, I know bunny I know. Never again. I'm a bastard I know.”

You calmed down and glared at him.

“Would you like to delve out a punishment?”

You blinked, confused and then realized what he was offering.

“Yes.”

And that is how you ended up quite happy with your vampire begrudgingly, and amused sitting at your feet in your shared rooms with GOOD BOY on a thick leather collar.

Turns out Caius likes being punished too.

“Also a masochist hm?” You laugh at him and grip him by his hair.

“So it seems.” He muses kissing your knee and nudging your legs apart. “But the reward is worth it isn’t it bunny?”

[dawl-and-dapple]

rating: general word count: 1443

Essek and Jester being sweet, based on the non-sexual intimacy prompt 'escorting the other to a doctor/ therapist appointment' given by @mllekurtz

***

Can you drive me to the dentist next week pretty please?

It’s been almost a year since Essek had first been asked to give one of his friends a lift. The requests had slowed somewhat since Caleb finally got himself his own car two months ago, but he is not yet necessarily free from this particular duty. Now he receives a text asking to be driven out of town most often when Caleb is occupied with work, sick, or inebriated.

These texts used to make him wince. After some time they made him smile. These days, they tend to catch him a little off-guard.

Is Caleb not available? he responds.

No, Jester texts back, he’s got an appointment too. Are you gonna be busy?

No, I will be available. I’ll drive you.

Thank you!! I’ll meet you outside the school like usual!! Love you so much!!!!

Essek puts away his phone. He remembers where Jester’s dentist is from the last time she had him drive there. There’s a nice café two blocks away where he could wait out her appointment, reading and enjoying a cup of tea, before driving her home again. He puts his mind to picking out which book to bring.

Five days later, when Essek arrives in the small car park across from the art college, he’s twenty minutes early. He occupies himself by methodically checking his emails, texts, then social media.

Caleb has sent him a photo of Frumpkin playing with his television’s cables. Essek asks if he’s forgotten about his therapy appointment. Caleb responds with a photo taken through a windscreen of a city road, blocked with traffic as far as the eye can see, and a text reading, I wish I had.

Someone knocks on Essek’s window.

“Hey!” Jester’s nose presses up against the glass. “You got here early,” she says, muffled. “You should have let me know.”

“I am not going to encourage you to leave class early, Jester.” He opens the passenger door.

“Boo.” Jester flops into the seat and begins buckling herself in as Essek starts the engine. “We could have hung out a little! We’ve all been so busy since the summer and I miss you, you know. I wanna know how you’ve been! Do you wanna talk about work? Probably not. How about, um, how’s the new flat? I heard Caduceus helped you settle in.”

“I have been well,” Essek says as he pulls out of the car park. “You remember that miniature flower bed you helped me build on my windowsill? I have been growing a little basil plant there.”

“Oh! Have you used the leaves to make anything?”

Essek winces. Of the scant few recipes he could reliably prepare, most are from his home. He’d failed to find a Xhorhasian supermarket in the area after moving and had taken it as a strong sign to try working with what he’d been given. But his lack of experience cooking anything at all made adapting that much harder.

“The cooking part...I am working on that. I will be asking for Caduceus’ guidance again.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” Jester says airily while digging through the small collection of audiobooks and music discs in the door compartment. “How long have you had these? Caleb’s car doesn't even have a CD player. Oh, I bet Caleb could help!” She grins at his reflection in the internal mirror. “He can make some very tasty Zemnian meals, you know.”

“I do know. I believe I’ve eaten one or two prepared by him at a dinner party with the others.”

“You should ask him to teach you the recipes.”

“I might. What did you get up to today? Painting? Sculpting?”

Jester smirks. She answers him, goes on to talk about her current project (a ten-foot-tall collage of hundreds of vintage pinup photographs, though Essek cannot parse the meaning of it). Essek gets the distinct impression that she’s barely holding herself back from needling him more.

As they reach the edge of the city, the traffic slows. A heavy sense of doom overcomes Essek, while Jester flips through the radio channels.

Someone behind Essek honks. He grits his teeth.

“Oh, the traffic here is pretty bad, huh.”

Essek flexes his hands around the steering wheel. “Yes, it seems so.”

Jester turns the radio off. “Do you have to be anywhere after this?”

“No,” he replies. The car comes to a dead halt. “I do not.”

Jester bounces in her seat as if she might be able to peer over the roofs of the dozens of gridlocked cars ahead of them. “Oh man,” she says. “I’d get there faster if I walked.” She goes quiet. After a heartbeat she smiles and turns towards Essek. “Hey Essek? Do you have any sexy audiobooks?”

“What?”

“Like, do you have a CD in here of someone reading a porn book out loud.”

“No, why would I have–?”

“That’s okay, I can plug my phone into the dashboard.”

“Please, Jester.”

“Okay!” She laughs, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. “What CDs do you have? All the titles are in Undercommon...”

“Most are audio documentaries. There are two about special relativity, one about magnetism, and one on the life of a particular astrophysicist. There’s also a rock album in there somewhere; my brother gave it to me as a joke.”

Jester snorts.

“I am very boring, aren't I?”

“No!” Jester suddenly grabs his shoulder and shoves him around in his seat, which would have worried him were they moving at any velocity at all. “You’re not! Essek, you’re very fun and interesting.”

Essek smiles as he’s shaken from side to side, keeping his eyes on the traffic jam ahead. “I am very fun and interesting,” he repeats.

She finally stops shoving at his shoulder. “I should get you some new fun CDs for your car. I don’t even know where to buy CDs these days, but I'll get you some.”

“Can you promise there will be no more than one pornographic item in this collection?” he asks, raising his brow at Jester in the mirror.

“Oh, sure.”

“Then, as they say, go wild.”

“Neat. Hey! I know we’ve all been super busy lately but I bet we can do, like, a dinner party or something. Just one evening. Yasha got back into town this week and Veth says Luc has been spending most weekends at his friends’ houses so she can come over. Maybe a Saturday night?” She’s pulled out her phone already. “We can just hang out in my and Fjord’s flat for a while. Or yours!”

“I do not think I have enough space for nine.”

“But would you be free?”

He thinks. “Next weekend, yes.”

Jester pumps her fist in the air. “Awesome! I’ll text the others.”

The traffic moves ever so slightly. Essek watches the cars ahead of him like a cat watching a bird.

“Beau might be the busiest but I bet she’ll want to come. Oh, Caleb can cook something with Caduceus! One of those meals you liked.”

“Uh, maybe.”

“Maybe you can show him a recipe you know too. Try that sometime.”

“Hm.” The car in front finally budges. Essek inches forward.

“I bet he’d love that, Essek.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know you don't think you’re a good cook, but I remember that rice meal you made when I came over last spring and it was good!”

Now they’re driving again, if at no more than five mph. Essek grips the wheel.

“Make that meal, put on a good movie, wear something cute — that black top with the long sleeves I think — and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me, Fjord was no match for the tried and true Lavorre Technique.”

“Hm.”

“And then maybe you can finally talk to him about your big fat crush on Cay-leb.”

The car directly ahead halts. Essek swears and steps on the brake. He stares at Jester. “Pardon?”

She just grins at him.

“I was not listening. Sorry.”

“Oh that’s okay,” she croons, “But guess what…”

Essek is familiar with this tone. It doesn't scare him as much as it used to; he’s developed somewhat of a pavlovian response to her mischief in spite of his initial displeasure. As her grin widens, Essek feels a mirrored anticipatory smile spread across his face.

“You’re stuck in here with me,” she sings, waving her index fingers side-to-side with each word, “and we’re stuck in here together, and I wanna know the truth. So…” She leans forward. “Don’t you like him?”

Essek, face hot, but still smiling, reaches for the radio fast enough to fumble the air conditioning.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[bangtangalicious]

cancelled (1) | myg, jjk

summary: you cheated on your boyfriend, one of the most sought after boys on campus, with the nerd from the back of the lecture hall. that’s not the whole story, but only you know that. now a video has leaked across and everyone is turning against you for hurting such a perfect s/o.

pairing: yoongi x reader, jungkook x reader

wordcount: 3k

genre: yandere!yoongi and nerd!jungkook exyandere!jungkook

established-relationship!au college!au cheating!au

warnings: reader discretion is advised. cheating, mentions of past dubcon activity, yandere behavior, guilt, slight oral (f and m receiving), reverse cowgirl, soft smut in a not so soft situation, manipulation, jungkook calls you his pretty baby, sexual harassment, yoongi is lowkey a creep in this, prostitution i guess but like...its not how you'd think, mentions of rape fantasy but it doesnt happen

twoshot: part 1 | part 2 | masterlist

They say that you let a good thing be. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Well in your almost perfect life, that hand was Min Yoongi. Your boyfriend of 2 years now. You met through family, he was an heir, and you were the daughter of a wealthy associate. He used to spend his spring breaks with your family back in high school. You recall fondly how he sneak out, begging you to cover for him, end up passed out drunk in some alley and calling you, scared for his life.

You saw the way he grew—no, blossomed into the amazing man he is. You both got accepted to the same prestigious university program, and it is here your love story truly began. Straight out of a movie, Yoongi did not realize how much he adored you until he saw you grinding your ass up on some random guy at a frat party. A few months of drama gave way to pure happiness.

Yoongi made quite a name for himself on campus. He was incredibly charming, was impressive in his studies, and was always around for a good time. He treated everyone with respect and had no enemies. You felt proud to be his girlfriend, by his side as he made his mark.

And he was so so good to you. While your start may have been driven by jealousy and rage, he made up for it entirely by taking you on weekend getaways, loving you sweetly, holding you while you cry and buying you food. You two were freakishly domestic, and you loved it. You were ready for the ring whenever he was. So blessed that you could wake up every morning in a pair of arms that held you like you were their whole world.

Unfortunately, paradise tends to be a destination never quite reached. You sat, curled up into your knees, trembling as you watched cruel comments pop up on a video.

ungrateful whore.

Yoongi deserves so much better

#y/nisoverparty

why would you even want to cheat on a catch like yoongi? jfc

You didn’t know what bothered you the most. Was it the comments? Was it your fucked out face in the video? You moans that clearly indicated pleasure? Was it the fact that you hurt a man you loved? Or was it the fact that he was still there, sitting right next to you and kissing your damp cheeks every time he saw a tear, mumbling into your neck that it was okay, that he wasn’t mad. Did you deserve someone so perfect?

“Aw baby” He coos at you, stroking your hair as your sobs got louder. You fell into his embrace, unsure of what to think or do. “Ssh…I’m not mad baby. It’s my fault I wasn’t there”

You didn’t know how true his words were. You didn’t know just how at fault he was.

Yoongi had been doing his work in your shared apartment in his private study which even you weren’t allowed to enter. The security footage of your lecture played on his monitor, but he was barely paying attention. He kept an eye on you, but it was getting unnecessary. You had been together for so long, he could trust you now. He sighed and zoomed into where you sat, whispering something to the person seated next to you. They giggled and slid their hand onto your thigh. Yoongi simply watched, a smirk playing on his lips. The whole campus knew you were his. No one would dare make a move on you. He made sure of it. It was the whole reason he made your relationship so visible. He had people’s respect, and so they would respect that you belonged to him.

The hand trailed up your thin yoga pants, cupping your core. You slapped the hand away and Yoongi grinned wider. He liked to test you every now and then.

Yoongi wired money to that man’s bank account through his phone. Now all you had to do was tell him what happened. There was no room for secrets between you two.

“I’m home babe” He heard you walk in. He popped a Xanax and gulped down a glass of water. He smiled at you sweetly, taking your bag and setting it down before attacking your neck with soft, breathless kisses.

“How was your day?” He asked quietly, “Anything interesting happen?”

“Nah. Pretty uneventful” He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh. Nothing at all?”

“Well” Yoongi’s eyes perked. Tell me someone harassed you baby. Just tell me. “I did try this amazing latte at the cafe in the Literature building.”

Why were you lying to him? Yoongi tilted his head. It wasn’t that big of a deal, it just made him wonder what else you hid from him. The little things. The little things that pile up.

Yoongi realized it had gone too far when he heard you gossiping with a few of your girl friends in the hallway of the Science Institute. “I just can’t believe he won’t fuck you. Doesn’t he know how many people would if they had a chance?”

“He seems so perfect but it’s almost like he’s just lacking the one key thing. Dick” They giggled. You rolled your eyes. You had confessed that you really did want to have sex. Yoongi wanted to save himself for marriage, but it was getting hard for you. When you brought this up with Yoongi he shut you down immediately.

“Baby” He fingered the purity ring on his pinky finger, “You know I can’t”

You had been frequently meeting with someone from one of your lab classes, a certain Jeon Jungkook. Yoongi didn’t love this, but he was acquainted with Jungkook, and knew that he likely was not a threat. The boy was not your type at all—his clunky glasses and sweater vests and his hair long and swept back, unlike Yoongi’s fresh blonde cut. Sometimes you wouldn’t tell him that you were with Jungkook, but he still knew. Nothing happened. But he still got irritated.

Unfortunately it was impossible to truly watch you all the time. After all, Yoongi was a social guy and had to make appearances frequently. He often wondered if you knew he watched you, so you waited to run off fuck yourself on Jungkook when he wasn't looking. He bit his lip until blood came out, raging at the prospect.

He wasn’t entirely wrong about you though. You did always feel pressure of behaving in a way that reflected well on him. So when everyone was looking at Yoongi, you were able to slouch your shoulders and relax. You would go to Jungkook’s house for a drink, with no ulterior motive on either of your end. You loved Yoongi. Jungkook respected him, and you. There was no issue.

So when Yoongi showed up at Jungkook’s doorstep a week later with a bag full of cash asking him to fuck his girlfriend, he was disgusted at first.

“E…excuse me?” He stammered, blushing. Yoongi squinted at him.

“Have sex with y/n the next time she is over.” He put on a show, “I just feel bad I cannot give her what she desires. I don’t want to deprive her of anything. I know she is fond of you so if you wouldn’t mind…she is very beautiful I can tell you that”

“I…that’s not…do you realize how insane this is?”

Yoongi shrugged, “It’s twenty-thousand dollars to fuck a pretty girl. What’s so bad?”

“Does she want this? D…do you have her consent to be asking me this?”

“Of course.” He chuckled giving a charming smile, “In fact, she has a bit of a fantasy that I was hoping you could indulge. I am not sure if she will go through with it but, she might try to resist at first, but really she wants to be used like a whore. She will love it, really.”

Jungkook gave him a skeptical look. “What the fuck? You want me to indulge your girlfriend’s rape fantasy? I’m not a fucking sadist”

“It’s not a rape fantasy. She just likes to struggle a bit but then she will get into it. She will want it”

“I can’t believe I am even entertaining this conversation, you need to leave”

“Forty-thousand.”

“Fuck off Yoongi. First of all, I am not even into y/n…” He paused.

“Oh please, she’s the finest thing in miles of here, you just haven’t considered her as available. That’s how I know I can trust you to do this for me.”

Jungkook gulped. That’s not quite it. He thought to himself. But the thought passed when Yoongi took off his watch and handed it to him.

“This is worth half a million dollars. Are we good?”

Jungkook just gaped at him.

“You have had sex before right?”

Oh yes he had. Once. He nodded slowly.

“Okay good. Please show her a good time and keep this between us”

“She knows right? She knows you’re asking me to do this?”

Yoongi grinned and pat Jungkook’s shoulder, “Oh baby boy, she’s the one who suggested it”

Jungkook found that a bit hard to believe.

What Yoongi didn’t know was that Jungkook already has had sex. With you. You didn’t know it was him, and it was long before you began dating Yoongi.

Jungkook had been obsessed with you as a high schooler, your pictures collaging the back of his bathroom door, a variety of your things—forgotten hoodies, dropped pens— messily shoved into the drawer of his desk.

It was an innocent phase at first. You were just so pretty. He couldn’t help the way his blood would rush between his legs every time you would glance in his general direction. He couldn’t help watching the way you outgrew your uniform skirt, almost breaking down in tears when you replaced it with a larger size. He would sneak out of class when you had PE to watch you run, and the way your breasts bounced in the tight top you wore.

You didn’t know him. Why would you? He was no way near your league. He worked extremely hard, dreaming to get into the same university as you on a full ride because his family could never afford it.

Jungkook would normally follow you home, obviously he just wanted to make sure you reached safe. You had been crying the entire walk home. Jungkook had to gather every ounce of self restraint not to go hug you and kiss you until you smiled again. He hated seeing you cry, and it made him want to die.

He was worried about you. You entered your beautiful home, but no one was there. What if you tried to harm yourself? Who would protect you?

He had snuck in through the back.

If anyone had been around, they may have heard a scream. But more likely the would have heard the cries of pleasure that followed.

That evening you told Yoongi you were going to work on stuff with Jungkook. You dressed modestly, not bothering to freshen up much. He watched through his cameras as you arrived into Jungkook’s tiny apartment. So much smaller than his, probably in more ways than one, he clicked his tongue in amusement.

“Hey Jungkook!” You hugged him lightly. He looked extremely uncomfortable which made Yoongi all the more amused.

Two people fucking who both don’t want to. What do you call that? Yoongi chuckled darkly.

“Listen y/n…I know that…I know I agreed but I just wanna make sure…” Jungkook could barely look you in the eye. As destiny would have it, you chose that moment to pull your hoodie off, giving Jungkook a flash of the underside of your breasts. He gulped. “You really don’t remember me do you…”

“What do you mean?” You were so confused. Jungkook licked his lips and crawled over where you were sitting on his couch, causing you to lay on your back. “What…hey what the fuck are you doing?”

He didn’t like your tone. It awoke a protective instinct in him. He stroked your hair and gazed deeply into your eyes. “How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

You blushed furiously, face heating up dangerously fast at the sudden question. You shifted your neck away from him uncomfortably. “Um…I guess…3, maybe 4 years?”

“Tsk, poor girl.” He cooed, his finger grazed your cheek, “Alright, I’ll play along. You can let me know if you want me to stop okay?” He lowered himself enough to let his lips trace travel down the veins on your neck. He inhaled you, memories of innocent years coming back to him in floods.

You were frozen. His body radiated heat, his scent was giving you a high you couldn’t quite explain. You shouldn’t feel this way. You had sweet sweet Yoongi waiting for you at home. Sweet Yoongi who loved you, and was saving himself for you like the pure angel he is.

You looked up at the soft dark eyes of the man above you now. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu.

“Jungkook” You exhaled as his lips began kissing over your shirt, down the valley of your breasts, lifting your shirt so he could kiss your stomach. “I…I have a boyfriend”

“You’re really committed to this huh?” He chuckled, taking some of his fingers and slowly circling under the waistline of your shorts. You blinked a few times to try to react to what was happening but your body was overwhelmed. It had been so long since you were touched like this.

“Please” You said loudly, so loudly that Jungkook barely hears the “don’t do this” that followed in a whisper.

Jungkook thought back to the night you took his virginity. It hadn’t been on his agenda, he was content following you around and jacking off to your social media accounts every night. That night had changed him. He had realized then that he was messed up. He realized he needed help and he sought it out. A few years of therapy had done him good. He felt guilty about it for a while, but eventually had to grow and move on. He would never act like that again.

But here he was.

And there you were. Below him again. Begging for him through your actions and pushing him away with your words.

Emotions overwhelmed you. Your heart wrenched at the bitter guilt that you were doing the unthinkable. They very thing that you would condemn about other couples. How could you? How could you cheat? But your body was whimpering.

“I have a boyfriend. He’s so good to me. He’s so amazing, and I…I love” You let out a sob as he allowed his hips to roll into you, giving you friction you had craved for so long, “Jungkook…please” You knew he was reading between the lines. You knew he heard your consent, and that disgusted you.

“Mmm I know baby. I know you love him” Jungkook sighed as he pulled down your shorts, “Tell me about him baby. Tell me how much you love him” He began kissing your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.

“He’s so—ahhh” Jungkook took his tongue and pushed aside your underwear to lick a long stripe between your legs. “So good. So fucking…mmmmhhh” You squealed as Jungkook shoved his tongue inside you. The sensation was heavy in your core, but the sensation drove you wild. He flicked his tongue around, almost too easily being able to find all the right places to make you twitch and moan his name.

“Do you want my cock pretty baby? Hmm?” He whispered teasingly, his voice muffling against you as he continued to eat you out. You yelped as he sucked on your clit and nodded your head dumbly. “My little girl so desperate for cock she’d cheat on her boyfriend hm?” He came up for air, your juices messily spread across his lips, his eyes shot with lust.

“Don’t…don’t say that” You whined. Jungkook nodded before pulling off his sweater. You traced his muscles with your fingers, so defined and beautifully tan as he shrugged off his jeans. He took his glasses off and folded them carefully but you grabbed his hand.

“Keep them on…your glasses…” Jungkook’s eyes widened in amusement.

“Why” He teased.

“I like them. I like them a lot. You remind me of someone I used to like” Jungkook’s blood ran cold.

Did you remember?

Did you remember the way he had pinned you up against your kitchen wall back then? The way he left hickies all over your body, marking you as his. The way he had entered you for the first time, with you sprawled out across your dining table, then again on the counter tops, then again from behind pressed up against the window.

Did you remember how many times you both came? It was like a sex fest of hours and hours. In your mouth, on your face, on your tits and buried deep in your cunt, the condom barely surviving the pressure of his seed.

Did you remember the way you cried after in his arms, unable to walk? The way he held you and kissed you softly, apologizing.

Did you remember how he had given you pills so you would forget, hoping that you wouldn’t be sad any longer?

Jungkook had been too lost in thought to notice that you had pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, pulling his neck down so you could kiss him.

“Jungkook” You gasped as he finally regained consciousness and dragged his fingers across your pussy.

“Will you ride me baby?” His eyes twinkled in his request and you were more than happy to indulge him. Jungkook switched positions with you. You reverse cowgirled him, unknowingly, the perfect position for Yoongi to see all of you as you fucked yourself silly onto Jungkook’s cock.

You lowered yourself down on him slowly, savoring the stretch that you had almost forgotten you could ever feel. Your fingers could never give you a sensation quite like this. Jungkook shut his eyes and tried to savor the feeling.

“Pretty…pretty baby” He cooed, sitting up so he could nibble your shoulder and hold your hips as he bounced you slowly on his cock.

“Tell me something” He exhaled, feeling himself slowly approaching his orgasm, the feeling of your soft, warm walls around him too much to bear, “Did you want this because of me…or did you just need cock?”

You continued thrusting yourself back into him, the firm hold of his hands on you giving you an arousing sense of comfort. You wiggled your ass, liking the way he would grunt when you did.

“Did you want me baby? Did you do this for me?”

You cried out suddenly, feeling a long awaited orgasm overwhelming your senses. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened as he tried to keep fucking you through it, your body going limp, twitching erraticly.

“So pretty…my sweet sweet girl” He turned your head to kiss your lips, slipping his tongue in and relishing in the love you poured in through your actions. He caressed your breasts and continued to thrust up into you.

“Come inside me” You exhaled softly.

“No y/n…that wouldn’t be right” Jungkook was reminded of the eerily intimidating presence of the man who was paying him to do this. He slowly brought his thrusts to a halt before helping you up off of him, his cock still painfully erect. “I can finish myself”

You pouted, watching him drill his graze into your naked presence, violently stroking his cock. He licked his lips shamelessly.

“I don’t love you anymore y/n” He whispered too softly for you to hear, “I’m over you. I’m over this. This doesn’t mean anything—AAAAhhh” Your mouth was on his cock and that was all it took for him to come harder than he ever had.

He took you into his arms, wrapping them around you and kissing your face over and over again, caressing your hips and trying to relax your muscles so you wouldn’t be sore.

You reached for your phone as Jungkook began to fill the silence.

“Yoongi seems really great. He clearly cares about you a lot. I’m really happy for you, genuinely” He says softly, “I’m honestly really impressed he let this happen”

But you didn’t hear him, all you could hear was your heart drumming loudly in your ears as you saw the stream of notifications on your phone. Your heart dropping like a bomb when you saw the single message you dreaded more than anything.

yoongi: what’s this? <link>

And linked was a live stream of the events that had just transpired.

masterlist                                                       next----->

A/N: im just cackling at #y/nisoverparty HAHA um stream film out! woohoo

[letsloveimagines]

Title: Forever

Pairing: Corpse Husband x female!reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: How about one where Corpse proposes? With flowers and everything! Like he went out of his comfort zone to propose to you in public because he felt like you deserved it!

Word Count: 2225

Warnings: luff and some swearing

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also, I will not make anything to make Corpse uncomfortable, if he ends saying he doesn’t like fanfiction about him, I will delete this.

                                                           ♦⋅☆⋅♦

The little black box, with that important thing hidden inside, weighed in the pocket of his dark jeans as he headed for her condo. Corpse's breathing was fast, his hands were shaking immensely, and his heart was beating fast, so fast that it seemed to want to escape his chest.

He strode, always faster than anyone, avoiding people who came in the opposite direction as far away as possible. The further away the better.

Swallowing hard feeling a lump in his throat, Corpse looked at the sky, which at that moment was a sea of red, orange and yellow, indicating that it would not be long before dark and for the moon to replace the sun.

Grabbing his phone and watching the time, he quickened his pace even more, playing with the rings on his long fingers and feeling his back cold with the nervous sweat.

He was ready, however, and he was sure that Y/N was the one. Since that day they met at the small cafe, he knew she was his forever. That day Corpse had risked going out for the first time in a very long time, trying to win even though he knew he would never really be able, at least not as he almost did now with her. That red-haired employee looked at him bored - certainly tired and dissatisfied with his own life, but who wasn’t? - his deep voice stuttering nervously as he tried to place the order. He succeeded there, and the minutes that it took the employee to complete it were truly terrifying. He said a small thank you, handed over the money, and in the moment he took the cup his hands were shaking so much that he thought he was going to drop it. Everyone was looking at him, Corpse was able to feel their gaze and there was nothing he wanted to do but disappear from there. But then an angel came up to him, gently touched his hands assuring him that everything was fine, and offering him a big, beautiful smile that made him dreamy for the rest of the day. Cliché he had the notion of that, but so incredibly good that remembering it makes him feel butterflies in his belly.

The memory was long enough to reach its destination, and the nerves tripled at the moment he saw the condominium of white and brown buildings. He was quick to send a message to let her know that he was already there, and it didn't take long to receive one in exchange of her saying she was going down as fast as she could.

Corpse took a deep breath, leaning against the wall with the white paint a little chipped and in need of a new coat of paint, and reached into his pocket feeling the velvet box stroking his fingerprints. It was still there, safe and heavy with all hopes for a bright future.

"Hey, love." Y/N’s sweet voice sounded nearby, along with the sound of her elegant footsteps.

"Hey, babe.." Corpse greeted pulling the mask away slightly - he couldn't get out without it, even on that very important day - and kissed his girlfriend's black-colored lips (she started to like seeing herself in black since they were together). It was a gentle kiss but full of longing and security, and especially full love. Her lips tasted like blackberries, which he loved, and the black lipstick helped to highlight the beautiful features of her face that only left him even more enchanted. How he was lucky enough to have someone so wonderful in his shitty life? This was something that Corpse questioned every day…

Y/N's eyes were bright when they pulled away and she smiled sweetly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I missed you."

"As did I, baby. Where do you want to go?"

"I thought it would be good for us to take a little walk."

"Are you sure? We can stay home if you want to, or if you don’t feel comfortable." Oh, how he loved her. Y/N was so understanding and attentive, and if she was another girl, she would have left his sorry ass a long time ago. And yes, Corpse was uncomfortable being on the outside, in plain sight, but it was something he wanted to do for her.

"I'm sure, let's go. It will be dark soon."

Y/N was quick to get to his left side, interlacing their fingers when they joined hands, Corpse's bigger hand practically swallowing hers.

Without further ado they began to walk calmly, Corpse remembering to slow down knowing that it would be difficult for his girlfriend to keep up with his hurried pace.

"I was thinking that we could go to dinner at that restaurant that you like." He informed her. It was a small and quiet restaurant, and they had been there before. It had gone well and without any problem. That was how he wanted it that night.

"Sure, I'd love it as long as it's okay with you." Y/N looked at him again with an uncertain look.

Corpse stroked her small hand. "I'll be fine as long as I'm with you."

The pink tone on her cheeks and the passionate smile with which she presented him made it all worthwhile.

On the way to the restaurant they talked about their days. Y/N told him how it had been a little busy day (she was a graphic designer) and she had already finished the cover of a fantasy book, and given it to the writer when he decided he wanted to change something at the last minute. She managed to do so, but not without feeling that she would tear her hair out in frustration. Corpse pulled her closer to him and assured her that everything was fine, that she was great at what she did and that better days would come.

He was telling her about the two-hour stream playing with the friends he had made, and the music he was writing, when they finally arrived.

They went in, asked for a table further away and without much trouble went to sit in their seats, with the menu on the wooden table waiting for them. There was no need to look though, whenever they went there they asked for the same thing, so that's what they did. She ordered spaghetti bolognese and for him just a vegetable soup with chicken. To accompany, they ordered a small bottle of wine. Corpse's left leg swung quickly, while discreetly touching his pocket.

"Is everything alright, baby?" She asked at the same time that the food was being served.

"Yes, don't worry."

Y/N didn’t stop looking at him with concern, but she did not insist. While they ate they were talking about nothing and everything, enjoying the feeling of being in public in what had been a long time. The restaurant was almost empty, with just another couple at a distant table with their backs to them, which made him more comfortable. It was small with the floor, tables and chairs all in wood, with brick walls with a rustic effect, and small iron lamps lighting the place almost lovingly.

Time passed and Corpse's nervousness only grew. They ate and drank wine, enjoyed dessert, and were happy and smiling.

Corpse was helping Y/N to put on the black leather jacket - her outfit consisted of comfortable shoes, red pants and a cute black tank top, as well as the delicate shamrock necklace he had given her on their one year anniversary -, when she questioned him curiously. "We are going home now?

"Let's go out for a little while." The beautiful girl's surprised look did not escape him, even he was surprised that he was succeeding to do that.

They left the restaurant after paying and ventured into the city, holding hands and full of soft words. Every now and then, Y/N would lift his hand to her lips and give a small kiss on the skin full of protruding veins.

The stars shone in the middle of the night, the moon was full and round, high and illuminating the path to the park. There were wooden benches every few meters, tall street lamps peeking out near the trees and the round lake by the children's swing. Y/N used to go there in her childhood.

They sat on the grass by the lake, their feet immersed in the cold water that reflected the moon. They were silent for a moment, completely at peace watching the couple of swans swimming nearby, gently cutting the water and with their long white necks almost intertwined.

It was now. Now was the moment.

"Y / N…"

"Yes, Corpse?" She looked at him with the stars shining in her eyes, and leaving him speechless.

Corpse’s heart sped up, blood pounded in his ears and his hands trembled when he opened his coat and removed the flower he had protected in the inner pocket. The black rose was in perfect condition, sparkling with the small silver particles that embellished the petals.

He handed it over to Y/N, who accepted her happily with a smile almost as big as his love for her.

"Oh, babe, it's beautiful! Thank you so much."

He smiled shyly, with extremely sweaty palms, and watched as the girl in front of him admired the flower, without knowing that she was also being admired by him.

"I do not deserve you." He said at last, immediately regretting it seeing her smile fading.

"What are you saying?"

"I-"

"Babe, you’re really scaring me right now. What's going on?" Y/N's gentle hands came to his face, taking off his mask (which was fine by him because he trusted her absurdly, and they were alone), and caressed the skin of his cheeks with concern.

"Let me talk before I turn myself into a coward once again. I don't deserve you, I have a full sense of that, you're too good for me and kinder than anyone will ever be. I'm not a religious person, my life didn't allow me to be , but since we’re together I pray every day that you would not wake up one day, and realize that it’s not me who you want by your side."

"It will never happen, you are everything I ever wanted." She whispered.

"I am not... but you are what I always desired." He smiled. "You take my problems when you shouldn't, you help me and you take care of me. I can talk to you about everything because I know my secrets with you are safe. You support me when I doubt myself, and you do it all without asking for anything in return. "

"I just want your love."

Corpse kissed her, feeling the soft brush of her lips against his. Just a simple kiss from her was enough to calm him down for good. "You already have it." He assured her, then touched the velvet box and took it out of his pocket. Y/N's shocked sigh filled the air, and she raised her hands to her mouth. "And I know that I will never be enough, that I will never be good enough... But I will try. From sunrise to bedtime I swear to love you and try to make you happy every day. And if one day I don't, I know that I wasted the best thing I have in my fucking life... "

The tears overflowed from her eyes, sliding down her face in rivers of happiness. "Corpse…"

Corpse opened the box showing her what he had been hiding for several months. It was a simple ring - too simple for her in the boy's opinion, but that was how she liked it - made of silver with an oval diamond in the middle, flanked by two smaller ones in square shape, and many smaller ones around it, embellishing the circle.

"Y/N…" He sighed deeply, more sure than ever in his life, even though trying to control his anxiety. "Do you want to marry me?"

The girl threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and crying in his chest. "Yes, yes! Of course I do! Of course I want to marry you."

He laughed happily and deeply, smiling so much that he thought the corners of his lips must reach his ears. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her perfume and murmuring how much he loved her... But mainly thanking her for loving him.

After a few minutes of laughter and sobbing, Y / N walked away with red, wet cheeks and slightly swollen eyes, but looking more beautiful than ever.

"How long…?"

"Much too long." Gently he took her hand and stuck the engagement ring on her left ring finger, where it glowed as if it belonged there. "I should have done this a long time ago."

"It's beautiful." Y/N said in admiration. "I love you."

"Not more than I love you."

They shared another kiss, this one longer than the others, and left their foreheads gently touching each other, with their eyes closed and wanting to record the moment forever in their memory.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"I’m the one who should be thanking you…"

"I knew you were forever. I've known it since that day at the cafe."

"Yes…" Y/N agreed. "Forever."

                                                           ♦⋅☆⋅♦ Tag List: @breathygasps @unicornblood4ever @jay-jay-love @mintchip17 

[cjsinkythoughts]

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you. 

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps  giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff. 

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted  your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?” 

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands. 

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

[lovelyirony]

I am a HUGE winteriron shipper so if that's acceptable for you could you do a fic, however short or long you want with winteriron and the prompt: Russian Bucky. That's it. Russian Bucky. How, why, is up to you but that's the prompt! Thank you!

Bucky does not like that he’s in America again. Even if he is really only here to act as security for Natasha’s new art showing. 

It’s loud, friendly, and he just wants to drink in silence. People never stop talking. 

Natasha’s first night is all the exclusive donors and previous buyers. He knows some of the people. Bruce is actually his favorite American because he’s awkward and doesn’t like talking anyways, but he has a great way with reviews for art and placement of it. 

There’s Clint, who’s a disaster who bought him a tiny bottle of shitty vodka and said “welcome to America! Please don’t kill me,” and Bucky’s not honestly sure why he’s invited because he’s very broke. 

“He entertains me,” Natasha says, scarlet lips pulling into a grin as he watches him nearly trip and fall over an untied shoelace. “And he’s...fun. Very American.” 

“Didn’t know your type was Americans,” Bucky mutters. “The first thing I know you to have bad taste in.” 

“Oh, as if your type is any better,” Natasha mutters.

“And what is my type, exactly?” 

“You don’t have one,” Natasha says glibly, “because you prefer staying forever alone and broody.” 

“I’m not broody.” 

“Your all-black outfit begs difference,” Sharon calls, grinning. “Hey Buck, long-time no-see.” 

“Hi Sharon,” Bucky says, smiling slightly. 

He sees Steve behind her, almost looking like a golden retriever. They had served together in the army when they were young, and Bucky’d had to drag that stupid boy out of too many fights. 

It made them best friends, almost like brothers, and it’s the only reason why he usually adventures out to America. 

“Missed seeing you,” Steve says, bringing him into a hug. “There’s only so many times Sharon will tolerate sushi with me.” 

“He claims that it’s a miracle food,” Sharon says, rolling her eyes. “I just think he likes it because you like it.” 

“I do not!” Steve teases. “Hey, Natasha.” 

“Hey stranger,” Nat says, grinning. “Surprised to see you out of running shorts and tank tops.” 

“You don’t only see me when I’m running,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “You come to see Sharon about every week.” 

“Yeah but I only have eyes for her,” Natasha says, winking. 

“Stop flirting with my wife.” 

“Then stop being married to such a beautiful woman.” 

Sharon snorts, looking down at her phone, and then back up at Nat. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I need to let my cousin in. He’s the one I told you about who liked your newspaper collage-work.” 

Natasha looks over at Bucky for a moment and oh no. She has her match-making look on her. 

“I think you’ll like Tony,” she says grinning. 

“I’m sure he’ll be a good client of yours,” Bucky responds, lips pressing into a straight line. “I don’t need to be dating, Romanov.” 

“Ooh last name, how scary,” she teases. 

Tony is....American. 

He’s already laughing loudly with Sharon about some sort of in-joke, and walks right up to Natasha with a smile. 

“Miss Romanov, you look as wonderful as your art. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.” 

He then kisses the top of her hand and starts into conversation about how he discovered her art from his assistant, Pepper, and he thought it would be a good fit for his personal home. 

Bucky stays in the background, hoping that this talkative machine would follow along with Nat and distract her for an hour or two. 

And then she turns. 

“Tony...have you met Bucky Barnes? He runs security.” 

“I haven’t,” Tony says, smiling. “Nice to meet you. Your parents name you after a family member?” 

“President,” Bucky answers stiffly. 

“And here I thought you were Russian.” 

“I am. They just hated communism.” 

Tony barks out a laugh. 

“Well, come. Look at art with us and tell me more about yourself.” 

“No,” Bucky states. He then turns on his heel and walks away. 

No sense in giving this guy hope. 

But he’s undeterred. 

While he maintains his space, he still talks to Bucky throughout the event. 

He comes back the next day with two robots to help wrap the works. 

“What,” Bucky says, looking at the two creatures who seem to be bickering. 

“They’re fighting over who gets to put the bow on it,” Tony says. “Dummy, put the bow on. You, I’ll give you a bow to put on. No sense in fighting.” 

“You named them ‘Dummy’ and ‘You’?” 

“Spelled differently,” Tony says. “Dum-E is just...he likes to make oil smoothies, and U has opinions about the alphabet arrangement. Don’t ask them about it. But how are you doing, Bucky?” 

“Fine.” 

“Only fine? We’ll have to change that. Let me take you out for a burger?” 

“No. I don’t like American food. Or Americans.” 

“Can’t blame you there,” Tony says with a sigh, but grins anyways. “Let me know if you do change your mind at all though, Barnes.” 

Yeah, he won’t be. 

-

Except that Nat likes America, and he thinks she found a muse in Clint, because she told Bucky that she’s staying in America for the next six months at least. 

“I hate you,” he says, cursing her out. “Why here?!” 

“Why not?” Natasha says. “Their winters are similar, if not nicer. Besides, you can be friends with Steve and not have to see anyone else besides Clint. And maybe Tony. I like Tony.” 

“Why do you like him?” Bucky groans. “He talks too quickly. He is too American. I don’t trust his teeth.” 

“Don’t trust his dentist then, not the teeth,” she responds with a shrug. “And I like him because he’s good people. Even if he doesn’t seem it. Keep an eye on him for me when he’s around, okay?” 

“What, afraid he’ll overpay for your work again?” 

“I’d like that,” Natasha muses, thinking about the obscene amount of money he had sent her way, under the guise of “her having too much immense talent not to.” 

It was enough to give Bucky quite the generous raise, which was appreciated. But he still didn’t like him. 

-

Tony becomes integrated into their lives with ease. 

He likes improving Clint’s building, checking in on Nat, and invading Bucky’s space. 

It’s not all bad. Sometimes Tony gives him a hot dog, which is good. 

“You’re going to go rail-thin at this rate,” Tony says, shoving a baguette into his hands. “Who goes grocery shopping for you? Mice? Why do you have, like, miniscule portions? I know that Russia is different, but you still get fed.” 

“We sacrifice half our food to the leader of Mother Russia,” Bucky deadpans. “And then we get our yearly tracksuit in return.” 

Tony laughs, and Bucky kind of likes making him laugh. 

Not in that way. Don’t go thinking that. 

“Well, regardless. I think you’re almost conning me into doing this.” 

“What, me? Getting free food? A whole baguette? I don’t think so,” Bucky says. “But next time, give me soup.” 

Tony laughs again. 

-

Bucky didn’t think he’d take him seriously. 

“I wasn’t sure what soups you like or if you have allergies, so I brought four different soups,” he answers. 

“Tony, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Silence Ice-Pop,” Tony shushes. “This one is black-bean soup, this one is broccoli-cheddar, this one is your standard chicken-noodle, and this one is French onion...” 

“Well come on in, then,” Bucky sighs. “You’re gonna have to help me finish this soup.” 

-

He doesn’t know why he does it. 

But Tony’s bodyguard had a surprise funeral, can’t make it to a high-up event for Tony, and so Bucky volunteers. 

It’s a charity, one that Tony never misses. Ever. 

Natasha asks him to do it. 

“I know you’ll complain and bitch, but genuinely he-” 

“I already told him I’d go,” Bucky says. “Texted him.” 

“You have his number?” Natasha questions, brows furrowing. “I thought you hated him.” 

“Gave me soup. Can’t hate a guy who gives you soup.” 

“Holy shit, are you gonna marry him?” 

“Why would I marry him?” Bucky splutters. “What, because I accepted soup?” 

“One time a guy called you cute, and you told him that he needed to stop revealing so much about himself because you could kill him,” Nat said. “You haven’t even threatened Tony’s life yet! I can’t believe I didn’t put it together! You like-” 

“Do not finish that sentiment,” Bucky threatens. “Do not, if you do-” 

“You like him!” 

“I don’t!” Bucky hisses. “I do not like an American!” 

“You do!” Natasha proclaims, laughing. “Oh my god! You like an American!” 

“Shut up!” Bucky groans. “I hate myself!” 

Natasha cannot stop laughing, wheezing on the couch. “Holy shit!” 

“Do not tell him,” Bucky begs. “Don’t tell anybody.” 

“You’re such a nerd,” Natasha snorts. “I won’t tell anybody for two months. But you have to tell him.” 

“I don’t have to tell him shit,” Bucky scowls. 

“I think you do. I think he could potentially like you.” 

“No. I’ll get over it.” 

Natasha gives him a flat look. 

“You can’t just ‘get over’ a crush.” 

“Yes I can. I’m Russian. We can do it.” 

“No,” Natasha says simply. “Two months, Yasha! Two months!” 

...great. 

Now he has to deal with liking an American. 

[wthcew]

JayTim, flirting, falling in love and cuddles and JJ Tim who gor adopted by Harley and Ivy pretty please??

Sweetie, you just jumped on my train of JJ fics, I hope you don't mind that I added a little bit of smut

I'm so sorry it took me that long to write it, I hope you like it!

_____________________________________________

30 days

_____________________________________________

The first time he heard about it he was under the ground. He felt like he was choking, his helmet somewhere unknown and with it his communication with Oracle. He isn't talking to B (not after he chose the fucking Joker over him) but he does help Nightwing sometimes, and oh, did he wished right now that he would have never let Dick in his safehouse.

Nightwing and Red Hood were about to bust a drag ring, but the thing is, it was an ambush, so now they're both under ground, Hood's leg impaled to the ground by an iron pillar from one of the walls that exploded and that they're buried under, his helmet in an unknown place and 'wing trying to call for help.

Jason tried to slow his breath but being under ground is bringing back bad memories (He can't breathe, he's locked, and all he want right now is his dad-) of being six feet under and he's hysterical- because everything is hurting and broken and half his face are burned and he can't breathe so please, please he just want his dad, "please dad come save me"-

He's so gone into his mind, letting his panic control him that he's flinching away when Dick touching his shoulder, but it's pulling him out of his head (and just when did the tears started to spill out of his eyes?), and Dick is looking at him, the whites lenses of his domino mask are gone and instead Jason's getting those blue eyes that are full with concern.

"It's okay Jay" Dick smiled at him, a small smile that somehow made Jason believe that it's okay. "B and baby bat are on their way right now," Dick's hand found Jason's and he squeezed it in reassuring. Jason returned the squeeze. "We will be fine"

...

"Did someone ever told you about the kid who almost killed Joker?" Dick asked after couple minutes of silence, when Jason's breath is under control and he isn't so much as hysterical as he was couple of minutes before.

Jay turned his head to Dick, "No" his voice was hoarse, too hoarse for his own ears but Dick didn't seems to mind, he just nodded his head and smiled softly at him.

"He was thirteen years old back then, Joker took him, when Babs still was Batgirl" And at that moment Dick's comn beeped and after five minutes they were out of the ground, Bruce and Damian next to Dick, checking if he's fine while Jason took his helmet, the hole in his leg isn't that bad and when Dick looking at him the Red Hood already swing away.

_____________________________________________

The second time he heard about it was because he wanted to, he was curious and he wanted to know what happened to the kid, what made a thirteen years old kid almost kill the Joker.

So, he was on his couch, his leg bandaged and a cup of hot tea on the coffe table, his laptop open and working and the reading lamp's orange light made his shadow look like some villain from kids cartoon.

It's hard to find anything about it but he is (A bat) Red Hood, if he wants to he'll find out what happened back then. And he want to.

So Jason cracked his fingers and started to work.

The seconds became to minutes that became to hours of work and clicking on his keyboard, it's hard to find anything because apparently this whole story is shushed and all Jason gathered until now came from a video of the news report and all they said there was that Joker broke out of Arkham and decided he wanted a son, kidnapped some unlucky kid and deleted the boy's personality with electrical shocks until he becamed Joker Junior, and then he kept torturing the kid until the Batman and Batgirl found the kid, broken minded and holding a gun to Joker's head.

It was quite the story, but Jason didn't know what happened later, who the kid was or what happened to him.

But he will, just to know if the kid's okay. Or to ask why he hadn't pulled the trigger..

So he kept digging, looking for anything that may conect to the story. And that's how Jason found himself reading article about Jack and Jent Drake disowning their only child Tim Drake. The kid was only thirteen back then, and all he took before he took off from the face of earth was a stuffed Kola and a camra.

And it may be his curiosity about this because he don't remember the kid and apparently they were neighbors or the JJ thing but he knows that he'll find Tim Drake.

_____________________________________________

Jent Drake died two years after she disowned Tim in a car crash, her husband got depressed and started looking for Tim to reown him but then he met Dana Winters.

There was some love story there that Jason wasn't really that interested in reading but in the end they married and left Gotham, never coming back. And the most annoying thing is, that Tim was never found.

But he did found out that there was some kid that helped Harley and Ivy sometimes, he had a faded red hoodie and faded green jeans.

The hoodie's hat always hiding his face and from the little Jason saw, his skin was more white than normal human skin.

Jason couldn't find a lot of photos of the kid but he did find one of Harley hugging the kid.

Jason looked at the photo, it was fuve years old, when Tim desperate and all the JJ thing happened. The way he held himself was familiar to Jason, something deep in his mind, memories that he couldn't remember, but it was there, and Jason knows that this Tim kid is JJ who is also somehow Harley's kid.

_____________________________________________

"I need your help"

"Oh that's nice, what aby 'hey Babs, how was your day? Did Dick pissed you off and going to sleep on the couch tonight? Can you please help me with this thing?'"

Jason smiled, shifting the phone that was pressed against his ear "What did Dick did?"

"He was a dick"

"How was your day?"

"What did you wanted help with Jay?"

"Clown boy"

"Hmm?"

"Joker Junior"

A sharp breath "What about him?"

"You know who he is?"

"We found him after he took a dip in the acid, and he was dressed like the Joker, too much make up, green hair, purple suit, couldn't recognise him"

"But you know don't you?"

"Batman doesn't know"

"Well you're Oracle not Batman. It's simple question O, you know? Yes or no?"

"I know"

"I think I know too"

"Who do you think it is?"

"Tim Drake"

"..Yes it's him"

"Why didn't you told Bruce?

"He's a good kid"

"He's with Harley now"

"Tim isn't bad"

"Babs, if he's Joker Junior and he's with Harley he can't be that good"

"Jay, Harley and Ivy gave me the tip to find him and Harley took him in after his parents disowned him, he may be stilling sometimes or helping Harley and Ivy but he is good"

"You kept tabs on him?"

"He's smart, he may have lost a lot of his memories because of the Joker and he is crazy but he have support"

"Does Bruce know you're helping hiding him?"

"No, and he wouldn't. Not until Tim decided that it's fine"

"You're in contact?"

"We're just talking, I'm sending him puzels and riddles and it's helping him keep clean mind"

"Can I talk to him?"

"I can't tell you where he is but I also can't stop you from doing this"

"Thank you Babs"

"Not a problem Jaybird"

_____________________________________________

It was a week later that Jason walked into a small unnoticed coffee shop.

The design of the place gave him a feeling of happiness, like it was some kind of home.

He looked through everyone there, couple next to the window, three old ladies sitting in a table for four, chatting and laughing, couple of collage students sitting with something to eat and something warm to drink and typing on their laptops, and on the farthest side of the coffee shop, in a table for two, sat a teen, his hands paler than any human skin, his long hair hiding his face, a coffee cup in front of him and his legs shacking.

"Hello! Can I help you?" A cheerful voice called from the cashier desk, he put on a smile on his face and turned to see a black haired girl, with a big smile on her face.

"Yeah, do you have Eral Gray?"

"We do! Anything else with this?"

"No, thank you"

"Okay, just a minute"

When he got his cup he paid the girl murmuring a "Thank you" and walking to Tim.

When he sat down in front of the teen, icy blue eyes looked at his face, and his breath hitched when he saw the little cuts on at each end of his mouth, creating a smile.

"Hey" Jason said, smiling at Tim.

"Hey.." Tim's voice almost didn't reached his ears and Jason's smile grew wider when Tim smiled at him. A shy little amazing smile.

"I'm Jason"

"T-Tim"

"Nice to meet you"

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted tea"

"You aren't scared?" Tim's eyes looked a bit insane when he said the last word, his smile grew wider and he leaned closer to the table. The cuts on his face and his pale skin made him look like Joker but there was also something else there, something in his eyes that said 'Pleas don't be scared' and Jason swallowed and forced his nerves to calm down.

"No, you actually seems nice"

Tim blinked once.

Twice.

And then his smile became nicer, less dangerous and more shy. He relaxed and took a sip from his coffee.

Jason smiled, sipping from his own cup while making a note in his head to be careful with this one.

They drank a couple more cups together, chatting about nothing in particular and when Tim excused himself and left, Jason found a paper next to the cup.

He opened it because of his dammed curiosity and bis breath hitched.

'Ha ha ha'

_____________________________________________

It was in the middle of the night, the streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

His parents just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But sometimes he wonders if he'll ever be good enough for them to stay. If he'll ever be good enough so his mother wouldn't need to hiss his name through clench teeth and his father to hit him.

Maybe he would never be good enough..

In those nights when he wonders about it, he goes to a walk. It's always makes him calm and shuts his mind down. It's leaving him with the feeling of wholenesses, like some how the wind that hit his body in cold sharp hit is welcoming, or the cold of the night is like his stuffed Kola -the one he got from Bruce Wayne In a gala that his parents hosted when he was four and since then he hides it from his parents and hugging it when he need comfort- or like the silence out here is better than the silence inside the empty house.

And maybe, just maybe hr would see his heros.

And as Tim kept walking he could barely hear this cursed laugh, followed by the soft like song-

Mary had a little lamb

Little lamb, little lamb

Mary had a little lamb...

"Cutie pie?" His mama's voice rang, it was muffled but it was still there. "I'm hearing laughing, it's a good joke?"

A knock on his door "Sweetheart?" His laugh grew and his eyes burned, tears dropping from his eyes.

"Timmy?"

He hugged his legs to his chest, laughing and crying and this song is stuck in his head and he can't stop it and-

"Mary had a little lamb"

Mama's hands are around him, hugging him and petting his hair "Shhh shh shh, everything's fine baby, I'm here"

He can't breathe and the song is on full volume in his head but mama's here and mama is safety, she's safety. He's safe. Safe

_____________________________________________

"What the hell were you thinking?" Oracle's voice rang through the comn in his helmet.

"You need to be more specific than that O"

"Tim blocked me, Selina is mad at Bruce because one of his kids hurt her niece, Harley and Tim are nowhere to be found and Selina and Ivy are planning something"

"I didn't hurt Tim and I don't know why you told ma all the other stuff"

"Hood, Tim's smart, maybe too much smart but his mind is broken, he's crazy and genius"

"Okay and..?"

"He wants to go -and I’m quoting him- Boom he always wanted everyone to know that he's Harley's kid, and I always made him take more time, think about it more the fact that he blocked me means that I can't tell him to sit back anymore"

"You can remove it though"

"I did, and he just throw his phone away"

"So I broke him?"

"No, Joker broke him you just set him off"

"Shit"

"Yes. Shit"

_____________________________________________

"Wohhooo" Was shout out to the sky as Tim set in shopping cart, Harley -in her rollerblades- holding the handles of the cart, and they're both 'driving' down a road, laughing.

The air hit Tim's face in the best way he could have ever imagined and he laughed so hard that his cheedk burned, and maybe he ripped his stiches oncr again today but he dosen't care.

He is happy. So, so happy, like he was with this hot guy in the coffee shop, before his meltdown.

But right now, right now it's all this.

His mama and him, having fun, his mom and aunty kitty somewhere doing her own thing and everything's okay.

He laughed again as they started to speed up, the wind throwing his hair in any direction possible.

After a few minutes they cane to a stop, his mama's smile is so loving and he hopes that his smile is loving as well.

"Come on sweetie, let's do it" Harley smiled as she gave him the lighter, he jumped out of the cart and lit the lighter, his eyes sparking as the fire started spreading.

Tim and Harley walked away because they're crazy not stupid.

There faces lit up as the fireworks blew and flew to the sky.

Harley hugged him from behind and he relaxed into his mama's touch, watching the fireworks becoming to words that are shining over Gotham's sky.

30 days

_____________________________________________

"Hey Hoodie" A cheerful voice called from behind him.

Red Hood turned around, a gun in his hand just to be met with Tim's lovely smile.

"Chill, chill" The teen said, holding his hands up "I'm not going to hurt you"

"What do you want?" Hood asked, lowering his gun.

"We have never met have we?" Tim said, his smile calm

"I don't think so"

"No, but I did met Robin"

"So you met the Demon"

Tim frowned "No. The second one."

"Don't know him"

"Red Hood can't meet Robin II"

"And why's that?"

"Robin II's dead, dad killed him" Tim shock his head "I don't like dad, I liked Robin II and dad did it because it's funny. It's not!"

Tim looked so frustrated, his eyes big and he's looking at Jason like he hope that he would understand that and, something in Jason change, his face are softer under the helmet and-

"Okay Tim, I know you aren't the Joker."

"I didn't met *you* but we did met, I know Robin and I know Jason and now I know Red Hood?"

"You know who I am"

"No, no no no!" Tim looked him straight in the eyes, like he could see his face behind the helmet "You're Red Hood now, you were Robin and you always were Jason but now you Red Hood, I don't know Red Hood!"

"Okay, okay, relax, you don't know Red Hood, that's fine"

"I need to know Red Hood"

"Why?"

"Because I need Red Hood to help me"

"You need help?"

"Yes"

"Okay, but why Red Hood?"

"Because.. Ummm because- Because of Dad! I need Red Hood to help me kill dad"

To kill.. the Joker.

To kill the Joker.

The Joker dead.

'Yes'

"I would help you, Red Hood and Jason, okay?"

Tim nodded "Yeah, okay."

The sky started to glow and they both looked up, looking at fireworks that formed

29 days

_____________________________________________

It was so logical and simple that Jason almost laugh.

He sat next to Tim in some small safehouse, looking at Tim up and down as he was solving Sudoku.

They're waiting for the others to decide exactly who will go in and kill this son of a bitch and aho will make sure that everyone else will be present in that day.

They are waiting for Tim's small family, and Jason smiled at the thought of this family, he once had one and then he died and he was replaced by Stephanie Brown who is now Batgirl so they're fine now. But he doesn't have this family now, all he have are some blurred memories.

Tim let out a little "Yay" with a cute, small giggle that made Jason smile.

"Hey!" Tim suddenly said, looking at Jason with big eyes, Jason looked around him, trying to find something that would make Tim look panoco "What-"

"Are you hurt?" Tim's voice was soft and caring and Jasom heart might have skipped a beat, "No?"

"Than why do you have split lip and bruise on your jaw?"

"I've got into a fight, it's not serious" But Tim was there in seconds, his worry eyes looking at Jason's jaw and just wow- Jason swallowed the lump in his throat when Tim's slender finger touched his lip and-

"I've the best thing to help!" Tim pulled away and his finger caressed Jason's lip in a way that made Jason hold his breath.

And in the next moment Tim putted a chocolate bar in his hand, smiling at him "It help!" He said and Jason huffed a laugh, mentally shacking his head.

"Thanks Timmy" Jason said an smile on his face, opening the chocolate and cutting a line.

It was milk chocolate with pop candy and it was amazing, Jason hummed as he ate it, looking at Tim solving a new sudoku.

After the meeting (if it even can be called that) Jason took the rest of the chocolate bar, just to have something sweet after patrol tonight.

_____________________________________________

Jason stripped from his Red Hood gear, stretching his hands out and poping his back.

He took a quick shower and pulled on a sweat pants and grey hoodie from the deep of his closest 'Maybe it's time to do the laundry'.

Jason smiled as the sky were lit in 25 Days and turned the lamp off.

His lip tickled as some kind of reminder that Tim touched him there, he looked so worried and that just warmed Jason's heart.

And that amazing chocolate- maybe he will have to get hurt more just to have it.

He closed hid eyes, ready to fall asleep and then it hit him-

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

He- he have a crush.

_____________________________________________

The sun was in the middle of the sky when Jason woke up, blinking into the darkness because the blinds are close.

He groaned as he stretched his body, still in the bed under the warmth of the fluffy blanket. The sleepiness still has her claws clutching on him and made Jason wonder why the hell his bed isn't as comfy whenever he's trying to sleep but is when he tries to wake up.

He almost fell asleep again, but the *Bam! Bam! Bam!* on his door made him jolt up from the bed, the gun that he hides between the mattress and the bed in his hand, walking to the living room without making a sound, looking through the peep hole.

He huffed in relief, opening the door looking at Dick who smiled at him. "You woke me up you asshole"

"Sorry little wing" But Dick didn't sounded sorry at all and that just made him groan.

Jason followed Dick to the kitchen after Dick let himself in, the door closing behind them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I can't visit my little brother?"

"Not your brother" Jason turned around to the pantry to take out a tea bag just when Dick flinched from the words as if they're physically harming him.

"You're my brother, even if you don't see it like that"

"Dick."

"No! You're my brother, I count you as my brother" Dick snap and Jason would lie if he said that that didn't touched his heart, even if it's not true because in the end Dick have his new little brother and also a sister and it's really is fine that Jason isn't part of his family. It is.

So he didn't reply to it, just let Dick think what he wants to. "Do you want to tell me why you actually came or what?" He asked as he started to boil water.

"I wanted to talk to you"

"About?"

"You said you'd this case, how's it going?"

Jason took the teapot off the gas, pouring the hot water to his glass, "I didn't told anyone that I've a case"

"Well no but Babs told me"

"Babs don't know, and she would have asked if she wanted to know" Jason took a sip from his cup and turned around to glare at the older man "What it really is about?"

"Bruce saw you with Harley and Ivy and their kid and he wants to know what you all doing"

Jason saw red for a moment and them took a calming breath, a long sip from his tea and walked his way toward the island, putting his mug down and glaring at his so called brother.

"So you're here on a mission?" His voice was cold and full with venom.

"N-no!"

Jason raised an eyebrow "You just said it"

"I don't care what B wanted, I came for my brother"

"Damian isn't here"

"Jason!"

"What? You want me to say that you didn't came because Bruce said something on me? You don't want to know what I'm doing with Harley, Ivy and their kid? Ah? That's what you're telling me?"

"I-"

"Ha! And you just said we're brothers!"

"We are Jason"

"No! You have your own little family, I'm not part of it, never was!"

"You are! You always were and you always will be!"

And at that moment Jason saw green, throwing his mug down on the island, the shatterd flew everywhere and the hot water started to drip down to the floor.

And as a last resort Dick yelled "TIM DRAKE!"

It made Jason blink, and look at Dick, "What did you just said?"

"Tim Drake, it's this boy Joker kidnapped, Harley and Ivy's kid"

"How do you know this?"

"Well, family of detectives and all"

"What do you want?"

"Is he threating you?"

"What? No!"

"Jay, you can tell me the truth"

"Oh I can?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Okay so fuck off"

"Wh-what?"

"The truth is that I want you to fuck off and don't ever come back. Bye."

"..Jay.."

"I'll throw you out of the window"

"Okay, okay. But.."

"Go!" _____________________________________________

Tim sat on an air conditioner motor that was on the roof of a building, his legs tangling down, one shoe red with zigzag lines on it and the other one yellow with glitters. His pants in a fading green colour and a black-blue t-shirt. And Jason just looked, glad that his helmet hiding his face as a stupid smile crossed his face.

"Hoodie hood!" Tim's cheerful voice made Jason's smile wider, and Tim pushed himself of the air conditioner motor, when his feet touched the roof his yellow shoe started to sparkle with light, like little kids shoes.

"Hey clown kid" Tim smiled, something sweet and beautiful that made butterflies fly in Jason's belly.

"I don't like this helmet today" Tim said, his hands touching lightly at the sides of the red helmet.

"And why's that?"

"I can't see your hair. I love your hair!"

Jason smiled, Tim was just... just.

"Thanks baby clown, I love your hair too"

"Baby clown?"

"Yup"

"I like it"

"Good"

Tim took Jason's hand in his and started walking them to the air conditioner motor.

They both sat down, Tim's hands now in his lap and Jason opened his helmet, setting it next to him.

Tim looked at him, his blue icy eyes glinted and a small smile on his face. Jason looked right back at him, the blue-green eyes looking like some amazing place that kids are being told about in fairy tales.

Jason don't know who moved first, or what exactly happened. All he knows is that Tim is sitting in his lap, Tim's hands in his hair and Jason hugging him close. There mouths pressing against each other's. Tim's mouth have this amazing chocolate taste, a hint of coffee and Tim.

In the dark sky above of them, the fireworks draw the 18 days.

_____________________________________________

Jason is happy. Like really truly happy. He couldn't stop smiling this stupid love sick smile since the kiss.

He met Tim every patrol and those small kiss were the best, 10/10 would definitely do again.

Tim's cute and smart and he seems to really like Jason which is amazing because Jason really like him too.

None of the Bats came to annoy him, and everything is just amazing. For once in his life everything is just good.

His grapple gun shot to the next building and the cold wind never felt better. As Red Hood's boots hit the roof a "Hey there, love bird" greeted him.

"Cat," He called back, doing a small '*hi*' with his hand "'sup?"

"We need to talk"

"About?"

"Tim"

Jason sat next to her, his legs tangling down from the roof, "You here to give me the talk?"

"Not the talk you think about, I'll that to his moms"

"Then what talk?"

"Are you serious with him?"

"For now.. for now yes" he said with a bit hesitation.

Selina nodded "That's good for me"

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome sweetie, anyway you nrrd to be careful with Timmy"

"I know that, I wasn't born yesterday Cat"

She huffed a laugh, "Oh I know that sweetie, but you still need to know about Tim's past"

"Isn't he supposed to tell me about it? In his own time?"

"He will, I'm going to tell you only things that he won't because it's a trigger for him"

"The torture?"

"Yes, the torture, and what lead to his kidnapping, and it'll give you an idea yo what his parents were like"

Jason looked at her in the eyes, seriousness burns in them. "Okay, let's hear the story" _____________________________________________

His parents left again, it has been hours since the screaming stopped, his cheeks were wet from tears and his eyes red.

He was hiding in the closet, his hands holding his stuffed Kola close, his left arm is numb except for the cut on it, but it's a small cut and he deserved it. He isn't supposed to talk back to his father.

The dry blood on his arm itched and he needs to treat the cut, but he don't want to move. The closest is a safe place because mother and father can't get in.

New tears slipping down his face and he hugs the Kola tighter.

_____________________________________________

When Tim woke up his neck hurt and his left arm felt like a million fire ants stung her.

He opened the closest door, stumbling out of there holding the Kola in one hand, dropping it on his bed and walking to the bathroom, pulling the first aid kit from under the sink, treating his wound with a hiss of pain.

A quick glance out of the window and he knows it's in the middle of the night, and his parents were supposed to stay home for more couple of days but once again they just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But he doesn't have something to do now, and his arm's fine, he can go out and see Batman, and maybe Robin too. Though Robin isn't around a lot now, maybe something happened... _____________________________________________

The streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

The cold wind hit him merciless, but it just made him smile, he loves the winter. It always made him feel better with himself.

His camera clutched in his hands, his black stocking cap falling on his eyes every couple of minutes, and yes it may be annoying but it's also letting him something to do, because tonight he can't find Batman...

What the hour anyway? Maybe he's late and Batman's back in the cave...

And then he could hear it, some quiet voice singing.. Maybe a kid.. What if the kid need help?

"Hello?' he called out, moving closer to the voice, he can hear the words now.

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

He cried out, pain strobes through all hid body, tears on his face and blood run down his chine and neck

This psycho laugh making him shiver and try to run away. This hateful song in the background..

And this voice.. "Come on Little Lamb, be a good son for little old me, and tell me. What's. Your. Name?"

"T-Tim"

He screamed as he got electriced again. _____________________________________________

He is shacking, scared out of his mind, tears rolling down his face. And it doesn't stop.

He can barely breathe, the electrical shock isn't stopping. And Tim is honest to God scared.

He don't know what's next to come, he can't actually believe it's happening and everything- everything hurt.

He can feel himself leaving his body, his heart- _____________________________________________

He woke up, everything is hurting again and the fucking Joker is looking at him, this psychotic smile on his face-

"Welcome back my Little Lamb"

-And this horrible song again

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

"What's your name?"

"Tim!" _____________________________________________

"What's. Your. Name?"

"Ti-" _____________________________________________

"Your name?"

He don't even* know *anymore, and it's really frustrating... _____________________________________________

He is laughing. A manic good laugh. Happy laugh.

He's happy because he remembers who he is and it's funny- why did he forgot anyway?

"What's your name?"

"JJ!" _____________________________________________

He laughed as his dad cut his face open do he'll always smile. He laughed as dad throw him to the acid. He laughed as dad painted his hair.

He laughed and he laughed, and laughed and laughed-

But it's not funny anymore- dad isn't here and his hair is black... JJ scowled at the mirror, dad don't like his hair black. He like green. Yes, green hair and purple suit, and red- red, red, red blood. And it's funny- everything funny so hr laughs, but the mirror- The shattered glass flew everywhere and it's so funny that he can't stop laughing-

"Timothy!" Mother's standing by the door, she looks horrified.. it's not funny anymore- it's not-

He can't breathe, he stumbles backwards, tears rolling down his face and he. Can't. Stop. Laughing. _____________________________________________

One night he heard his mother and father talking. It's not fine, but what is fine anymore? He's finally Tim but he's also JJ and it's so confusing.

"I can't look at him anymore Jack, he is pathetic!"

"I know Janet, don't worry"

Tim chokes a whimper. _____________________________________________

The next week Ivy and Harley found Tim trying to drown himself and took him in... _____________________________________________

Jason took in a deep breath, his eyes wet and his heart ache for his little clown.

"It's..."

Catwoman gave him a small smile, "A lot? I know. Those are once of the memories Tim still have"

"I'm- I can't even-" Cat smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder.

The words 13 Days shined in the sky above them.

_____________________________________________

"Hood" Oracle's voice filled his helmet.

"O, how many times do I need to ask you not to hack my helmet?"

Oracle completely ignored him "How's Tim been?"

Jason swallow, he forgot that Babs is actually one of those people who really care about Tim (and him. Because Babs amazing).

"He's been good, happy" Just like Jason. It's like they feel the same thing. He can see Babs smile in his mind at that, like something changed in the weather just because of what he said, and it pulled a smile in his face.

"That's good, how are you?"

"Same as Tim"

And now he can hear her smile when she talks "I'm happy to hear that."

"How are you O? Does Dick head annoying you? 'cuz I can beat him if you need"

O snorted, "Two days sleeping on the sofa and he'll be begging for my forgiveness"

Jason laughed. And they kept talking about nothing for two more minutes, before Babe had to go.

And that's when Jason shot his grapple to another roof and went flying in the sky, the feeling of happiness all over his body.

But it all stopped when hr heard it.

It came straight out of his nightmares, something from his deepest fears.

This manic laugh. Joker's laugh.

And no just no. Thete's no way this stupid fucker got out again.

He dropped to the ground with a thud sound, looking for the fucker but instead seeing a group of teenagers, kicking someone on the ground.. someone who couldn't stop laughing like the Joker and his heart stopped beating for a second when he realised who it is.

A shot noise ripped through the air and the teens stopped, looking back at the red hood holding a gun at one of them.

All he needed to do wad to say "Go. Away" and the teens ran away, leaving Tim on the ground, hugging his legs to his chest, blood and tears mixed together on his face, and he couldn't breathe because the laughing wouldn't stop.

Jason hurried to him, helping him to sit up and uncurl himself, unable to look over Tim's face since he wouldn't let him.

"Tim, sweetie, my baby clown," Jason kissed his cheek, hugging him close to him "It's me, remember? Red Hood"

And at that Tim's head moved, looking up at him. Eyes full of tears and his face twitched in this manic smile, blood dripping down from the now open cuts in his chicks to his chin.

"Timmy babe, can you hear me?" He received a small and hesitate nod that he took as yes.

"Can you give me your hands?" He asked, showing Tim his gloved hands. The smaller man put his hands in his, feeling the fabric.

Tim relaxed, his eyes fixed on the red helmet, the tears stopped rolling down his face.

The laughing quiet down a bit, but still were there.

"You remember me, right? We are friends, hell I'm hoping even more than friends"

Tim nodded, but Jason wasn't sure what he was agreeing with so he just kept talking.

"We have this amazing plan, because you are my little smarty boy right?"

Tim could take in a breath and that was good, he wasn't laughing anymore but he also didn't talk exactly, just watched Jason and every couple of seconds squeezed one of his hands (never the both of them together for some reason).

"Hell I even kissed you that night and it was the greatest thing in the whole world baby clown"

"No." Tim's tiny voice waved on the air.

"Hah?" If Tim didn't like Jason like that... It would be ok, he will be heart breaked for a few days but he would be fine at the end... Somehow.

"I kissed you" Tim said, looking at him with this witty little smile that Jason grew to love so much.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah" a small smile tug on Jason's lips, and their lips met. It was amazing just like the first time they kissed, and it sent sparkles down Jason's body.

And after a minute he let go, both of them taking deep breath.

"Come on baby clown, let's go to my home"

Tim took his hand and he pulled him up, hugging the smaller man.

The words 7 Days exploded in the sky exactly when they reached Jason's apartment.

_____________________________________________ 

Waking up with Tim by his side is amazing.

The smaller man was curled next to him, a hand clutching at the fabric of his shirt. The long black hair messed up but still so beautiful. Tim's face relaxed, a samll smile on his face.

Last night Jason gave him one of his own shirts, and the younger basically swam in the white shirt.

Jason looked at the paler than normal skin that was now available. It was in the same colour of the shirt.

He pulled Tim closer to him, kissing the beautiful man's forehead and closing his eyes.

Immediately going back to the welcoming blackness of sweat dreamless sleep. _____________________________________________

The next time he woke up was because Tim wasn't next to him.

Jason didn't know exactly why he woke up because of that, but the moment Tim's weight left his body his eyes snapped open, meating beautiful blue eyes.

Tim smiled at him, a sleepy smile. His hair a whole lot of mess and Jason's heart beated faster as he smiled back.

The sun was already in the middle of the sky and the clock on the wall said it was already one A.M.

"Mornin' Jay" Tim whispered.

"Morning baby clown" _____________________________________________

They ate together, silence surrounding them in the most comfortable way.

Jason couldn't exactly point it out but something about Tim made him.... just feel whole. Like he didn't felt since he woke up six feet deep.

Both of them were in Jason clothes and Jason found out that for some unknown reason, white looked better at pale skin.

And Tim.. Tim was the most beautiful human he saw. His blue eyes, his black long hair, and this perfect smile. Jason started asking what he fucking did right to get this angel. _____________________________________________

He didn't knew how it happened but Tim's hot wet mouth was on him and he was practically in heaven.

His hands gripped the black hair and pulled slightly, making Tim moan and himself gasping as the moans vibrate on him.

He was definitely in heaven and this angel between his legs was the most perfect thing to ever happen to him.

"Oh God" he said and moaned Tim's name, his legs shacking.

"Tim I'm about to-" and with that he came down Tim's throat, the angel swallowed it and looked him in the eyes, giving him this beautiful smile. And well, Jason might die happy this time around. _____________________________________________

This night he hugged Tim closed to him, the smaller man hugging him back.

Outside the words 6 Days colored the black sky with pink, green and yellow.

_____________________________________________

It was simple. Very simple, and Jason did it already so why the hell is he freaking out?

Harley and Ivy started a riot somewhere in the city while Catwoman helped them in Arkham and said that she's going to take care of the security. So from there they were alone.

And it wasn't like he didn't knew the plane by heart, it's just that it really is happening. He's going to kill the Joker. They're going to kill the Joker.

And it's not a dream. The mother fucking clown is going to laugh for the last time. _____________________________________________

Each floor has a minimum of two guards, thanks to Killer Croc Arkham was down six guards, so floors 1-3 only had one guard each during the day (Because Gotham’s criminals are all geniuses and think that night is the best time for a breakout).

So doubling up only happened at night on these floors until the guards either recovered or replacements were vetted and hired.

Floors 4-5 had double guards at all times and floor 6 was more storage and extra holding cells than anything else right now.

Thanks to Harley and Ivy's riot there weren't a lot of guards where they were, everyone waiting to catch the two. Catwoman didn't lied about helping them from afar as every door opened to them without problems. _____________________________________________

The elevator doors opened at the fourth floor, Jason noted that there weren't any guards around, wondering what Catwoman did as he heard the muffled noise of an alarm from the floor above them.

Jason walked to the guard station and peeked in to see two men slumped over and unconscious. From the looks of it they have been knocked out, 'help from afar ha?' he thought to himself, smiling a little. Looking over at Tim, the little clown being too quite for so long, the teen smiled, his skin somehow more pale than normal, and his gun at hand. Jason nodded to him and Tim did the peace sign.

They followed a hallway around behind the booth and came up on a large metal door. They waited couple of seconds and the door opened, revealing another hallway with another large metal door several yards down. There were three such doors in their's way and each one opened and closed behind them, making them closer and closer to the goal.

Jason paused and took a deep breath before the final door. This is it. This stupid clown is as good as dead. The door opened.

And there was the Joker, laying on a thin metal like bed that was bolted to the wall.

All that stood between them and the Joker was a wall of bulletproof wall with several inches thick with small round air holes cut evenly to allow air to flow into the (if it could even be called that) room.

The Joker slowly rolled off the bed when he saw them, and came to stand in front of the clear wall, a sick smile on his face. “Well, well, well, what have we here? Visitors? Oh, I know you!" He said as he looked at Tim, his grin getting wider "You're my little lamb. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!”

Jason's heart started to beat faster, looking at Tim's hand gripping the gun so tight that his fingers turned whiter than usual.

"I'm not" Tim said, his voice quite.

"What did you said little lamb? Talk louder for papa"

Tim smiled, a small smile that made Jason question if he's going to follow the plan or not.

And of he really think about it, he was never told about this part of the plan... How will they kill the Joker?

"JJ?"

"I'm not a fucking lamb you old fucker" Tim said and shoot.

[straykidsworldwild]

Duskwood

Phil Hawkins x MC

Part 2 (1/2) : MC goes to work and a certain boy comes to meet her for lunch.

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Heyy guys! Here's a piece of part2. It was too long to put the whole thing on Tumblr at once (apparently) so I had to cut it in half 🙈 (2/2) is coming!!

(I just made the collage. Credits go to the creators of Duskwood and the owners of the pics.)

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I slowly wake up, feeling and hearing something buzzing. With my eyes still closed, I slide my hand under the pillow next to mine to grab my phone. I hate waking up by alarms… It feels like I am being cut in my sleep. And I’m not going to lie… I love my sleep just as much as I love food. Who doesn’t? I open my eyes and turn the alarm off before quickly closing them again. I didn't sleep well last night… When I went to bed after texting Phil to tell him I got home fine, I couldn’t stop thinking about the discussion we had at his bar. Was I right to say “yes” for lunch tomorrow noon? Was he being serious? Is he playing a game? Am I falling in his net? I don’t know and I think that’s what terrifies me with him. I just don’t want to be his next hookup… If I start something, it’s for a serious relationship, not to play around. That’s not my thing. But that’s exactly what Phil does so… I guess I should just trust a little more myself. Anyway, that was just the first part of the night, because the next part, all I could do was think about my uncle. Every time I closed my eyes, I just recalled amazing moments with him. Moments that mom, he and I won’t ever have again… I laid on my back, on my sides, on the side… And I did this over and over until managing to fall asleep.

I turn on the lamp on my nightstand when I hear my phone suddenly buzzing again. But I turned it off… Oh! I grab my phone and answer the call after looking at the I.D. caller.

- Hey, mom, how are you? I just woke up… I tell my mother with a still sleepy voice as I sit on the side of my bed. The light is still too much so I close my eyes for a few seconds more. Suddenly, a noise coming from behind the phone call catches my attention. It’s not a noise I am used to hear her make... Mom? I call her with some concern.

- “He's gone…” I hear her simply whispering through the phone as another sound catches my attention again. Sobs… Mom is crying. I’ve heard my mother crying before. It’s so… Strange and heartbreaking. I mean, mom has always been that strong figure, fighting everyone coming in her way or in mine… But she never broke down before me.

- I know, mom. I'm so sorry. But… I begin to respond calmly, keeping the pain to myself. I’ve never heard nor seen my mom crying in my life. She’s all I have as a family and hearing her in such pain… It’s heartbreaking.

- "Can you come over today? I'll need you to finish the preparation of the funeral. I can't do this alone. And..." She interrupts me, sounding overwhelmed and submerged. I lower my head and keep a desperate sigh inside of me. I wish I could already be next to her and tell her to not worry. That she doesn’t have to do anything. That I will take care of this for her. But I can’t because of my dumbass boss… Unbelievable...

- I'd love to, mom, really. But I have to go to work, I begin to say, sounding sad and sorry for not being there for her. I hate it. I feel like I’m betraying my own mother. That I’m not giving her the support she needs right now. And maybe the one that I also need... But she knew uncle Alex for longer than I did so it’s fairer that I should be there for her... But once I'm out, I'll stop by your house to come help you, okay? So I can see you a little bit too, mom. I should finish at 3p.m. today, if my boss doesn't think otherwise, I tell her gently. Though, an unsure point is heard in my voice. We never know with my boss… If he had a bad day, he is capable of giving you two extra hours to do just because he wanted to.

- "You know, your uncle was always there for me. I remember when we were kids…" I frown with sadness to the sound of her voice. It’s broken… She sounds empty. Out of life. "There was this horrible kid terrorizing the youngsters. I was one of those kids being terrorized, but of course, as my big brother, he protected me. He always did. He was really protective, you know?" She recounts me in brief words with a trembling voice. I know the story by heart. Uncle Alex used to tell it to me as a bedtime story. He was the hero of course. I never doubt that… I hear mom sniffling and letting another sob out. "So was he with you, baby. He loved you as his own, you know?", oh… When she said "baby", her voice just completely broke. I could barely hear it. I continue to look down as I feel a lump forming in my throat. I miss Uncle Alex like crazy... "And he did the same when your father left..." She admits to me, going to the topic about how my uncle was protective. Which I already knew as well... It honestly hurts to hear all of this so soon after his tragic death. I still haven’t digested it. It’s still not real to me. I still think I will see him today or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow... But it seems to make mom feel better by saying those words to me, by recounting her memories. So, I'll listen carefully. Or I'll try, at least… If I don't break before too. Her pain is so profound… And shared.

- Mom, you don't have to tell me all of this now. Let some time pass. It's hurting you, I say with a slight pleading tone, hoping she will listen to me. I know it's hard to not think about it or to not want to talk about it. But I just think it's too soon for her. And for me... She can't turn the page in a finger snap. It’s impossible. Even if she feels like she did or she has to do it, it might not be the best way.

- "I love you, MC. You're my baby girl." She says over the phone, sniffling sadly again. I nod even though she doesn't see me. I am staring at the floor, my sight being blurry. Not again...

- I love you so much, mom, I reply to my mother, controlling my voice as much as possible despite the tight ball in my throat. She doesn’t need to know that I’m about to cry too. I hear her sniffling behind the phone call again followed by a new sob. I can't… Look, I have to go, mom, but I'll come see you later today, okay? I'll come with a little surprise, I tell her gently, wanting and feeling the need to cheer her up. I just want my mother to be happy again.

- "A surprise? You know I don't like surprises much, MC.", She replies with a mix between her crying and a faint chuckle before reminding me how she has always hated surprises. I know…

- That's why I'm bringing you one, I answer to my mom, cracking a smile to the sound of her faint chuckle.

- "You're a little Devil, just like your uncle... What's the surprise?" She begins to say before pausing. It's true, I got a little bit of him too. I guess it's because he sort of raised me and because I'm a (l/n) as well.

- Mom, if I tell you there would be no point for me to call it a surprise, wouldn't it? I answer with a gentle and playful tone before giggling. I hear her crying turning into giggles.

- "I tried. Okay, go to work, baby, and... I'll do a few things here... I'll try. Oh, and I ordered the flowers you asked me to pick for your uncle." She responds with another small chuckle before sniffling one more time. I smile a little more, glad to hear that I managed to make her smile a little bit despite the situation. She ordered the flowers… My smile grows a little more, glad about this news.

- Okay, call me if you need me for anything. Doesn't matter if I work or not, okay? I love you, mom, I reply sincerely to my mother, giving her a little cheerful tone.

- "I will. I love you too, baby. See you later.", She says back to me, sounding a little better then when I answered the phone. I smile and wait a few seconds before hanging up. Right… I feel like I have another long day coming… I let a long sigh out, as if I am trying to get rid of a weight on my shoulders, before wiping the tears in my eyes. Well, I've got to get ready...

Almost an hour later, I am on my way to work. Like every day, I see the same streets, the same cars, the same shops, the same streetlights… Of course, I am not going there with an ounce of motivation. I’d rather stay home or go anywhere else, but not there. I’m not saying being a waitress is the worst job, but my boss and some clients are actually really hard to deal with. Anyway…

I rapidly reach the back door of the restaurant I work at and enter the building which leads to the kitchen. The cooks and the waitresses are all here, ready to work. Oh, almost… I hold the door for Angie and she runs in, thanking me at the same time. We exchange a smile and get ready to start working. The clients should start coming soon… It's been three months since my boss decided to expand the restaurant to include a little coffee shop. I think it was a good idea, a good change in Duskwood. It was a test at first to see if people would like it. The clients seemed satisfied so that’s why I am here so early every morning now.

- MC! I look up immediately after hearing a gravelly voice yelling my name. My boss walks briskly towards me, a frown of madness plastered over his face. As usual... What time does my watch indicate? He asks me while showing me his watch on his right wrist. What…?

- 8:01am.? I answer, not sure where this is going.

- You were supposed to be here at 8:00a.m.. Not at 7:59a.m., not at 8:01a.m., but at 8:00a.m.! Is it so hard to understand in your dummy brain? He tells and asks me with madness, actually scolding me for arriving one minute late. As always, he raises his voice while talking, making sure everyone can hear who is commanding here. I guess you see what I meant when I said that I wasn’t very motivated to come to work...

- I'm sorry, boss, I simply say as I don’t want to argue nor lose my job. Well, it’s mainly that I’m not up to an argument right now… I have other things to think about. To worry about.

- Don't. Since you came late, you'll go home late. You're finishing at 6p.m. today, he tells me with a correcting tone, looking down on me. He’s joking, right? 6pm?

- What? You're making me do three extra hours for one minute late? I demand him with disbelief as I’m getting upset.

- And you're not paid for those, he points out seriously, still speaking as loud as before. Not paid?! Better and better...

- Sir, I can’t work extra hours today. I have to go see my mom this afternoon after work. My uncle passed away yesterday and I have to help for the funerals and… I explain to my boss with seriousness, going up against him. I mean, I can be shy and quiet and all, just don’t take me for an idiot or play with me.

- That's not a valuable excuse. Get to work before I change my mind and actually fire you for rebellion, he orders me seriously and sternly. Right… I look down, not responding to not receiving any consequences later. Everyone, back to work! he screams to all of his employees before walking away to do his life. Dick!

- Don't listen to this cold hearted dick, MC, I hear Angie telling me as she comes to stand in front of me. She’s a little taller than me. If you need to leave, then do. I'll cover for you. I knew something wasn't right yesterday but we barely crossed paths so I couldn't ask you what was wrong. I'm really sorry about your uncle, MC, she apologizes sincerely to me as she puts her hand on my shoulder. Angie is one of the only workers I get well along with here. Yeah, nothing goes well in this restaurant… It’s sad because it could have its potential. I smile at my friend while weakly nodding.

- Thanks, Angie, I thank her sincerely as I place my hand on top of hers. She smiles and nods back before the two of us take separated ways to go do our work.

The morning passed pretty quickly to be fair. I prefer when it’s like this. Working and watching the time pass is one of the worst feelings. There were so many clients this morning that I didn’t have time to get bored. It’s actually pretty rare that there are so many people coming in the morning. I mean, it’s still a little buzzy usually but not this much. I hope that will put my boss in a good mood and he’ll kind of forget the late minute thing this morning… Right, even I don’t believe this… I take the plates and cutleries that customers have left to clear the table. I clean it well and let other customers settle in. The noon hour and 1pm are the worst. There is often a line of customers waiting for a table but it goes on pretty well usually. Anyway… It’s time for my break. I put the dirty dish and cutleries in the bassin which is on a cart to later go to the kitchen.

- Hi, I turn around to look at the person who is not so unfamiliar to me, I'm looking for a pretty (h/c) with crazy (e/c) in which you would easily get lost in. Have you seen her around? says and asks me, a man, using a flirtatious and slight playful tone at the same time. I smile and softly laugh while nodding.

- Yeah, I think she went back to the kitchen a little while ago. But I don’t know where she went after, I reply playfully to my friend as I point towards the kitchen. The man softly laughs back before passing his hand in his long hair which isn't in a ponytail or a bun for once. How dare he look so good?

- How are you, Gorgeous? Asks me gently, Phil, as we are facing one another.

- I’m good. I have the same problem as last night, but I’m good. You? I answer with a very faint sigh as I keep a small smile before asking him.

- I'm good, thanks, he responds, having that damn smirk in the corner of his lips. The two of us stare at each other for a little moment, a smile on our face. I can’t really explain why or how, but seeing him here, now, like we said last night, makes me happy. So, is it still on for having lunch together or...? He asks me, a point of nervousness heard in his voice. He isn’t sure of himself which is so rare to see.

- Yes… I begin to tell him before hearing a gravelly voice calling for me.

- MC! I turn around and see my boss approaching us. Oh… No time for talking! Get back to work! He tells me harshly in front of Phil. Oh God… So awkward! I know I have said stories to my friends about my boss, but none of them actually saw the man talking to me that way. And I wish it wouldn’t have been Phil seeing and hearing him talking to me this way. What is he going to think?

- You're seriously letting that dumbass talking to you this way? I hear Phil whispering lowly in my ear. His deep voice echoing in my ear… He sounded like he couldn’t just believe what he just heard. Oh but it’s real, Phil… I live it every day like all the employees here.

- It's almost 1p.m., sir. I'm on my break… I begin to respond to my boss, not forgetting that I actually want to get out of work at 3p.m and not 6p.m. I still have hope… A faint one but, it’s still there.

- Break? He repeats my word with disbelief as he is standing right before my face now. No break for you today. Come on, move! He exclaims, speaking with a mad tone as usual. If I didn’t know him, I would think he actually hate me. Which might be the case… It’s not possible to scream so much on someone without reasons, right? Ugh, is that guy ever happy? Or just calm?

- Hey! I hear Phil’s loud voice coming from behind me before I could say anything to my boss. I slightly widened my eyes in surprise as I didn’t think Phil would say something. She's your employee, not your stooge! You should watch it! He tells him with a warning tone which I’ve never really heard before. The only time I heard him using this tone was when one of his regulars overstepped the line. I look on my left as I see Jessy’s brother standing next to me, slightly getting before me. Oh… He looks so mad.

- And who might you be to talk back to me? Questions, my boss to Phil. Oh no… I glance around us and notice that customers are staring at us, watching the scene. So awkward… Before Phil could do something or say a word, and mostly before it goes too far, I grab discreetly Phil’s wrist. He doesn’t move nor look at me. My boss is still staring at Jessy’s brother. He is not pleased at all...

- Look, sir. She's been working since 8:00a.m., and it's 1p.m. in less than five minutes. You can't take off her lunch break just because you're her boss, it's against the law. But if you think you are above them, maybe we could stop by the police station to see who's right? Responds calmly and politely, Phil, all while still having this warning and serious tone. I’ve always been amazed by how polite he can stay despite the circumstances or the situation. I mean, it’s easy to lose control due to anger, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he fights.

- 30minutes. No more, tells me, my boss, reluctantly giving me a break. Thanks to Phil… I nod positively before he turns around and leaves us at a quick pace. Phil turns around before looking down at me.

- Thanks, but you didn't have to do that, Phil, I thank him with a small shy tone, yet, thankful he actually stepped in for me.

- I did and I wanted to. But honestly, that guy deserved more than just a "talk", he replies with sincerity and seriousness. While talking about my boss, I could hear the madness in his voice. I nod understandingly as I give him a small smile, appreciating it for standing up for me. It’s not every day it happens. Come on, he suddenly tells me with his infectious smile. I don't answer. Instead, my smile grows wider while the two of us walk through the restaurant to reach the outside. Oh, he has a bag! How did I not see it?

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 2

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Point? Plot? never heard of it! have some fluff instead!

First > Next

----

First class was called for boarding, leaving the twins behind to wait for economy boarding. They could afford first class, but didn’t want to make a scene with the rest of the class. They are distracted from the window when Lila joins the first class line. When she reaches the desk the twins can’t hear her talking but can see her crocodile tears as she likely spins a tale of woe. There is a sense of satisfaction between them as after some back and forth Lila is sent away in a huff. She goes back to the class and starts complaining, causing them to miss the call for domestic boarding.

“Let’s go,” Marion shrugs his backpack on and they went to board before the rest of the class. He wasn't about to let Lila somehow steal their seats.

As they board the plane they walk past their friends in first class, some seats around them still having people late to board. With a wave they continue on reaching their seats and storing their backpacks under the seats.

“Marion, make sure your devices are in flight mode,” Marinette commands, as she pulls out her tablet.

“Sure thing,” Marion pulls out his laptop, making sure both that and his phone were on flight mode. Marinette double checking.

“It’s just not fair,” They hear Lila whine as she walks past them to her seat.

“I know girl, I know,” Alya is following, patting her back.

Marinette ignores them and pulls out the safety manual, studying the two pages with the same intensity she does as Ladybug. Marion turned to the built in seat screen and browsed through the movies. Marinette was likely the only one on the plane who paid attention during the safety demonstration. When the plane started moving Marinette grabbed onto Marion's hand. It was fine until the plane started to speed up, the grip getting tighter. When the plane lifted off Marion's hand was almost crushed with no magic ladybugs to save it.

“You know for a bug-”

“Nope, na-ah, not now,” Marinette grits through her teeth. Marion sighs and resigns to his hand being crushed.

Fine they had been in a bubble hundreds of meters above Paris looking straight down, but apparently that was nothing compared to a plane. When the seatbelt sign turned on Marion could swear in less than a minute Chloe magically appeared.

“Come on, there's spare seats near us, the people were a no show,” Chloe said, hands on hips.

“I don’t know Chloe, is that even allowed?” Marion asks, trying to pry his hand free.

“I’ll be fine,” Chloe waves him off, not answering the question. She looks at Marinette. “I’ll start jumping,”

“Let’s go!” She releases Marion’s hand and grabs her backpack. Marion shakes out his hand to get the blood flow back, then inspects the marked skin. He follows after them moving his fingers cautiously.

“Marion, your bag,” Chloe sighed, sending him running back to get it.

When Marion caught up they were already seated. Marinette, Kagami and Chloe were in a row of three by the window, while Adrien sat at the row in front. Marion climbed awkwardly over the person sitting at the aisle to reach the spare seat.

Adrien says a quick hello, not looking away from the window.

“It’s normal to be nervous on your first flight,” Kagami assures Marinette, not knowing wasn't her first flight. “Just breath, where would you prefer to sit?”

“Maybe somewhere out of reach of my hand,” Chloe speaks up, cradling her hand.

“It’s ok Marinette, I don’t really like planes either,” Adrien confesses, giving a weak smile over the seat.

“Well there we go you two should sit together,” Chloe dictates, “Come on Marion, up you get, you too Marinette,”

Chloe herds them out of their seats. Marion sheepishly apologises to the aisle person as they climb over them again. Marion sits at the Aisle now with Chloe at the window and Kagami in the middle. Marion peaks over the seats to see the two blushing messes. Marinette holding Adrien's hand, surely for no other reason than fear. It was effective either way as both seemed completely distracted by each other.

“Nice move,” Marion whispers to Chloe as he sits back down.

“I know, and as such I get to choose the movie,” Looking at the disposable headphones with disdain.

“We have our own screens,” Kagami points out.

“Then we’ll just have to start at the same time,” Chloe huffs, plugging the headphones in.

After a painful twenty minutes Chloe eventually settles on some romantic comedy Kagami and Marion had never seen which was ‘ridiculous’ and ‘unacceptable’.

“On my count, go,” Chloe presses play followed by Marion.

“That's not a count,” Kagami argues, the movie not playing.

“Of course it is,”

“You didn’t count,”

“That’s true,” Marion's screen lagging slightly behind Chloe.

“Fine,” Chloe rewinds back to the start, “One, two-”

“Wait I’m not ready!” Marion exclaims, struggling to rewind his. “Ok, now,”

“One, two, three” Chloe presses play, Kagami having pressed it a second before.

“Why?” Chloe hisses, as the screens play out of sync.

“You didn’t specify on or after three,” Kagami explains.

“After three!”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“Ugh, fine let's do it again, One, two-”

“Maybe we should do, ready, set go,” Marion interrupts, a grin on his face.

“No!” Chloe screeches.

“I think I should count,” Kagami interjects, straight faced. Marion isn't sure if she's serious or helping him mess with Chloe or not.

“No! I’m doing it and I’ll be counting,” Chloe seethes.

“Ok, ok,” Marion rewinds his screen,

“One, two-”

“So on or after three?”

“Ahhhhhh!”

After getting bored(being scared for his life) Marion finally lets them start the movie. That doesn't mean he’s done messing with Chloe, as he decides the comedy isn't comedic enough and has to make jokes throughout. Has to it is not his choice, the black cat beckons.

“Why would she not tell him that in the first place,” Kagami inquires.

“I don’t know, she just didn’t,” Chloe grumbles, keeping her eyes glued to the screen.

“It would have avoided a lot of problems,” Kagami decides.

“Well if you wanted needlessly complicated romance we’ve got front seats to the best one this century,” Marion smiles, adding, “And I’m not talking about the movie,”

At that they all stand to peek over seats at the two love birds leaning against each other asleep. Chloe snaps a photo leaning right over them to get the best angle. They all photobomb the background.

“We need to make a collage of all the times this has happened over the years,” Chloe sighs, showing them the photo.

“The piece of resistance will be them in their wedding outfits, sleeping after the reception,” Marion looks down at his phone to see Chloe had somehow sent him the picture, despite him looking at her phone the whole time, “Witchcraft,”

“They would, wouldn't they?” Chloe shakes her head.

“If they ever start dating,” Kagami mutters, also looking down to see Chloe had sent her the picture as well.

“Kags, the only ones that don’t know their dating is them,” Marion assures.

“Shush, this is the good part,” Chloe waves her hand at them, staring at the screen.

“It has a good part?” Marion asks, having to dodge the purse thrown at him.

They were halfway through the movie when Madame Bustier approached them, followed by Lila.

“Marion, what are you and Marinette doing up here?” She demands.

“The seats were spare so I told them too,” Chloe stops Marion before he can apologise.

“That doesn't mean you’re allowed to take them, you should have offered them to another student like Lila,” Madame Bustier reprimands, gesturing to Lila.

“If they can’t be here then neither can she,” Kagami grabs Lila’s wrist before she can shake Marinette awake.

“B-but my tinnitus!” Liela cries, Marion has to grab Kagami's other hand before she can place it over Lila’s mouth.

“Won’t be affected by where on the plane you sit,” Chloe glares.

“What do you know?” Lila sniffs, trying to shake Kagami's grip.

“Surprisingly, I actually researched it, unlike you,” Chloe spits out.

“How dare-”

“Excuse me,” A flight attendant approaches them, “is everything ok here?”

“No,” Liela turns on her crocodile tears pointing at the twins with her free hand. “These two are meant to be in economy, and I was told there were no spare seats in first class, they must of stolen someones seat!”

“Ridiculous,” Chloe huffs.

“Sir could I please see your ticket?” The flight attendant asks Marion. Marion freezes and stutters to explain, Lila looking smug.

“Right here,” Chloe fishes two boarding passes out of her purse and hands them over. The flight attendant inspects them, Marion giving them his passport before they ask.

“My apologies,” They tell Marion, handing back the passport and boarding pass, turning to Lila. “Miss these are their seats, I have to ask you to return to yours,”

“What!” Lila screeches.

“Miss I have to ask you to please be quiet, there are passengers sleeping,” The flight attendant is sterner now. Madame Bustier guides a complaining Liela away.

“Sorry for the confusion,” The flight attendant tells them.

“It’s fine,” Chloe has a vindictive smile on her face as she watches Lila storm off. When she turns around she sees Marion is smirking. “What?”

“You just happened to have two extra boarding passes, huh?”

“Of course, I wanted to have a row to myself, but you two looked so pouty when I left that I decided to give them to you,”

“Right, and they just happen to have our names on them?” Marion prodded, holding them out as proof.

“Uh, yeah? I couldn’t check in three times, I had to use your name,” Chloe snatches the boarding passes away.

“How did you even get our information to do that?” Marion asks, now genuinely confused.

“Anything is possible with money,”

“Foreboding… but true,” Marion considers, “Hey Chlo?”

“What?”

“Thanks,” Marion gives her the biggest smile possible.

“Whatever, you can thank me by letting me choose the next movie as well,” Chloe turns back to the screen.

“I’m not that grateful,” He has to doge her purse again.

Food comes part way through their second movie, that they let Chloe choose anyway. They gently shake Marinette and Adrien awake. Adrien groans at the thought of more food, but is too polite to turn it away.

“What is this slop?” Chloe asks, poking her fork at it like it might attack her.

“It's worse in economy,” Marion points out, eating his with only a small grimace.

“How is that meant to make me feel better?” Chloe sneeres.

“Because Lila and Sabrina are eating it now,” Marion smirks evilly, Chloe mirroring him.

“I’m still not eating it,” Chloe turns her nose up.

“You can have this,” Kagami hands over a container of assorted sushi. “I brought it, but it’s nothing compared to the sushi in Japan,”

“Thanks,” Chloe actually smiles, but would never admit to the slight blush dusting her cheeks. “Here Mari you can have this,” Chloe passes him the tray.

“Thanks Chlo, but I don’t like it either,” Marion pushes it back. Frustrating Kagami with all the reaching over her.

“At least take the cheese, I know you like that,” Chloe drops it on his tray.

“Wha- oh yeah, thanks,” Marion remembers Plagg, so he can't hand it back(not at all because he’s afraid of what Kagami will do if someone reaches across her again).

“You can have mine as well,” Kagami places the matching cheese neatly on top of Chloe’s.

“Do you want mine too?” Adrien asks reaching over the seat to hand it to him. “I don’t really like cheese,”

“Oh… thank you,” Marion says awkwardly, taking it.

“Here you can have mine as well,” Marinette reaches out, grinning over the seat. Marion glares at her, taking the cheese. She sticks out her tongue and sits back down.

When no one is looking Marion sneaks the cheese into his bag. He tries not to yelp as a few seconds later Plagg bites him. Marion excuses himself to the bathroom, taking his satchel.

“Plagg, what gives?” Marion asks, opening up his bag.

“What gives? you expect me to eat that trash? While Kaalki and Tikki eat a mountain of chocolate, are you so crule?” Plagg sticks his ‘nose’ up.

“It’s cheese,” Marion argues, picking up a piece.

“That is an insult to all of cheese,” Plagg points at the offending block.

“Too bad, it’s because of you everyone thinks I’m obsessed with cheese, so take some responsibility,”

“Never!”

“If you don’t eat it, I’m going to throw it out, so what's worse? Bad cheese, or wasted cheese?” Marion asks.

“Hmmmm…. Uhhhhhhh……. Ahhhhhh,” The Kwami looks like he’s in actual pain having to decide this, “.......... Fine!”

He stuffs the block into his mouth.

“Plagg you have to unwrap it first,” Plagg spends the rest of dinner pouting, as Tikki happily chomps on her Toblerone blocks with Kaalki.

After eating Marinette and Adrien decide to also try watching a movie together. They somehow take even longer to get it set up. Considering they can hardly use a full sentence around each other. Kagami eventually gets frustrated enough that she leans over and presses play for them. Marion, Chloe and Kagami finish watching their movie and decide to sleep the rest of the flight away. Chloe brings out her neck pillow and sleeping mask, seat reclined as far as it can go. Marion takes off the horse miraculous placing it carefully in the glasses case and then in his satchel. When he sits back up Chloe and Kagami are leaning against each other, apparently soundly asleep. Marion pretends he doesn't see both peeking at each other.

“Ah, to be the fifth wheel is a mighty achievement,” Marion whispers to himself, trying to disappear into his neck pillow.

Marion blearily wakes up to Kagami, Chloe and Adrien whispering. Marinette had fallen asleep again and was leaning against a blushing Adrien’s shoulder. He pretends he doesn't see this, reaching into his bag to grab the horse miraculous. He checks the flight path to see they only have two hours to go. Stretching as much as possible he chats with the others until Marinette wakes up over an hour later. They start talking about what they’ll do in Gotham, their excitement rising.

“There's an Akuma attack,” Chloe says looking down at her phone.

“What? how do you know?” Marinette shares a glance with Marion.

“Just got an alert,” Chloe gestures to her phone.

“It’s not in flight mode!” Marinette hisses.

“Of course not I-”

“Chloe put it in flight mode right now,” Marinette reprimands, as she climbs out of her seat with her bag, “I’m going to the bathroom,”

“... I’d better go check on her,” Marion declares, as Chloe turns her phone to flight mode, muttering that nothing happened.

He knocks on the bathroom door Marinette is in and is pulled in by Ladybug.

“Lets go, come on,” She says, bouncing in place.

“Plagg, Kaalki, Combine!” With a flash of light Marion is transformed, and with another they are off to Paris.

They have to be back in their seats for the descent that should be starting any minute now so they transport to the Akuma. Hoping they just run into Monsieur Rat. Instead they find a new Akuma, frustrating now having to find the akumatized object. They seemed to be a plant based, judging by the forest growing out of the sidewalk. Marion drops his transformation with the horse Miraculous, leaving regular Chat Noir. He passes a sugar cube to Kaalki telling the Kwami to stay put.

Ladybug charges in without him, trying to wrap her yo-yo around the Akumas tree like body. The Akuma breaks off the branches to get free, growing them back immediately. It sends out vines like whips, that the two dodge getting forced back. As Marion is forced back he trips over some moving roots getting sent sprawling back.

"Chat Noir," He hears a scared whisper to the side. Looking he sees a hand sticking out from under the roots and an eye peeking out from underneath.

"Don't worry," He gently takes the civilians hand, small enough to be a Childs, "me and Ladybug will save you,"

"Don't you mean Ladybug and I?"

"Never mind you can stay here," Chat teases, sticking his tongue out making the kid giggle.

He feels something wind around his leg. Looking down to see roots start to encircle it.

"Uh, Ladybug!" He tries to pull his legs free. Ladybug drops down next to him, helping him get free. He gives the kids hand one last squeeze before jumping to a roof with Ladybug.

"The civilians are trapped under the roots," Chat Noir reports.

"Inside as well," Marion looks out to see buildings cocooned in roots. "I freed some civilians, the Akuma went after them, you need to find it,"

Chat Noir nodded extending his baton to survey the surrounding area. He spots the Akuma from above, using his enhanced vision to study it.

"Chat!"

He looks down to see roots winding up his baton. He jumps off the top and is caught by Ladybug, as she swings them away. Marion looks back at his Baton to see roots circled around it like a tall tree without branches.

"Won't be using that for awhile," He muses, "Piggy back ride?"

"Yeah right," Ladybug snorts, "Wheres the Akuma?"

"That way," He points, "I noticed a poster hanging from one of the trees branches, it must be the akumatised object,"

"Alright lets go!" Ladybug drops down on a roof where the Akuma can't see them.

“Just stay calm, rushing isn’t going to help us here,” Chat Noir grabs her wrist pulling her back.

“You’re right Chat,” Ladybug takes a breath, “But that doesn't mean we can’t get a helping hand, lucky charm!”

"A ribbon? I think weed killer would have been more useful,"

"Very funny, I need you to tie this around the branch with the poster," Ladybug hands it to him.

"Got it,"

Marion jumps off the roof onto the trees branches. It screeches trying to grab him. Chat Noir summons his cataclysm destroying the branches that reach for him. While the tree is distracted severing the decaying branches Chat drops down to the branch with the poster, tying it around. The tree severs the branch as well, dropping it right into Ladybugs waiting arms. The trees branches wrap around Chat, giving Ladybug time to destroy the poster and purify the Akuma. Chat Noir is freed by the ladybugs, placing him back on the ground and returning his staff.

"Pound it,"

Kaalki comes out of hiding, Marion transforms before the press can delay them. He opens a portal right back into the stall. Detransforming and rushing back to their seats.

“Are you ok?” Kagami asked, as they buckle their seat belts.

“I will be once I get off this plane,” Marinette answers, Adrien offers his hand.

When they land they get to be the first ones off. They wait for the class. Madame Bustier does a headcount before they go through border security as a class, before moving on to pick up their bags. Alix and Kim ram their trolleys together as they wait for their bags to arrive. Madame Busier looked tired she didn't even try to stop them.

Chloe had to have her own trolley for her five bags, the rest managing to carry a single bag. The class headed for security separately. Marinette and Marion were stopped for a bag search because of a ‘concerned anonymous tip’ that they were bringing food in. No one else saw them get taken aside. The twins were thankful they left their vigilante costumes at home to be picked up later.

“And what's this?” The security guard asks, holding the polka dotted Miracle box.

“A jewellery box,” Marinette opens it up showing the miraculous. “Its a birthday present for our aunt who lives here,”

The guard nodded, not finding anything wrong. They sent them on their way, the rest of the class had made it through already. The twins walked outside, trying to spot their classmates or the bus.

‘Where are you?’ He texted Chloe

‘On the bus, you said you had another ride?’

‘No?!’

[simonsrosebud]

so , what about, like getting older together , realizing that they are working for real, and maybe making it official (for the dalton au)

it’s taken me like 2 days to write this because i needed it to be right...

also i realized i read it wrong and didn’t realize u said “making it official” which i’m guessing is in relation to r*ngs but THIS IS JUST AS MUCH OF A MILESTONE FOR THEM!

kevin makes it a point to visit dalton on the weekend.  his second season with the new york blackhawks is coming to an end soon, and the deadline to make a decision about his contract is sneaking up on him.

but when he showers and climbs into dalton’s bed, he’s not the only one with news.  “okay,” dalton says.  he’s smiling, and sits up opposite of kevin.  “so i love teaching here, but- for me, at least, being three hours away from you has been the hardest thing since we’ve graduated.”  not when the moriyama’s stuffed you in a car?

kevin nods along.  they seem to be on the same page, but he’s wondering where dalton’s going with it.  “so i’ve been lining up some teaching jobs out in new york.”

what?

“can i stop you for a second?”  dalton nods, but his face starts to fall.  “new york wants to renew their contract, but i also have really good offers from south carolina, philadelphia, and florida.”

and dalton laughs and grins.  “oh- that’s amazing!”  but kevin knows what he’s thinking.  we can move halfway between the philadelphia stadium and the university.  it would only be a twenty minute drive for the both of us.

but when dalton’s smile fades again he purses his lips.  “but… you wanna go to south carolina, don’t you.”

kevin drops his head.  “i… i don’t want to ask you to leave your job, dalton.  and your whole family is up here.”

“and yours is all down there.”

kevin sighs.  he’s right, but he still can’t ask dalton to up and leave.  not if he doesn’t want to.  “i don’t know what to do,” he says.  “i’m not breaking up with you over location, that’s stupid.  i knew this kind of thing would happen eventually.”

“kevin.”  dalton grabs his chin between his thumb and pointer finger, and he’s got a soft little smile.  “i lined up jobs in new york to be closer to you.”

“i know and i’m sorry, i should have told you sooner-“

“no- i mean, i was willing to find another job there.  why not somewhere else?”  he pauses.  “if south carolina is your decision, would you let me come with you?”

kevin stares at him for a moment.  “really?”  he starts to smile.

“i did live there longer than you, when you think about it.  liked it for a reason.”  kevin can’t believe he’s willing to do that.  without even a second thought.  “carmen’s in georgia, anyway.  she’d love it.”

and kevin can’t really put into words how happy that makes him, that he won’t have to choose between dalton and his family, his chosen family.  so he tackles him into the mattress instead and lets dalton wrap his legs around his hips.

there’s only one problem left, and it’s been ringing in his head ever since he got new offers for the next season.

south carolina isn’t his highest offer.  the blackhawks renewal contract is, because they need him and because they know how valuable he is.  which is why kevin makes a call the next day.

“kevin day.  last time i spoke to you was in a car.  tell me, what did you do wrong?”

kevin’s heart is beating out of his chest.  “nothing.  i have a proposition, it has to do with my contract.”  when ichirou doesn’t answer he goes on.  “i know what you said about always accepting my highest offer, but at the moment south carolina is just below it and both neil josten and andrew minyard are signing to the team as well this season.  i’ve done the math and the press and publicity that would come of my transfer would ultimately boost my earnings higher than the blackhawks contract, which is why i’d like your permission to accept the offer to south carolina.”

he holds his breath.  it’s a full two minutes before ichirou answers.

“very well.”  and hangs up.

kevin sits stunned.  he pulls the phone away from his ear to make sure that really just happened, then looks to dalton sitting across from him at the table.  dalton raises a brow.

“i guess we’re moving?”

dalton grins.

dalton is more picky about house hunting than kevin would have expected.  apartments are different, and kevin wasn’t able to accompany him for that one.  he supposes he likes his decisiveness.  he knows what he- they want, had it in his notes on every tour.  he knows what’s practical.

there’s only a few things kevin knows he needs.  one or two spare bedrooms for when the foxes or the girls come by.  a big living room and kitchen, windows in every room, so that he doesn’t feel cramped and stuffed in.  after all, he’s still got a bit of claustrophobia left over from growing up in the dark.  literally.

he needs a yard big enough to do workouts and throw some balls around,  big enough for lilly to run around in.  kevin’s kind of excited to be living with a dog again, ever since the one summer he spent watching her.  they have the same amount of energy.

other than that, the rest is all dalton’s work.  they both have the same style, anyway.  kevin likes lavish, but he doesn’t want to live in it.  his apartment in new york is modern as all hell, but it’s never felt like a home.  the dorms?  they almost felt like home.  dalton’s house?  abby’s house?  those were homes.

kevin wants a big soft couch and a kitchen he’s not scared to get messy 24/7.  he wants to hang things on the wall, even though he doesn’t have many decorations he plans on bringing from new york.  the most of what he’s got are pictures from college.  framed photos of the team from their first championship win, a collage dalton made with pictures from graduations and banquets.  other than that, there’s no other decorations he cares to keep but a framed photoshopped diploma for “world’s okayest friend” from neil and andrew for his graduation.

anyway.

they do find somewhere, eventually.  they don’t have a ton of time, and they’re staying at abby’s while they search instead of traveling back and forth.  but they’re growing tired and honestly they feel like a burden on abby, even though they do their best to stay out of the way.

it isn’t until almost a month before preseason starts that dalton calls kevin on his way home from the gym.  “look at the link i sent you.”

so he does.  their realtor sent it to dalton barely seconds before he forwarded it to kevin.

it’s practically perfect.  and kevin’s got the money to spend, so the price doesn’t bother him.  he’d had to point that out to dalton more than once, every time they’d look at a place that seemed pricey he had to remind dalton that he had the money.  that he has more than he needs, even.

to paint a picture in your head:  it’s in a gated community, something else kevin really wanted out of paranoia now that he was going to be living with dalton.  he needed them safe.  needed him safe.

they walk in, and after a short hallway, the house opens up to the kitchen on the left and a big living room to the right.  a dining area sits past the kitchen and behind that, a sliding door to the backyard.

it’s all so bright.  

there’s three bedrooms upstairs including the master, and when kevin walks into the room he turns and holds his arms out.  “do i fit in?”

dalton grins.  “absolutely.”

they get the house.

kevin works some magic to get it sooner, and after they’re all moved in- though with a lot of work left, he leans against the garage.  dalton’s coming up the driveway after saying goodbye to matt and dan who had come along with wymack to help out.  kevin starts for him, and swipes him off his feet.  “hey!”  dalton laughs and clings his arms around kevin’s neck.

kevin carries him through the door.

dan sees it from the car as they drive away, and turns back forward.  “matthew, you didn’t carry me over the door when we moved in!”  she pinches his arm.

meanwhile, kevin tosses dalton onto the bed.  their bed.

dalton grabs his face and pulls him down.  “i love you, day.”

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Did You Purr?!

- Supernatural & Marvel Bingo, Spnquotebingo

Squares: Wing/Grace Kink and Quote-GoodOmens

Paring: Jack Kline x Reader

Warnings?: Fluff, Father Son bonding, Lucifer being fatherly, Wing/Grace Kink, Soulmates(mentioned), me trying to flirt.

A/n: Reader doesn’t live at the bunker all the time[She lives off campus of her collage]. This one-shot is shorter then the others,but respecting the rules of the bingo card there won’t be any nsfw content.

Annoying pain or a itch that couldn't be scratched is how Jack described it. He asked Sam and Dean about it,but they were no help. Planning to ask Cas and he was unavailable. Jack had one final option go to his father to ask him what's wrong with his body.

Lucifer met his son a state over in a retro fashioned dinner. Together they sat in a both a milkshake in front of the young nephilim. "So you said you had a problem with your body?" The archangel said not quite ready for the 'Your going through changes talk'. "Yes. There’s been this unbearable pain in my back that's just been getting worse each time I "'teleport'" as Dean put it." He said as he slipped the cold dairy beverage.

"Oh thank you father!" He said with a sigh as he held his chest. "It's just your wings. When was the last time you groomed them?" Lucifer asked his son. "They need to be groomed?" The boy asked confused. The devil ran a hand down his face that stupid angel that's watching over his son couldn't even teach him basic knowledge. "Yes you need someone to groom them every two weeks."

Jack looked up at his father. "Can you do it?" He asked making the pour fallen angel choke on the air he didn't need to breath. After calming the coughing fit. "No! That's a very intimate thing. Only specialized angels or Soulmates are allowed to do that." He said. "So like Y/n?" The boy said, his father's eyebrows raised and a smirk played on his lips. "Y/n,Y/n Winchester? Is your soulmate?!" He asked with interest. Jack nodded his head his father. "She said she was the only one that could see my wings and Cas told me that we were soulmates." Jack stated. "Well why are you still sitting around here for got to her!" Lucifer said raising his arms. "She's across country on a solo hunt and I don’t think I can fly that far like this." The nephilim said. Lucifer stood up and grabbed his son by the arm dragging him outside. "Hold on tight don’t want to drop you in a random state." With that they were gone only think left was the milkshake and a couple Bill's.

They appeared outside a motel where a F/c '67 Shelby sat outside. The father and son duo walked to the motel room that radiated with her presence. Lucifer rises his sons hand and high fives him patting his shoulder. "Have fun. Heard that Winchester's are quite dominant in the bedroom." The man hummed. Jack turned to ask what he meant,but his father was gone. Knocking on the door it only took a minute for the door to creak open before it was open completely. The youngest Winchester stood in a large flannel that could be a hammy down and short sleep shorts covered by the button up. Her hair was frizzy and her eyes were drowsy,but her body was tense and her hand held on tightly to the demon blade. Y/n relaxed when she realized who was in font of her. "Jack what are you doing here?" She asked as she let him in rubbing her eyes. "And what's wrong with your wings ?!" Her voice held shock as her eyes widened at the sight the normally golden wings were a dark brown,patches of hard leather like skin were exposed and shedding feathers fell all over the floor.

"That's what I wanted to talk about." The young nephilim said as he stood in front of her pain etched on his face. "I need help grooming my wings." Jack said bluntly. The youngest Winchester just starred at him confused before nodding. "Yeah? Yeah. Of course just sit on the bed." She told him as she went to lock the door again. "Do you know how to do this?" Y/n asked as he shook his head with a sigh she went to grab her phone to search up how to groom bird wings. Close enough right? Going around the motel room she got the supplies she needed and sat behind Jack placing the warm water and towel aside. “If it hurts tell me,babe.” She said as she uses the now moist towel to clean the wings as feathers fell on the bed, the grim was thick,but after awhile the now with a dirty bowel of water and washed wings things were looking better. “How you feel?” Y/n asked her boyfriend. “They feel lighter,but still a bit heavy.” Jack said shacking his wings out.

Reaching forward she ran her hand through a patch of large wings causing him to stiffen and the once slicked wings to fluff out. Combing her fingers the lose and decaying dirt brown feathers fell out and Y/n went to the base in in between his shoulder blades and she froze when a unexpected sound  came out of Jack that shocked them both.”D-did you just purr?” She asked confused and blushing. He didn’t respond as his flushed face looked straight ahead. Not slowing down her movement she continued as her angel purred silently trying to stiffly it as much as possible. Y/n was finished within half a hour,but Jack didn’t seem to notice as she got of the bed and started to clean up. “Jack?” She said snapping her fingers pulling him from his sleepy daze. “All done,sweetheart.” He stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist his face resting in the crook of her neck. “Guess Ill get out of your hair and let you finish the hunt.” He said as he was about to fly off when she held onto his forearm stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m actually almost wrapped up with this hunt and I’ll be heading back to my apartment. So after I’m done here you can stay at my place, if you like.” She with a smile leading him to the door. He stepped over the threshold as she kissed him goodbye leaning to his ear to whisper something. “By the way...I like it when you purred might have to find out what other sounds you can make.” With a signature Winchester smirk she closed the door leaving the poor nephilim shell shock and a blushing mess. Turning around he saw his father standing there with a cheesy grin as he gave his son a thumbs up. “Sounds like a date?” He teased his son as they both left the dingy motel with out a trace.

Tagged: @thisismysecrethappyplace​ and @spnquotebingo​

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Almost done! Just need to come up with ideas!!!

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

Hi I would like to request creeper or hank you can choose! I would like the number 29. And 41 and can it be angst and maybe some smut please?? I was thinking where creeper or hank cheats on their old day with one of the vickis girls, and they found out because the girl that he cheated on her with brags and their old lady overhears but can it be a happy ending ??

Thanks to me lovely beta reader @chibsytelford for editing 💘

Prompt:

29. “I fucked up everything”.

41. “Who's that bitch”.

Wearing that tight black dress that drives Creeper crazy and your hair falling like a cascade on your back, you walk towards your car. The crew has been out for almost one week, and usually your boyfriend goes straight home, but seems like the shipment went better than expected. So they're having a party and, of course, you must join them as his Old Lady. Parking next to the motorbikes, you put some perfume on your collarbone. This one that he brought you from Las Vegas, when he fell in love with the smell, saying that it remind him of you.

You're desperate to see him, hug him and tell him how much you missed him every day. But there's a scene happening next to the ring that it's screwing you. Getting out of the car, you listen the talk between Creeper and one of Vicky's girl.

“Go”. He demands pointing the main metallic door with a hand, without noticing you.

“Why?” She asks crossing her arms on her chest. “'Cause your ‘reina’ doesn't know wha' happened when you get shot? I can remember that you enjoyed it pretty much, honey”.

“Who's that bitch?” Your brain is about to explode because of the fury, walking towards them with big steps.

You've never seen Creeper so pale, like he just watched a ghost. The girl is laughing loud, till you slap her on the face, making her tremble.

“'Amma fuckin' kill you!” You yell at him, pushing Creeper with your hands on his chest. The tears ruining your make up, falling down your cheeks.

“Baby, reina, listen! I can explain it!” He begs you, right before you hit his nose with your fist. You growl too, knowing that someone is happening in your knuckles after it.

Running to your car, feeling stupid for first time in your life, you start the engine watching how he tries to reach you. But he's not fast enough, and by the rear-view mirror above your head you can see the whole crew completely confused. You don't have a place to go, driving with no direction and your gaze blurred because of your crying.

And when you think you're far enough of Santo Padre, parking the car by a side of the road, you hit the steering wheel with both cuffs. Resting your forehead against it, you let go all the pain you've been carrying inside you the last hour with a noisy scream, till it rips your throat and you start coughing. You trusted him, blinded, without doubting. You didn't say anything about his nights in Vicky's house. And who knows how many time it happened?

Your phone dings. One text. Two. Three. Four more. Lying on your seat with your eyes closed, you take it. You know it's not Creeper. You know that probably Bishop took his phone to avoid more problems. And yes, it doesn't surprise you when you see Vicky's name in the notifications. With a heavy snort, hitting again the steering wheel, you're about to read it without opening the conversation.

💬: Neron was high

💬: I didn't know

💬: Bishop is furious

💬: So do I

💬: She's gonna pay for it

💬: Come to my house

💬: We have to talk

‘Neron was high’. You re-read the message thousand times, hoping that it doesn't mean what you think she's trying to tell you. Starting the car, you turn around, typing on the gps the location, 'cause you don't know where the hell you are. Desert on both sides. Desert behind your back. Desert on the horizon. Sand is everything you can see in the middle of the night. Stepping on the gas, wheel screeching leaving a black trail on the asphalt, with the radio turned off to focus on the road, going as fast as you can.

The dunes are left behind when you almost arrive to the illegal border with Mexico, next to Vicky's place. There are no motorbikes parked, and the lights of the second floor are turned off. The woman is sitting on the main stairs, smoking a cigar. Raising her eyes to your car, she gets up shaking her jeans with a hand, while she's having the last smoke before throwing it.

You stop the car, cleaning your tears with a tissue, trying to fix your make up. At least, you don't look like a dying raccoon. The older walks to you, surrounding your body with her arms in a warm hug, hoping that maybe it could help. You don't say anything, following her inside the silent house. On the main table, in the living room, there's one of those beers you usually drink. Sitting in front of her, having a sip, you keep your eyes on your reddened right hand. Vicky notices it, going to the kitchen to find some ice.

“When Neron was shot, he was there. High all the time because of the morphine. Mariela took advantage, but he can't remember it. No one saw anything”. She explains, offering you a bag of frozen beans, placing it on your knuckles. “Look, I understand you're angry, or upset, or whatever. But I know him since eight years ago. He has been shot, stabbed, hit... I want to think that even once he was run over. And I've never seen him crying. But tonight... Tonight he was collapsed and broken”.

Your inner lip is trembling, picking up the beer to drink till you need to breathe, cleaning your mouth with the back of your free hand. You can't look at her, feeling ashamed and a completely blithering idiot.

“You know what...?” Vicky takes your hand, after she pulls away the bottle, to make you raise your dark eyes. “When he met you, he came to talk me about a beautiful and smart girl he knew in a supermarket, buying tequila”.

A soft and shy smile appears on your lips, feeling a tear running down your cheek. That was very weird, 'cause you were to buy alcohol for a party and a man who looked like he had just come out of jail approached you. He talked you about the different tequilas, about the graduation, about the origin. About anything that would allow him to have a conversation with you. He was fun and, finally, he got your number. The rest is pure history.

“Then, when he proposed you, he brought us all together. Do you wanna know for what?” You nod in silence. “He was angry 'cause he had a lot of photos of you, and he didn't know which one he could use as his phone' background. At the end, he made one of... those collages with all. We were more than an hour. Taza almost shot him”.

You can't help but laugh, imagining the situation, while she narrows your hand lovingly.

“Talk with him, mi niña. He truly loves you and he truly care about you more than the club. There are no men as Neron, in a world like ours”.

Biting your inner lip, you nod again getting up of your seat. The woman cleans your tears with her fingers, before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Mariela will not work in Santo Padre, nor in the surrounding'. Bishop demanded. I approved. She disrespected you, and a Mayan. There's no place for people who betrays the family”.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Taking a long breath enough to fill your lungs, you unlock the front door of the flat. There's light inside, finding Creeper on the sofa with a rag with some ice in. He doesn't move. He knows you well, and he knows if he gets closer you're gonna punch him again. Probably. You can see his right cheek is slightly swollen and red, and you can't help but feel guilty, putting down your eyes to your hand. When he notices it, he practically jump off of his seat, wanting to heal you in some way. So he places the ice on your knuckles.

“I fucked up everything. 'Am sorre'. I was fuckin' stoned”. He says with a broken whisper. “I can't rememba'. If it happened, it didn't mean anything fo' me, I promise”.

Clicking your tongue, you push him closer to you by a hand on his back-head, pressing your lips against his. It's been one week since the last time you've been together. For you two, is too much.

“Did you... really call the crew to show them a bunch of pics' mine?”

At first, he seems confused, till he understand what you are talking about. He takes his phone, unlocking it after type de code.

“I use it when 'am out”. He says, while he shows you the screen. “When 'am here, I use that one where you're sleeping on top of me”.

You don't know if it's better laugh than cry, with your brain failing for an instant. Leaning towards you in a slow move to give you enough time to run away, he finally kisses you again. And there's no resistance on your part. Letting the ice falls down, you surround his neck with your arms, feeling his big hands pressing your back to him.

“Forgive me, mi reina, please”.

“It's okay, Neron... It's okay”. You shake your head before giving him some careful kisses on his cheek. “Can we... just go to sleep? You look tired after the ride”.

“Will you be with me when I wake up?”

“You're like a fuckin' koala, what do you think?”