#don't ask me how this came to be i don't know either

[sasquapossum]

At pickleball the other day, I did a particularly spectacular roll[1]. Somebody asked if I was OK. My awful brain immediately came up with a reply:

"Don't worry, I'm sure the cancer will get me first."

Fortunately - and this may be a first - my filter did stop me from actually saying it out loud. Did have to take a moment to stop laughing, though. My friends all knew it was better not to ask. If it was so bad that I stopped myself, they knew they wouldn't want to hear it.

[1] Yes, that's a thing I do. 20 years of volleyball, where we actually used to do diving/rolling drills, plus 20 overlapping years of snowboarding, have left me utterly unafraid of hitting the floor. Rolling is safer than the alternative, if you know how to do it right. It's why they call me "dustmop" and "lobster roll". I literally have to warn new players about this so they don't freak out either about the roll itself or the regulars laughing about it.

[webslingingslasher]

Hey, j! an u do nerdy!Peter and Angel being scared she's using him?

*a/n: nerdy!peter has finally been released from his cage. he missed you all very much.

'and what do you do for him?'

you've been thinking about it for days. peter's softly snoring on your left but you can't sleep, tossing and turning, looking down every so often at your ring finger and feeling the same gut punch you have for the past seventy two hours.

your friend's cousin just moved to new york to follow her dreams, she's nineteen and full of life. she also very innocently asked a question that sent you tumbling down a whirlpool. you all met up for brunch, you even went the extra mile and snuck her a mimosa to show how friendly the city would be to her- but then she had to ask about your ring.

it's a new addition, you just got used to the weight and sparkle but anytime someone asks, you're shoving it in their face and bragging.

'that's a big ass diamond!'

'i know! i couldn't believe it when he asked me... i kept asking him if he was sure.'

of course you had to spill all the proposal details, your friend's cousin awwing at the right moments before doubling down with a congratulations. it was a nice moment that led into other conversations, somehow falling back on rent prices.

'it's fucking crazy out here, i don't know how you guys do it. how much do you pay in rent?' your friend shared her monthly rent, you stayed quiet, her cousin was looking at you for an answer.

'ew. you think i pay rent?' you flashed your ring again, giggles fell around the table, the topic moved on. someone mentioned a restaurant, you chimed in to say it was amazing, that your fiance took you there for your last anniversary.

'god damn, the cheapest thing on the menu is two hundred bucks! i looked it up and a glass of wine was like eighty dollars, that's crazy!'

'hmm... peter splurged on a bottle.' there was a chorus, the girls loved hearing that. you shrugged at your humble brag. when you have a good man, you want everyone to know. little comments got brushed under the table, nothing major until the bill came.

you offered to pay, the two girls with you excited with your generosity. 'ah, don't thank me, it's on peter.' you slid the credit card to the end of the table, your friend's cousin put the final nail in the coffin.

'okay, okay, you gotta tell me. so, he buys for your friends, he pays the rent, he buys you super expensive dinner, you have a rock on your finger... and what do you do for him?' she laughed, your friend laughed, you laughed. it was funny. until you couldn't come up with anything you give him back.

now it's been three days and you're watching peter sleep, feeling more and more guilt creep in by the minute. you don't deserve the things he's given you. you're not sure if curling up to him makes you feel better or not but he's warm and your eyes are finally feeling heavy.

---

'good morning, angel.' peter made you breakfast and while your heart fills with adoration, you have to fight the urge to frown. he does everything for you and you can't even make him breakfast?

'good morning.' you're still tired, you weren't able to sleep in either. rest hasn't come easily to you, peter's been noticing it too. 'i felt you moving around last night.'

'i couldn't sleep. i finally dropped off around three.' you sit at the kitchen counter and rest your head on your hand, peter kisses your forehead, the oven timer goes off. he made cinnamon rolls.

'was anything keeping you up? you've been a little quiet since you had lunch with your friends.' he knows something's off, he's just not prying it out of you yet. 'i don't know, i couldn't get my mind to turn off i guess.'

you're staring at your ring again, peter serves you the middle roll. it's the best one. he splurged on the ring, he pays for the rent, he pays for every date, he buys for your friends, he gives you the middle cinnamon roll and you... and you...

'i know i don't have to tell you this, angel, but just in case... you can tell me anything. even if it's something you don't think i want to hear.' peter's thinking it's something about your friend or work, something that doesn't really pertain to him but if it's weighing on you, it should weigh on him too.

'i know.' you reach for your breakfast, the shine of your diamond stops you. 'how much did you spend on my ring?' peter's looking at your ring too, a sly smile crosses over his face.

'that's for me to know and you to never find out.' he's not saying it because it was cheap, you know it wasn't. you wouldn't care if it was, the fact he got down on one knee and asked you to be his forever was enough to say yes, even if he did it with a ring pop. but you've been scrolling and trying to do your own investigative work and what you've found makes you feel like you don't deserve it.

'how much money do you make every month?' you have an idea but you don't have a specific number and you need a dollar amount. peter looks at you funny, probably because your question came from left field. 'why do you want to know?'

'because i'm going to marry you and i want to know your finances.' it's a cheap shot around the truth, peter knows it too. 'alright, well, we'll talk about that when we get there. we haven't even talked about the wedding yet.' you told peter you wanted a couple months to bask in the fiance glow and you'd start planning when you got bored of it, he had no problems with it.

'i think money is a great starting point, how else am i supposed to know our budget?'

'tell me how much you want to spend and i'll let you know if it's possible.' you don't want a numbers game but you'll play. 'ten thousand?'

'yes.'

'twenty?'

'yes.'

he has to draw the line somewhere, you're going to find it. 'fifty?' he laughs through a bite of icing, you feel like you still haven't scraped the barrel. 'if you can find a way to blow fifty grand on a wedding, sure.'

you're not pushing it any further, you have a feeling that no matter what you said, peter would tell you it's doable. it's frustrating and the only thing that eases you is the sweet, sticky pastry in front of you. 'you'd tell me if you were broke, right?'

'hey,' peter puts his cinnamon roll next to yours. 'you've never had to worry about money before, you don't need to now, either. is that what you're worried about? our wedding budget?' it's not but you'll take the bait, you're tired of talking in circles.

you take too much and he'll never admit it.

'yeah.' you're looking at your ring again, you're not hungry anymore.

'don't worry about it, angel.' peter kisses your temple. 'i'll take care of you.' you know he will. that's why you feel so bad.

---

you might not be able to do much but you can pay for dinner.

'i want to go out for dinner.'

peter's on board. 'ooh, date night. whatcha thinking?' you blurt his favorite place, he's extra excited now. 'double yes, six or seven?'

'six thirty?' you think his eyes have stars in them. 'i love when you meet me in the middle. six thirty it is, i'll reserve a table right now.' you grin, your plan is already rolling into motion.

his favorite dinner and when he leasts expects it, you're going to put your card down instead. it'll be your treat tonight. even if it's minor, it'll make you feel better.

at least you thought. dinner was excellent, the conversation was even better- you felt more connected to him tonight than you had in the past week. the second the bill came, you scrambled for it.

'oh, do you want to guess the total?' it's a small game you've both come up with, you each take a guess at the number to see who memorized the prices best. 'nope, i'm paying for this one.'

'cute. pass it over, angel.' he thinks you're playing, you refuse to hand the check back to him. 

'it's on me tonight.'

'then pay with my card.' you shake your head, 'i'm using mine. dinner's on me, i mean it.' peter's uncomfortable but he's playing nice in public. 'no. give me the check, please.'

you hold it with a vice grip, he would have to pry it from you. 'i'm paying, peter.'

'no you're not. you don't pay for me, that's my job.' you grit your teeth in frustration before easing into a smile. 'not tonight, petey. let me take over.'

'not happening. give me the check.'

'no. i'm paying.' you won't let him win this one. you need this, you need to feel useful for something. 'angel, seriously, hand it over.'

'no.'

'i always pay, let me see it.' that's more than enough reason to keep it from him. 'exactly, let me get this one this time.' peter looks at you dead on, he's not budging. 'no.'

'you're not paying for this no matter what, peter. i wanted to treat you to dinner and i am.' he sighs, you know he's about to gentle parent you into giving him what he wants but you're prepared for it and you won't give in.

'go ahead and pay for it, i'm just going to send you the money for it.' your mouth parts, you didn't expect that curveball. 'if you do, i'm sending it back. double.'

'i'll block you from sending it back, don't test me.' you buffer in the silence, peter tries to grab the checkbook from your hands, you slide it underneath the table. 'i'm paying and you're not reimbursing me. got it?'

you have your card ready, the second you see the waiter you'll hand it over before peter can think about reaching for his wallet. 'you're not paying and that's final.'

'no, i'm paying and that's-'

'are we ready with the check or do we need some more time?' you grin at the waiter, he came right on time. you hand over the bill and your card, peter's card is outstretched with yours. the waiter looks between the two with an awkward smile, you push yours further out- peter opens his big mouth.

'don't take her card. use mine.'

'i'm capable of buying you a dinner!' your waiter's caught in the middle and on everything in you, you swear he went with peter because he's a man. 'use mine.' your waiter takes peter's card and swiftly leaves the table.

you're defeated. you slump back in your seat with crossed arms.

'i told you i was paying.' he's happy about it. the one thing you thought you could give him, he just took from you. you don't know if you're more mad at him or yourself. you blankly stare at the wall across from you. you stare at it when peter's card is returned, you stare at it as he signs the receipt, you stare at it while he asks if you're ready.

you move in silence. you have nothing positive and nothing negative to say. you feel beat down. 'and what do you do for him?' nothing. not even pay for a god damn dinner. peter swings his arm over your shoulder, you shrug it off a block down.

'wanna get some ice cream?' you shake your head. you don't want to force another expense on him. 'oh c'mon, you love something sweet after dinner. how about that chocolatier place next to the apartment?'

you think he can sense you're upset. 'i'll let you pay. how about that?' he knows you're mad about it and offering you to pay for a cupcake instead of a full blown dinner sounds like he's giving you peanuts.

'can you go to may's?' he looks confused. 'why? what's at may's?'

'hopefully you. unfortunately we live together and i don't want to be around you right now.' you can shut him out of the bedroom but it sucks knowing he's right there... probably doing something for you that he won't let you return the favor on.

'you're kicking me out because i didn't let you pay for dinner? that's a little extreme.' your guilt comes out as anger, it's not his fault but it is. 'no, peter, you're the extreme one. i'm supposed to marry you and you can't even let me buy you dinner? i'm going home, don't follow me.'

of course he's following you. 'this is a really stupid thing to argue over.'

'yeah, it is. so why are you?' if he thinks it's so stupid why wouldn't he just let you pay? couldn't he tell how much you needed it? 'i'm not fighting with you, angel. i just don't know why after five years buying me dinner is a hill you want to die on.'

'because! you, you- ugh! go to may's, i'm done with you.'

peter's been with you long enough he knows when to back off. 'fine. you win. i'll hang with may for a couple hours but i'm not sleeping there.' if he thinks that means anything to you, he has another thing coming. 'i'm locking the bedroom door, you can sleep on the couch.'

'are you-'

'serious? deathly. thanks for dinner, peter.' you made sure to end the argument on how it started, just in case he needed to ask himself how he got in his position. you take off into a small crowd and arrive home by yourself.

the small adrenaline rush you had settled, all you can think about is your fiance. he bought you dinner and you yelled at him. he paid for a meal and you kicked him out of the home he pays rent for. even when you're trying to do the right thing you failed.

you stare at your ring, think of peter's confused face and start crying. once you start, you can't stop. every negative thought and feeling you've harbored comes pouring out- you're nasty and you don't deserve peter.

and you damn well don't deserve his ring. not an expensive one. you're not worthy of it, you've given him nothing in return. turning the hall for your bedroom, you fall on your shared bed and feel worse thinking about how peter bought the new mattress.

he's tailored the last four- basically five years of his life to you and your wants and needs and you can't think of a damn thing you've given in return. you sob, your tears are salty and you're happy peter isn't there, if he was, holding you would make everything worse.

this was a private breakdown, the kind where you feel like you're about to throw up from crying too hard. you gasp for air, the ring on your finger feels choking. you rip it off your finger and slam it down on the nightstand, you can finally breathe. tears are still racing down your cheeks but you can think clear, everything screams that you need to tell your fiance.

you need to tell peter that you're not okay because now you're treating him like he isn't okay. and it's all because of the ring. you can try and cope with everything else but a two carat diamond on your hand was too far. you have the ring but no wifely duties, you just watch peter tend to your every need and feel more and more useless.

it feels good to cry about it. you feel less like a monster. you sniffle and catch yourself tearing up about it over and over, you squeeze your eyes shut- you think you fall asleep crying.

---

the tv is on when you wake up. the bedroom is dark but you can see a peek of light under the door, a soft candance of sound follows with it. peter's home and even though you didn't lock the door, he's respecting your space.

your ring is still on the nightstand. you have to give it back. and apologize to the person you love most. you hesitantly grip the gem in the palm of your hand, it feels heavier than normal, you're not sure if you're doing the right thing.

but you see that peter's still awake and folding the laundry you left in the dryer. you've never felt more sure. you don't deserve the ring. you don't deserve him.

'i thought you were down for the night.' you check the microwave for the time, it's a little after eleven. you're not sure how to tell him, seeing him fold your socks sends a pang to your heart. you hold out your hand, he does it back, your engagement ring falls into his palm.

'i don't want it.'

panic. instant, fucking, panic. 'what do you mean you don't want it? the ring? me? engagement? are you breaking up with me?' peter's chest rises and falls rapidly, all of a sudden your panic is matching his and you're crying again.

'angel, you really need to talk to me right now. why is your ring not on your finger? what does 'i don't want it' mean?' you shake your head, peter's trying to be the calm one but he's failing.

'why the fuck did you give me your ring back?'

you whimper, it sounds like you just got shot. you did the wrong thing. you keep messing up. 'i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i'll just-' you try to take it back, peter's hand closes around it. 'no. you don't give me your ring and tell me you don't want it just to take it back.'

'i didn't mean it, i swear i didn't mean it. i want it back!'

'you meant it enough to give it back! what the hell is happening?' you went too far, you're not sure how to take it all back. 'give me my ring back, peter!' you're fighting with him for it, it's a lost cause but you're not giving up.

'you can't walk up to me after a fight, tell me you don't want the ring and start crying and beg for it back when i question you. no, you're not getting it back.' you're trying to pry his fingers off it, struggling more and more with each passing second.

'you've been weird for the past week. are you getting cold feet? do you want to call off the engagement? i'm at such a loss right now, why the hell would you give me your ring back?' you're in a panic, everything is crumbling at your fingertips.

'because i don't like it!' peter stops fighting as hard, you gasp for air the second it's back on your finger. it feels like a bandaid on the situation but it's better than nothing when you're preparing for war.

'you don't like the ring?' he sounds sad. really, really sad. 'that's okay, angel. i wish you would've said something sooner but we can pick something else out.' you can't let him be this kind when he's sad. the truth has to come out.

you sit next to him on the couch and lay your head on his shoulder, sometimes hard things are easier to say if you're not looking at him.

'i love the ring, peter. i really do. i just don't deserve it.'

even if you missed wearing it for a few minutes, you feel ashamed looking at it. 'why wouldn't you deserve it?' you chew on the inside of your cheek, you don't know how to explain it without him brushing it off. you have real, valid concerns about the future you have with him.

'you're gonna think it's stupid.' you're soft spoken.

peter matches it. 'maybe. but tell me anyway.' you take a deep breath and close your eyes, the story spills out. it starts last week at brunch, you give him the side comments that fell into your internal crisis.

'-and when she asked 'what do you do for him' i couldn't think of one thing. so i kept thinking about it and i don't have anything. i use you, peter. you pay for the rent, you buy me anything i want, you make dinner all the time, you clean the dishes, and you gave me a big ass diamond i don't deserve. i don't deserve you.'

peter leans his head back against the couch, a deep breath follows. 'and when i refused to let you buy me dinner, it was the final straw.' it was a very small, fine straw but he didn't know the load you were carrying- of course it all fell apart right there.

'i want to spend the rest of my life with you. i just don't want you to wake up one day and regret it when you realize i don't do enough in return.' that's the biggest fear you have. the unspoken one that kept haunting you, that one day ten years from now, you'd wake up to an empty house with a pack of divorce papers.

'you're right, angel. i think it's stupid.' you restrain from telling him off, you're glad you did. 'but it doesn't sound stupid to you, so, as the person who asked you to marry them, do you want to hear why i think you deserve it?'

you nod against his shoulder. 'please.'

'because it's you. that's why you deserve it. you have had my back every day for the past five years, like, you're solidly in my corner. and i've never had that from another person before. if i have to cancel something for spider-man, you tell me not to say sorry for it. when i forgot my cheat sheet for my third year midterm, you ditched your class to bring me it. when i was sick a couple months ago, you called out of work to take care of me. when i helped may move in her new furniture, you were there before i was. you pack me lunch every day, with a note and every day when i come home i get greeted with an 'i missed you' and a kiss.'

you hope if you stay quiet he'll keep going. he does.

'that's something i can't repay you for. but i can take care of you and make your life easier, and that makes me feel better about it. you give me a reason to get out of bed in the morning, if anything you deserve a bigger ring.'

peter bragging about you made you feel a lot better. he thinks you give him more than enough, it's just in a different way. 'if we're being honest, the money stuff makes me a little uncomfortable, i feel like you're spending too much on me.'

it was never about the wedding or the ring, it was about how much you think you're really worth. 'that's where all the questions came from?' you nod, peter shifts around, you end up curled in even closer to his side.

'i just don't want you spending more money than you have to just because you think it's your job to provide for me.'

'if we're being honest, i have something to tell you.' your fears are true, you put peter into crippling debt. 'i wasn't sure how to tell you and you were going to find out eventually but... remember that trust fund my parents left for me that i got when i turned twenty one?' it's worse than you thought. he never got one, did he?

'yeah?'

'i don't know why i lied but i got a lot more than i actually told you.' you slowly raised your head up to look at him, he's nervous for your reaction. you're still processing what was said.

'peter, are we rich?' you watch his hand teeter back and forth, your jaw drops open. 'i was stressed out for an entire week about you paying rent and now you're telling me we have money?!'

you gasp, would you be able to accomplish every new yorker's dream? 'do we have house money?' peter corrects you quickly. 'okay, woah, calm down, we're not millionaires... but yes, we do have a down payment on a house money.'

you've been bamboozled. 'then where's the house?'

'wedding first, house second. whatever's leftover from the wedding we can put down on a house.' that made your decision real quick. 'courthouse. i want a three bedroom.'

'we can have a wedding and a three bedroom, i promise. once we get married it becomes our money and we can spend it however we want. but until then it's my money and i'm gonna make sure you get a wedding out of it.' you'll accept it but it still doesn't feel even.

'i just feel bad that you do everything and i barely do anything to repay you.' now that you noticed it you're not sure if you'll be able to notice it. 'what does do everything mean to you?'

'you pay the rent, you pay the bills, you pay for all our dates, you clean the dishes and cook dinner five night out of the week-' you point to the mess in front of you- 'you fold our laundry.'

'we already talked about rent and bills, that conversation is over. i pay for our dates because you buy the groceries, in case you forgot.' you might've. 'if you pay for it when we eat at home, i should pay for it when we go out. the other stuff is household chores, i live here, i should do those things. i make dinner because we have to eat, i clean dishes because they need to get washed, i fold the laundry because half of it is mine. do i really need to tell you how you do way more than me around here?'

it doesn't feel like you do so... 'yes.'

'you wash our sheets once a week and remake the bed, you make the bed every morning, every sunday you plan out our dinners and go shopping. i've never touched our vacuum, actually, i don't think i've ever adjusted a pillow on this couch either. you decorated for christmas and halloween, you're definitely the only one who's ever cleaned the shower and don't think i haven't noticed how since you've moved in i've never, not even once, run out of deodorant or toothpaste. i help with some stuff but you're the one that makes this a home, angel.'

you do all those things. and support peter with everything in you.

you do deserve the ring.

'so i really earned the wifey title?'

'more than earned. you were made for that role... in a non misogynistic way, of course.' you grin, you can't wait to marry him. 'i can't believe i didn't think i did enough. i'm kind of awesome around here, aren't i?'

'you're the reason we're able to run the routine so smoothly, all i do is keep the lights on.' you raise your eyebrows, 'maybe you're the one that doesn't deserve me.'

'you're probably right. that's why i gotta use the free rent ruse to trick you into staying with me.' you play gasp and show off the best piece of jewelry you'll ever be gifted. 'and you trapped me with a diamond.'

'if i keep you focused on the sparkle you won't notice my con man ways.' he must see you lost in the little rainbows. 'well, it's working.'

'good. let me know when it starts to wear off, i'll get you a bigger one.' you know he's joking but you don't want a bigger diamond, you like this one. it's perfect because it's the one he picked out for you.

'you know, sometimes bigger isn't better.' 

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hiiii I’ve been interested in your work for so long! Idk if you’re taking requests but if it’s no trouble maybe you could do a situation where a cocky hero is patting down a shy villain and being ✨Spicey✨ about it? Thankyou in advanced 🩶

"For the record," the hero said, as the villain's face went scarlet, "I'd normally ask before putting my hands all over that gorgeous body of yours. Consent is important! But in this case..."

The hero drew out several knives from the set hidden beneath the villain's clothing, tossing them aside.

The villain's hands twitched uselessly in the cuffs, an aborted protest squeaking on their tongue to be careful with those!

"Well," the hero said. "Need must, eh?"

"That's all I've got," the villain said. They felt hyper-aware of the solid heat of the hero's body behind them, pinning them up against the brickwork of the alleyway with one hand, while the other patted them down.

The hero laughed softly.

"What a gorgeous liar you are too. It's as if you think I don't know you." The hero promptly pulled out a second set of knives from the villain's other side, where they lived tucked against against the villain's ribs. The villain shivered at the delicate brush of the hero's fingers - a little cool from the night air. "Turn."

The villain didn't particularly want to turn and let the hero see their face. Disarming compliments aside, nobody needed to know about the way the villain's heartbeat was thumping wildly in their throat. Or about the blush. It was just embarrassing.

"I can make you turn," the hero said. Not particularly unkindly. "How handsy do you want me to get?"

And that question - well. The villain turned so fast it nearly constituted an attack, mostly because their brain still hadn't recovered from the deft way the hero had pressed them up against the wall in the first place. The confidence of it. The fact that no one else had dared lay hands on the villain in a very long time.

The hero raised an eyebrow. Their head tilted. Their gaze roamed, entirely too thoroughly, over the villain's face. As if they could decode every secret there like it was nothing.

The villain cleared their throat and looked down, squeezing their eyes shut.

"Having fun?" the hero asked, like they knew the answer.

"No!" The villain's face burned all the more. They would have covered it with their hands if they could. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

The villain said nothing.

The hero set their hands gently on either side of the villain's ribs, dragging them down. They confiscated the various gizmos and bits of wire from the villain's pockets, before sinking gracefully to their knees.

The villain's breath gave a treacherous hitch.

The hero grinned up at them. A disgusting, cocky, arrogant, beautiful grin. They had the audacity to wink.

The villain bit down hard on their tongue. "Don't mock me," they managed.

"Not mocking you. Spread your legs."

The villain stared at them.

"Gently teasing you, perhaps," the hero allowed. "But not mocking. And certainly not about to underestimate you just because you're feeling shy. As delightful as the reaction is. Would it help if I told you that you have nothing to feel shy about? So."

The villain's stomach flattered molten. They shifted their position, leaning more heavily against the wall.

"Good," the hero all but purred.

"Pretty sure there's, like, a police officer who could do this."

"Yeah, but that would require me to trust that they'd treat a sweet thing like you right."

"...I've never been called sweet before."

"Sweet as cyanide. My favourite kind of sweetness." The hero's clever hands grazed the villain's thighs, easily finding two more sets of weapons and an emergency communication device strapped to their inner thigh. "Like a walking armada, aren't you?"

"I like being prepared."

"And are you?" The hero glanced up again as they smoothed one hand down the villain's leg, then the other.

"What?"

"Are you prepared for me?"

The villain's mouth opened but absolutely nothing came out.

"Guessing not," the hero said. "You've gone all wide eyed."

The villain shut their eyes, but then that was worse, because they could still feel the hero's hands on them. They coughed. They made a valiant attempt at composing themselves.

They failed.

"Shoes off," the hero said. "I'll give you a hand."

The villain's eyes snapped open. "You're not..."

"Strip searching you?" The hero's grin widened, and the villain hadn't known it could do that. "Not in an alleyway. That seems cruel. You'd get chilly."

"R-right."

"But you're right that I probably should be thorough. Doubt I'd manage to catch you again any time soon if you escape."

The villain caught themselves thinking it was a shame, that. Ridiculous. Utter nonsense.

The hero eased off one of their boots, then the other, taking with them the secret compartments in the soles.

It was equally ridiculous to feel somehow vulnerable with only their socks. They had the days of the week on them. Nothing like the sleek black of the rest of the villain's clothes.

The hero's eyes softened a fraction, even as the grin turned to a smirk. They rose to their feet again, the villain just a few inches shorter without the boots.

The hero traced their finger along the villain's jaw, like they might possibly have a secret capsule hidden in their teeth. They did. But that was beside the point. And not findable from simply brushing their cheek, however much it made the villain's breathing go shallow.

"Hotel across the way work for you?" the hero asked.

"W-what?"

"Told you I need to be thorough. Don't think I'd catch you again." The hero nudged their chin up, some of the bravado fading to expose the steely intelligence at the centre of them. Just as dangerous as the villain, in their way. "Not entirely convinced I caught you this time."

"You think I planned this?"

"Wouldn't put it past you, my one person battalion."

The villain's mouth felt very, very dry. Mostly because it was true. They'd planned to get caught. They'd prepared. They just...no they really hadn't prepared for the hero. Had they?

"Not as cocky as you come across, are you?" It came out barely above a breath. They should have been annoyed, furious, but...

The hero simply gave them that grin again. Even brighter and cockier than before. The picture perfect image of a powerful hero who hadn't yet learned what it was like to lose.

The villain swallowed.

"Yeah," they managed. "I suppose the hotel works fine. Do make it a nice room if you're going to get handsy. Some of us have standards."

The hero laughed at that. A full, genuine laugh from the belly. They pressed a kiss to the villain's head and the villain - well. The whole world shifted slightly. Dizzy. Intoxicating. How could the hero do that so easily? Like it was nothing?

"Excellent." The hero spun them, one arm linking them together, to keep the villain gathered close their side. Their lips pressed against the villain's ear, making them shiver anew. "Lead on, gorgeous. For you, I can even get the top security suite."

[lycheeloving]

Little fic about Bruce Wayne x a socially anxious reader! Bc I have social anxiety and wanted a relatable reader <3 Well. Partially relatable. I had to make them braver than me, to actually talk to Bruce in the first place lol

This is the first chapter of 3.

You're freaking out. Great.

Why did you come to this party again? Just because you happened to be one of the lucky random citizens to get invited? Because you didn't want to seem ungrateful? Because you were hoping that just once, you could manage to actually talk to others and have fun?

Yeah, well, that didn't work out. You're standing outside on a balcony, doing breathing exercises.

Actually, are you even allowed to be out here?

Fuck. You startle yourself out of your calm breathing and start sweating despite the cold.

You saw other people out here before you came here, so it should be fine! Unless only specific people are allowed here, or people are only allowed here at specific times?

You turn around to look at the door, but don't find any "do not enter" signs there.

Don't trust your anxiety thoughts! You're allowed to be here! Unfortunately that doesn't make you feel any better.

You turn to look at the skyline of Gotham again, hoping that that will calm you down.

How long have you been here, would it be weird to leave already? But you'd have to walk through the crowded room to get to an exit... Is there a backdoor maybe?

Just as you start googling the layout of the place you're in, you hear somebody else walk onto the balcony. Dammit. You hope they're just here to smoke and that they'll ignore you.

You stare at your phone. No results, the layout isn't available online. Makes sense, that would probably be a major security risk. Still sucks for you.

Maybe you should try those breathing exercises again. How did they go again? In for 4 seconds, hold for 3, out for 9, right? No, wait, it's in for 6, hold for-

"Are you ok?"

That was probably directed at you, but you're not in the mood for conversation. Especially a conversation about how you're feeling. Yikes. Maybe they'll take the hint if you just ignore them.

You look at your phone again, looking up how you're supposed to breathe when you're anxious.

You should honestly just leave. Do the busses run this late? If you have to call a taxi you might actually pass out.

Or if the stranger doesn't leave. Unfortunately they're allowed to be here. Probably. Unless nobody is allowed to be here and oh fuck, are they here to throw you out? No, probably not, calm down. Either way, nothing you can do. Just breathe.

"Not a big fan of parties, are you? Don't worry, me neither." The guy leans onto the railing right next to you, but you don't look at him.

Can't he just leave you alone? Fuck. Whatever. Your anxiety is already bad, how much worse could it get by talking to some rando?

Besides, you came here to try and fight against your anxiety, you should at least have one conversation.

"Uh, no. I'm not a party person. At all."

That's all he asked you, right? You hope you didn't forget half of his question.

"So why are you here?" Why does this guy have so many questions? What does he care?? Ok, calm down. One conversation, then you'll leave.

"I was one of the lucky random people to get invited. And I thought, well, maybe it wouldn't suck? And that it would be a good opportunity to—" To do something that helps you work on your social anxiety. Maybe don't tell that to a total stranger? You trail off.

"—to... Um. I don't even know. I thought maybe I would have fun? Maybe?" You try to smile, but it ends up being more of a weird grimace, directed at the floor. Off to a good start!

"Not to be rude, but you don't look like you're having fun." Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"Maybe you should have brought a plus-one then, huh? Then at least you wouldn't be alone out here. Unless you did bring one and they abandoned you, of course... I hope that's not the case. Would be typical of me, bringing up a sore topic..." He did! But not in the way he thinks.

"Can't bring a plus-one when you don't have any friends!" Your tone sounds a bit more annoyed than you want it to.

"Oh. Well. Um. See? This conversation has been so short and I've already said something stupid. This is why I escaped onto this balcony, actually." He stops talking to take a deep breath. "Well, one of the reasons."

At least he doesn't seem super socially adept either. That makes you feel a bit better.

"It's fine. Whatever." You scratch at some dirt that's stuck to the railing. "Just, um, if you were trying to get away from the conversations, why are you talking to me?"

"Well, you looked like you weren't having a good time, so I tried to distract you, even if I'm not sure that really worked out." He shifts next to you, taking a break from talking as if unsure what to say next.

"And I have to admit, I might have followed you out here. Ok, I did follow you out here. Because I saw you, and thought you looked interesting. And beautiful. So I wanted to get to know you."

What?? He must be joking. You stick out like a sore thumb in your cheap clothing, and you've been acting awkward ever since you got here.

You finally look up at the weirdo who was apparently actively seeking you out, seeing his face for the first time. Your eyes widen.

That's Bruce Wayne. The guy who's throwing this party. Are there hidden cameras anywhere? You really should have left the party as soon as you started panicking more than normal, then this wouldn't have happened.

Why didn't you recognize his voice? You knew you should have watched that stupid puppy interview the internet has been raving about, then you would've known what he sounds like! How come you've never heard him speak before! Stupid elusive billionaire that only appears on video once in a blue moon...

"I'm Bruce, by the way." He smiles at you with his stupid, pretty, charming smile. Ugh.

"Yeah. Uh. I figured." At least you recognize his face. That would have been even more embarrassing...

"So... What's your name?" He's still smiling at you. Fucker. You reluctantly give him your first name.

"Wanna get out of here?" Your eyes widen and you take a step back. Woah. Is he propositioning you? You feel a bit flattered, but also, absolutely not. No way. You can't even really talk to him without panicking, how are you supposed to—

"I didn't mean—" He grimaces. "Not like that! I just meant, let's get some food, talk, something like that. I didn't mean to come onto you like that! Sorry. Too much, too fast. We could also just stay here and I'll get some food from inside? Super casually, no strings attached, just friendly conversation. So we can get to know each other a bit, because like I said, I think you're interesting. The most interesting person at this party by far. What do you say?"

Fuck. Sure. Whatever. You are kind of hungry and didn't want to touch any of the food here with all of these people staring at you, even though it looked very tasty... And Bruce seems nice enough! And, again, anxiety training. Yes, you're scared, but just this once, live a little!! Don't run away! Even if that's what your body is screaming at you to do.

"Um. Uh. S- Sure?"

After asking what kind of food you like, to which you just answered "Oh, um, whatever.", Bruce started squirreling away one of every food that's at the party to your little balcony. You won't touch some of it, because you are a bit of a picky eater, but you're not telling him that. Maybe you should have. Oh well.

Bruce even pulled the curtains indoors shut, so nobody will wander out onto this specific balcony. Cool! One less thing to worry about.

Then you start talking. He asks about what you do for work, your hobbies, what you're interested in... Just anything that he can think of.

At first you're reluctant to open up, but then you realize: You'll never see him again.

You can treat him like a therapist! Except of course that you never really told your therapists about anything, because you had more appointments scheduled with them, meaning you couldn't just avoid them after. No thanks!

But where would you ever see him again besides on TV, or maybe a paparazzi picture of him and a model in a shitty magazine? You never go to rich people places! Except for right now, but it's not like you'll be invited to the next party, and even if you are, you don't have to show up!

And if he tries to ask for your number or anything, you can just say no. Easy. (But also, what are the odds he'd even do that? What reason could he have to want to talk to you again? He's just trying to avoid the party.)

Talking to Bruce Wayne is basically like venting to faceless strangers online.

This is fine. This is good, actually.

Anxiety training with no consequences. Fine. You can do this.

You probably open up a bit too much, in between bites of delicious food, if you're honest. Whatever. That's for future-you to regret.

You tell him about your job at the bookstore, how you would have asked one of your coworkers to come with you tonight even though you're not close to any of them, but didn't know how to bring it up and also remembered that you lied and told them you have friends, and didn't want them to question you about why none of your friends can come with you instead.

About how you don't really have any hobbies besides sitting at home and maybe watching a show or a movie, or scrolling on your phone.

About how you only came today because you knew you had to try to do something against your anxiety disorder or at some point it would get so bad that you'd never leave the house again. And now you're even having a conversation!! A conversation that includes personal information about you!!

He tells you about himself as well, but you're so nervous that you don't really remember anything for longer than a minute. At least you remember long enough to keep up the conversation, even if you're probably acting awkward. Sorry, Bruce!

But you do also talk about other stuff, nothing personal about either of you, your opinions on this and that, and actually get along pretty well.

At some point the bat signal appears in the sky and you say that you're never sure if it's comforting to see, because it means that Batman is out there to protect people, or that it's scary, because it means that there's a reason that Batman is out there, meaning you could get hurt.

Bruce nods absentmindedly, then checks his phone and says that he has some business to take care off, but that he had a wonderful evening with you, really. You wave at him as he rushes away.

You can't say you're sad that the evening ended this way, as you spent more time with him you started worrying that he really was going to ask for your number or to see you again... This way, he didn't even get to ask your last name! No need to worry about having embarrassed yourself in front of someone you'll see again, just about the fact that he could tell the press about you, but he literally has no reason to do that, right? He wouldn't do that, shut up anxiety.

You leave the balcony a bit more confident in yourself than when you entered it.

Maybe next time you'll try this with someone you might even see again! But, baby steps. This was really good for a first step, though.

You mentally pat yourself on the shoulder as you make your way through the now thinned-out crowd towards the exit. This evening was a success!

Now as a reward you'll spend the rest of your night on your couch, scrolling social media while half-heartedly watching TV.

[14dayswithyou]

Good day😗

Is Ren a soft Yandere? He doesn't look like a regular Yandere I know, he just looks like a soft Yandere,

And one more question, how did the name [REDACTED] come about, does it have a hidden meaning? Sorry if I repeat the question

⌞♥⌝ Next time, I'd like to kindly ask that you read the pinned post and include the secret phrase. But because I get this question asked a lot, I'll answer it now.

I personally don't think Ren is a soft yandere by any means (barring when it comes to Angel), but I do think the reason why most people view him as such is because I barely receive any yandere-esque questions on Tumblr anymore, which has lead to this somewhat sanitised outlook on Ren ^^;

I typically receive very standard, mundane, and HR-appropriate asks (/pos, /nm) that don't encroach on that territory, so Ren's overall characterisation tends to end up being watered down into "generic, overly supportive boyfriend who's secretly obsessed with you". And while I genuinely have nothing against these family-friendly asks, they also don't really give me much room to talk about Ren in a more... morbid sense jhgjhsg

It's difficult for me to turn "How would Ren react to Angel owning a pet worm?", "Does Ren know how to make spaghetti?", "Can Ren play the saxophone?", etc, into something darker than it needs to be, but I also don't want to discourage folks from sending in these kinds of questions either. I know they're just curious and want to have their headcanons acknowledged, and again, I have nothing against these types of asks.

They're definitely fun to answer (/gen), but they just... don't give me much opportunity to take it a step further ;v;

Also! I'd like folks to be more aware of the fact that Ren is literally trying to come across like a normal person in the game, so I can't exactly showcase how far he's willing to take things without portraying him incorrectly or spoiling something. I know this is somewhat of a double-edged sword, but I've always been open to answering "what if" scenarios that take place in an AU/non-canon setting (such as how Ren would react if Angel wanted to partake in his Red Room activities).

Anyways!! Enough of that >:3 You also asked about how [REDACTED] came about, and it's literally just the placeholder text Ren uses during the library scene in day 1 to hide his real name from the player!

Folks started speculating that it was Ren's real identity slipping through, so they started referring to him as "[REDACTED]". It's also my way of differentiating between Ren and [REDACTED] without having to reveal his real name.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Hi!! Wondering if you can do when thanos is fucking shy reader and then reader starts crying during the FUCKING, after that make thanos cum on readers face and he just goes to his own bed like nothing happened BTW LOVE YOUR STORY'S + HCS!!🤗 *IM SORRY IF YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND KMS*

Crybaby

Thanos x reader [SMUT]

Masterlist

You stood in the noisy room, looking for team members. You were turned around talking to someone else trying to convince them to let you join but, they didn’t want you. Said you looked too weak and they didn’t know what game they were going to play.

“Hey, excuse me?” A voice came from behind you accompanied with a tap on your shoulder. You turned and saw a purple hair guy. “Join my team”, he said confidently. You were too shy to ask questions. Already having to step out of your comfort zone to talk to other people. You nodded,

“Yes.” He eyed you a cocky grin plastered on his face. You guys all sat together. You, Purple haired guy, a longer black haired guy, another quiet guy, and a girl with piercings. You stayed with the purple haired guy.

“So, shy one, what’s your name?” He turned to you, practically jumping around in his skin.

“Uhh, my name is (y/n)(l/n)” you say quietly, turning red from embarrassment for no reason.

“My name is Thanos, welcome to the Thanos world” he made a gesture. You gave a simple half smile and turned to watch as the games began.

“Guys, what are we each good at?” The girl spoke. “We have to plan.” She said with resolve.you sat quietly, hoping you’d just get put to do a game, and not have to speak, but all eyes settled on you,

“I was always really good at Gong-Gi” you voice quietly. They nodded with consideration, planning how the rest of the games would go.

Your teams turn was up. Long haired boy went first, Ddajki. Quit guy went second, flying stone. Your turn, you focused and went as fast as you could at Gong Gi, not messing up or missing a single beat; the purple haired guy shaking you with excitement. Pierced girl went next, spinning top, and finally, Thanos. Scoring a fantastic 5 in a row a Jequi.

You were uncuffed, and let back into the common room. Sitting with your new group as they spoke loudly. You sat farther away, leaning against the beds, watching other players filter in. They all went around saying their names. Min- Su, Nam Guy, Thanos, and Se Mi.

As the rest of the players came in, you were passed food. You sat back were you were too shy to even look at anyone.

Time skip:

You laid quietly in bed by Thanos. He unashamedly, pulled his cock out. Beginning to stroke himself. He noticed your eyes watching him.

“Psst, hey.” He whispered to you. You blushed a red shade of red, thankfully, not visible.

“H-h-hey” you whispered back.

“”Since you’re staring want to help?” He asked. You stayed silence, to afraid to say anything. You slowly nodded, he got up and walked to your bed. “Pull your pants down”

“O-o-okay” you obeyed, pulling your sweats down far enough so he could get inside of you. “O-oh god, that feels good.” You half moan. Your embarrassment at your compromised position racking your brain. Thanos thrusted inside of you. Pushing and pulling out quickly.

“Oh, you like this? Huh?” He teased. You nodded. “God, you should see yourself” you couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or complimenting you. Either way, it made him laugh. Your eyes prickling with tears, you couldn’t believe it. You were about to cry. No, scratch that, you were crying. Crying as you were getting dicked down by a guy you just men.

You moaned quietly as you cried, your sniffles reaching his ears through his low grunts.

“Are you crying?” He asked, seeing the shiny tears roll down your face. “Oh god, I’m going to cum, that’s making me cum” he pulls out quickly. Jerking himself off onto your face, his body convulsing slightly with each stroke as he did. “Ah, well thanks for letting me borrow you” he said, and retreated back to him bed. Almost as if he hadn’t just fucked you. You felt ashamed, determined to find a new team tomorrow as you cried yourself to sleep.

Tag list:

@nakiio5775 @christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.4 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's very long, I don't even know how many parts it's going to have summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』 『 part 4 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

As you stood in front of your university's building, it suddenly looked a lot bigger and a lot scarier. You had no idea if Andy had told everyone else about what had gone down over the weekend, but you felt exposed already.

Each step forward was dreadful, you walked in autopilot. The blur in your vision and the ringing in your ears were such that you didn't even notice your group of friends calling for you. It was only when Jas walked over to you that you snapped out of your hypnotic state.

"Y/N? Is everything okay? We were calling for you..." She asked, searching your face.

You forced a smile and awkwardly laughed.

"You were? My bad, I was distracted." It wasn't a lie, you were distracted, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

Your friend frowned a little, but if you were making up an excuse then it was because you didn't want to talk about whatever you were going through, so she just let it go and brought you over to the place they were sitting at.

Anxiety started building up within you and you couldn't breathe as you approached the group - you didn't know if you were ready to face the consequences of your actions...

Thankfully, Andy hadn't arrived yet, and, from the way they all greeted you and spoke normally, it didn't seem like Andy had told them anything.

Being around your friends eased your mind and body, and, after a couple of minutes, you had forgotten about the reason why you had been so nervous.

That is, until the reason arrived.

"Hello, everyone."

You froze in place. The only available seat was next to you, which was fortunate, because at least you wouldn't risk making accidental eye contact with Andy.

Everyone greeted the friend, you included. He wasn't in a great mood, and everyone noticed - Andy was usually bright and chirpy from sunrise to sunset, however he seemed gloomy and tired, it was very unlike him.

The group ignored whatever was going on for as long as possible, but the conversation wasn't flowing and, at some point, the tension spread through the group and became unbearable.

"Okay, I can't pretend anymore, what the fuck happened between you two? Why is there such an awkward atmosphere in here?" Jas finally asked.

It was obvious, from the change in behaviours that came from the two of you, that you and Andy were the source of it all. The question was genuine and simple in Jas' mind, however she didn't know the Pandora's box she had just opened.

"Did you fuck or something? Was it terrible and now you can't face each other?" One of the guys joked, only furthering the awkwardness.

The friend to his right smacked his arm, but it was too late. Andy's body tensed up and he scoffed, glancing to the side.

"It wasn't me she fucked."

The statement hit everyone like a truck. The whole group wondered what that meant, but from the context clues, they picked up that you had gotten with someone close to him. Your hands balled up in fists and your world started spinning as cold sweat ran down your back.

"Whoa, what does that mean? Did one of you-" One of the guys started, pointing at the two other men at the table, but he was cut off.

"She fucked my dad."

The table went silent. Shock and disbelief painted on everyone's faces, and your anxious eyes skimmed every single one of them, looking for the least bit of sympathy.

"What?" One of them busted out, not fully convinced that he had heard correctly.

"Y/N, did that really happen?" Jas asked, trying her best to sound understanding in face of the situation.

You couldn't look at her. You looked at your hands, still balled up in your lap, and nodded.

"Like once, or?..." Another punch to the man's arm.

"Dude!" One of them called out his friend's ridiculousness and lack of awareness.

"What?! Like you're not asking yourselves the same!" He defended.

"I..." All eyes were on you, you could feel them, you could feel Andy's sorrow and hatred, as well as everyone else's curiosity and confusion "I didn't mean to do it, I don't think he did either. It just sort of... happened. And we kept in contact and..."

You were tying to be as broad as possible with the details, as to not hurt Andy (or disgust him), but he still stood up abruptly and began walking away.

"Andy! Wait!" Courage shot through you as you went after him and grabbed his wrist "I'm sorry, I really am, please... Believe me."

He turned around to face you, his crystal eyes covered with a layer of tears.

"What do you want from me? Forgiveness? Understanding? Well, I can't give you either of them. I liked you- fuck, I still do! So I'm sorry if I can't sit back and support you and... and my dad. So please, leave me alone. Maybe one day I'll get over it, but not right now, not in the foreseeable future."

You slowly let go of his hand, and a little sob escaped his lips. Not a single word was uttered as he turned around and began walking away.

You slumped back on the seat you had been sitting in, surrounded by your friends.

"I should go check on him..." One of the guys said, as he stood up and followed the way Andy had gone.

The others didn't follow, as they knew the boy would feel overwhelmed by too many people crowding him in such a vulnerable moment.

You felt Jas softly place her hand on your back, and you could see from your peripheral that she had told the other two boys to take leave as well. They patted your shoulder as they walked away, their boy-ish way of saying "good luck".

"You know what the worst part is?" You asked Jas, unable to look her in the eye.

She didn't respond, simply letting you air out whatever it was you needed to air out.

"I don't regret it. And if I somehow went back in time, I would do it again." You started "It felt like I was being pulled to him, I couldn't think of anything that didn't include him, and when we finally got together... it just felt so right."

You stopped for a second to catch your breath and wipe the tears. You lifted your head and looked at Jas, that had nothing but a pitiful expression on her face.

"It's fucked up I-I know, especially when I liked Andy. When I started going to his house I was so excited because that meant I was getting closer to my goal, but then I saw Buck- Mr. Barnes, and my world was flipped upside down. I can't pretend I don't know him, and I can't go back and pretend I don't feel like this, not when I see him whenever I look at Andy."

Your friend sighed and shook her head - what a mess. She wrapped her arm around you and squeezed your body, in a show of support.

"I'm not gonna sit here and pretend it's not fucked up to sleep with your friend's dad, especially when that friend likes you, but I'm also not going to pretend you're a villain for following your heart. It's a really complicated situation, Y/N... I really don't know what to say."

"I just... I feel sorry for Andy, but it's not a situation that I want to stop. Bucky is such a great person."

There was a small silence between the two of you, and it was clear Jas was itching to ask something.

"Am I allowed to ask what happened? And how it happened?"

"Holy shit, sweetheart... Rough day?" Bucky asked, as he kissed the top of your head and walked into your house.

"That bad, huh?" You chuckled, closing the door behind you "I guess I look like how I feel..."

You stared at how his biceps flexed as he removed his jacket and tossed it on the couch. When he turned around and saw your eyes fixated on his build, Bucky chuckled. He gently grabbed your hand as he walked to the couch, and pulled you down to his lap. The man's large arms wrapped around you, and his thumb drew shapes on your thigh as you got comfortable.

"You said we needed to talk, everything okay?" There was a glimpse of worry in his eyes, and a hint of concern in his voice as he asked that.

"My group of friends know about it..." You simply said.

Bucky's grip on you tightened at those words, and his body stiffened.

"Are you okay? What did they say?"

You sighed and turned to look at him.

"They were perplexed, mostly. And confused. I don't blame them for that... Things were a bit tense the rest of the day, the group was pretty separated, I don't think anyone knows how to feel about the whole thing."

"They didn't give you a rough time?"

You shook your head negatively.

"I think I'm the one giving myself the hardest time, it's weird. I feel guilty, but I would still have done it if we turned back in time." Bucky smiled a little at the confession, and kissed your temple lovingly. "How about you? How's Andy treating you?"

Bucky sighed, there had been a lot of that going around you recently.

"The first day he didn't sleep at home, I don't know where he slept and I was worrying all night, but if I called he wouldn't have picked up, and if I texted he wouldn't have replied, probably would have pissed him off more... He sleeps there now, at least, I try to talk to him but he's still hurting..." The man paused and swallowed, trying not to cry "I broke his trust, I know it's going to take time, but fuck, it hurts. I can't imagine how he's feeling, and it sucks not being able to be there for him 'cause I'm the source of it all but I haven't felt this way about someone in a long time. I feel like a damn school boy around you, Y/N."

Tears gathered in your eyes as you got to see the vulnerable side of someone like Bucky - a big, strong army man that almost looked mean and cold when you first saw him. You pulled his head against your chest and pet his head.

"His anger towards you will pass, you didn't know he liked you. What I did was worse, I knew exactly what he wanted, and I took it from him."

"His anger towards you will also pass, Bucky..."

He looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, now tear-stained and pain-stricken. The sight was a beautiful tragedy... You wiped away his tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

"How can you be so sure?"

"You're his dad, that bond is a lot deeper than some girl." You joked, with a small laugh.

"I don't think you realize just how special you are, and how much the simple thought of losing you hurts."

You and Bucky had spent too much time crying and thinking about all of the things that had gone down the past weekend, so when his army pal hit him up and asked him if he wanted to go for a drink, he found it to be the perfect escape for the night.

He didn't want to leave you alone, but you insisted that you'd need a long shower (and some makeup) and that it would take time, more time than you wanted him to wait, so you assure him you were fine and told him you'd meet him there.

Admittedly, you felt uncomfortable walking into the bar, it was a stereotypical "manly" place, with a pool table, chairs that dated back to before you were born, and no sight of a drink that wasn't a beer or a whiskey. You weren't dressed appropriately, you figured, as your little red dress (that you had worn to tease Bucky) was drawing a lot of attention.

You spotted "Mr. Barnes" near the bar, talking to two men and walked over to him, avoiding the stares and comments from the random men around you.

"Come on Buck, she's what? Twenty? What do you even talk about? What do you even have in common?" The tall, blonde man that Bucky was talking to said.

You held back a smile and placed one arm around Bucky's waist. He hadn't seen you coming, since his back was facing the door, but the man's face instantly lit up when he looked found that the person touching him was you.

"I'd say we have some... tastes in common, so to speak." You said, with a smile, winking at the blonde that instantly went red.

Bucky smirked at the dirty joke, and his expression was one of pride. One of his hands tapped your butt lightly, as if saying "good job", and you smiled.

You didn't take the man's comment in the wrong way, you were sure he was just looking out for his friend, but it did kind of hurt your ego that he thought you were some airhead with no real content to herself just because of your age.

"Y/N, that's Steve, my best-friend, we were in the army together," Bucky began, hinting at the tall blonde in front of him, whose face was red with embarrassment "and that's Sam. I don't like him, but he's always around."

"Real nice, Buck." Sam said, making Bucky smile faintly, a smile that he discreetly hid by taking a sip of whiskey.

"I'm sorry about my comment, miss."

"That's okay, sir," you said, mocking how proper the man sounded "I know there's a big age difference between us, but I like the guy."

Steve smiled softly, still embarrassed he'd been caught in that situation, but glad you hadn't taken offense to the comment.

"What are you drinking, sweetheart?" Bucky asked you, and although he was talking to you, his gaze was everywhere but on your eyes.

You had no idea how many drinks he had had before your arrival, but he didn't even try to hide his hungry gaze as his eyes fixated on several parts of your body.

"Espresso Martini?" You asked.

"Ooh she's a fancy one. I don't think they do anything here that mixes more than two drinks." Sam joked with a laugh.

"Didn't think so either," you laughed "but it was worth a try! I'll have a vodka redbull, then."

"Comin' right up, sweetheart." Bucky said, and turned to the bar to order.

"So, he told us how you met..." There was a hint of awkwardness in Steve's voice as he said that.

"Not under the best pretext, no..." You replied, nervously fixing your hair "It's a little awkward as it is, but I'm hoping for a good outcome."

"Sounds like you're here to stay." Sam chirped in, with a suggestive face.

"I sure hope she is!" Bucky's voice was lower than usual, his eyes were half-lidded and his cheeks were a pretty pink colour.

The man pressed a kiss to your temple and circled your waist with his arm as he handed you your drink. You giggled at his roaming hand and stared at him.

"How many of those have you had?" You asked, pointing at his cup.

Bucky looked at his drink and shrugged. You and his friends shared a laugh at his state - it was obvious that Steve was also not at 100% capacity, and Sam walked towards the same state, you'd just have to catch up to them.

You hadn't eaten much before leaving the house, as you didn't want Bucky and his friends to wait for you for too long, so a couple drinks (mixed with the fact that the bartender had been going 50/50 on the vodka and redbull quantities) had you in the same state as the trio.

Your body leaned against Bucky's for extra balance, and the latter didn't mind the closeness at all. The four of you were having a fun time, laughing at the old war stories and anecdotes from the young James Barnes and sharing stories, when a group of four men approached you.

"Hey there princess, how about you ditch the fossils and come hang out with us, we can show you a real good time."

They looked out of place in the bar (although so did you) - they wore different polo shirts and tight jeans, too tight for their own good, you reckoned. They weren't too tall, but their muscular build certainly asserted dominance.

You could feel Bucky's body tense behind you, and you could see from your peripheral how the three men sized up the other men with their eyes.

"I don't... I don't think I will."

"What? You want to spend your night with grandpa?" The tallest of the trio, a bald man with tattoos on his arms, scoffed and walked towards you, placing his arm on your shoulder.

He didn't even have time to continue his sentence, Bucky slammed down his drink and gripped the man's hand. The male forcefully removed the other guy from you, twisting his arm behind his back and kicking him in the back of the leg, causing his knees to buckle.

"I believe she said no, Caillou." Bucky growled through gritted teeth.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, old man?! Think you can fight?" Another one of them asked, pulling Bucky up by the collar of his shirt.

Before a third one could join in, Steve let go of his drink and stood in front of the man.

"Going somewhere, pal?" Steve asked, with a small smirk that displayed not happiness, but adrenaline.

"Come on, I wouldn't want to scratch up your pretty face." The other male mocked, patting Steve's cheek lightly.

Bucky's best friend simply laughed, before punching his opponent, whom stumbled back. He then threw another punch to the side of the man's face, the side that was not covered by his palms, and delivered a blow to the man's stomach, which sent him stumbling back.

"I wouldn't worry about it." Steve mocked back, looking at the man, crouching on the floor while holding his torso and face.

Bucky kept the guy that had touched you on the floor, but two others were on him. He punched and kicked, but it was a 2 versus 1 situation, and so Bucky got handed some devastating blows.

"I gotta get new friends..." Sam said, upon seeing the scene, before downing his drink in one go and stepping forward into the fight.

All you could do was stand there and watch, with a horrified expression and hands over your chest, as your boyfriend and his friends became a mess of flying wrists and arms.

Your head was spinning and you didn't know what to do, but one thing was for certain: seeing Bucky fight so wildly to defend you and your peace... it was hot.

"I'm really sorry guys... I didn't mean to cause all that." You apologized sincerely.

"Are you kidding?" Bucky scoffed "Those guys had it coming."

"Yeah, plus, it was kind of fun." Steve agreed, much to your surprise "I wish we hadn't gotten banned from the bar but..."

"I wish we hadn't gotten beaten up." Sam chimed in, making everyone laugh.

After being kicked out of the bar, none of you was in a decent state to drive home, so you just decided to walk - to sober up and calm down. Bucky noticed how your heels were dangling from your hands, and as his eyes dropped to your feet, he realized you had been walking barefoot.

"Come on, get on my back." He said, as he knelt down to make it easy for you.

"What? You can't be serious, Bucky, you're all beat up." You told him, eyeing his state.

"Wasn't an offer, sweetheart."

After that it was hard to stop the fire from spreading through your body. The boys kept on talking, but you could only focus on how close Bucky's body was to yours - your chest pressed against his back, his arms tangled with your legs, and your thighs gripping his waist.

"The state of your face, Bucky..." You complained to him, as you knelt between his legs, holding his face in one hand and the first aid kit in the other.

There was a small gash on his bottom lip, cuts on his jaw and forehead, and a bruise was already forming on his cheek.

"I've had worse." The man joked, hinting at the fact that he had served in the army, but you didn't laugh, you were too worried about his state "Come on, sweetheart, it's not that bad."

You looked at him with a serious expression, conveying how worried you were for him, and climbed on his lap, so you could work on "fixing" his face. You opened the first aid kit and began scolding him.

"Bucky... You can't get into fights every time some asshole hits on me..." You told him, as you applied some medicine to his cuts.

The man hissed at the stinging sensation on his lip.

"If I can't do that, then what do I have to give you?" He was smiling, but there was a glimpse of sadness in his eyes.

You put down the cotton swab and the bottle of medicine and looked into his eyes.

"What does that mean, James?" You asked, with eyebrows furrowed in sorrow.

Bucky sighed, and his hands ran up and down your thighs, before giving them a squeeze.

"You heard them, sweetheart, I'm old... I'm holdin' up pretty well but-"

You shut him up with a kiss, before he could say anything else.

"You're not old, Bucky. Let's start with that, you're talking as if you're some decrepit thing, you're beautiful. You do realize that I'm not exactly lacking when it comes to options of young guys, right? If I cared about age I would have a pretty wide catalog in the university I go to, you are just what I was looking for, just what I needed - and I didn't even know I needed you before I met you."

His eyes were full of emotion, and he couldn't express any of them. The only thing he could do to paint an image of what he was feeling was grab the back of your head and bring you forward, locking your lips in a tender kiss. You had never experienced such feelings in a kiss before, and the two of you had kissed many, many times. There was sorrow, sadness, gratitude, admiration, and love.

One of his large hands brought you closer, as if you were still too far away for his liking. As your kiss deepened and his tongue became more creative, your hips rolled against his, feeling his already hardened cock under you. A strained moan was muffled by your lips, and the two of you pulled away.

"I'd love to fuck you right now," he began, slapping your ass and grabbing your cheeks in the middle of the sentence "but my whole body is sore..." The man lamented.

Biting your lip, you undid his zipper and pulled his pants down slightly, just enough so you could comfortably pull his cock out from the confinement of his underwear.

You climbed down from his lap, spreading his legs gently so you could fit in between.

"Tonight, I'll take care of you." You told him, as you gripped the base of his cock and teased its tip with your tongue.

"Fuck..." He muttered under a sigh of relief, as he momentarily threw his head back against the wall.

You lips slid up and down his shaft and his tip hit against the back of your throat. As you hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue flat against the base of his cock, you felt Bucky gathering your hair in his fist, a makeshift ponytail so he could see you as well as possible.

His hips thrusted slightly, following your movements. You could tell he was holding himself back. Bucky's chest rose and fall, and a plethora of groans and curses left his lips.

You looked up, curiosity getting the best of you, and it was the most beautiful view. Bucky's mouth was agape, his eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, and his eyes had a dark veil of ecstasy. As his pupils met yours, he muttered another curse under his breath.

"Don't look at me with those eyes, pretty girl, or I won't last."

You pulled away from his cock, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip.

"Let's pick up the pace then." You teased as you stood.

You pulled your dress up just enough to remove your panties and got back on his lap. No preparation was needed, as his state alone was enough for wetness to spread between your legs.

The man just watched as you gripped his cock and easily slid down his shaft. Your moans mixed and bounced off the walls. Bucky's hands gripped your ass and you gripped his shoulders as you began to move up and down.

His eyes traveled down your body, focusing on the red dress that had been teasing him all night long.

"Fuck... you and these pretty little things you like to wear... I wanted to fuck you over the counter of that bar the second I saw you..." Bucky said in your ear, kissing the spot directly under it.

That incited a loud moan from you, as you picked up the pace. Bucky's body worked in sync with yours, his hips snapping upwards and his big hands forcing you down on his cock - any pain or soreness from the fight was long forgotten.

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was near, his clouded vision and clenched jaw were all too familiar. You held him against your chest as he buried himself deep in you one last time. You could feel his cock twitch within you, spilling his cum.

Bucky held the back of your head and caught you in a deep kiss, exchanging a million silent words.

You stared at the man standing on your porch and your heart began beating on your chest. You parked your car and exited the vehicle, that took no longer than five seconds, but it felt like hours as thoughts ran through your mind - why was Andy at your house? Why was he waiting for you?

The week that had passed was filled with awkward silences and tense conversations, so much so that the group had pretty much divided itself to prevent the weird atmosphere that had ensued - you'd sometimes hang out with one half, and then you'd hang out with the other. You felt bad for your friends, it felt like they had to take turns to spend time with everyone...

"Andy... Hi." You greeted, trying to hide the nervousness "Do you want to-"

"Do you like him? Do you have feelings for him?" He was cutthroat and went directly to the issue, to the core of the reason why he was there, as Andy didn't seem like he wanted to spend a long time in your presence.

The question was deafening, it was something you hadn't even admitted to Bucky himself, it was something you knew the answer to, but you had never voiced it out loud.

You took a deep breath and looked at Andy.

"I do." Your voice was firm and determined, as if it had been something you struggled with, when in reality coming to terms that you did have feelings for a man like that was the easiest that you ever had to do, but admitting it to his son, your friend... that was rough.

There was sorrow in his eyes as he heard the answer. Andy pressed his lips together in an understanding smile as he slowly nodded.

"Why?"

You thought you had heard wrong. Was he asking "why" you had feelings for his dad, "why" you had done it, "why" your feelings for Andy had come to a halt...

"What?"

He sighed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Why do you like him?"

"I mean..." You swallowed thickly and licked your lips, there was no way to word why you had come to like Bucky so much without being cheesy "He's always on the forefront when it comes to protecting me, even when I was just your friend to him, he went out of his way to get rid of a group of guys that were harassing me. He's really kind, he treats me well and although he has this rough exterior he's really sensitive and loving." You paused and look into Andy's sad eyes "He cares about you, very much, and he feels really sorry..."

"I know he does... That's why this is so hard for me. I would've expected it if he was a deadbeat who didn't give a shit about me, but he's always been there, he's always been my best-friend and now... I still love him, I don't think I will ever not love him, but it was an unexpected blow." Those words were hard for Andy, you could tell.

His voice was breaking and cracking, as if he had to physically pull them out of his throat.

"I came down here because I wanted to know... I needed to know if you and my dad were just a fling or it was an actual thing." The boy struggled with his words, and so did you, wanting everything to be as broad and un-specific as possible.

"Is it better that I like him?" You asked, unsure if that was the answer he was looking for.

Andy shrugged. The boy himself was not sure what answer he was searching for, and what outcome would be best.

"In a way it's better that you actually like him, because then you weren't just crewing up things between us for a one night stand, but in the long run it might hurt me more. I-I don't know..."

"I'm sorry, Andy..."

"Yeah, you've said that, you and him." He said, with a cynical chuckle, which struck you deeply "I'm not saying I will never forgive you, I eventually will, you were a good friend to me, but right now I can't be the bigger person and just forgive you both."

"I can wait." You said with a small, sympathetic smile.

Andy just nodded, and bid you a silent goodbye. There wasn't exactly closure, and it wasn't the conclusion you had hoped for (or expected), but it was better than nothing.

You stood on your porch, watching as he left, thinking about what had just happened, and trying to process what it all meant.

"Hey."

You snapped your head in the direction of the very familiar voice.

"Bucky, hey! Andy just left, actually." You told him, as you pointed towards the direction his son had gone in.

"I know, I got here a while ago, but it didn't seem like a conversation I should be a part of."

"So you were nearby... waiting?" You realized.

"Yes." The man responded simply.

"So did you hear..."

You hoped the answer was negative, you prayed it was negative.

"I did."

Oh. What a nightmare. You had just indirectly confessed to him, he had heard you tell his son how much you liked him. It was too soon, you hadn't been together for long, and it wasn't something you wanted him to know yet.

"Oh... It's okay if you don't feel the same, I mean it hasn't been a long time so I get it but-"

"Don't do that." Bucky interrupted your rant, with a serious tone.

You had been averting your gaze, too nervous to meet his stare, but at that sentence, you looked up into his eyes.

"Do what?" You asked.

"Act like you're somehow not enough for me to feel the same. Act like what we have isn't special, and act like I wasn't obsessed with you from the very start."

Bucky stepped forward and cupped your face with his hands.

"There's no use in denying what we feel, Y/N, and time doesn't fucking matter because a day with you feels like a second, it's never enough. So don't focus on the days we spent, let's just focus on the days we have ahead, okay? The sooner we start our journey, the more time we will have to enjoy it, together."

You were too choked up to respond, you could only wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss.

"Fuck me like you want to make me yours forever." You whispered, looking straight into his eyes.

Bucky instantly grabbed your thighs with his hands, making you wrap his legs around his waist as he hurriedly carried you inside of the house.

For the first time, when he laid you on your bed, he took his time. He removed his clothes first, and then slowly peeled your off of every item you wore, taking in your curves like you were a piece of art at the Louvre.

He kissed the skin between your breasts and played with them softly, before trailing his lips down your body, eyes locked on yours drinking your every expression. The man kissed the inside of your thighs, taking his time before eating you out. His tongue tasted you hungrily, and, although he tried taking his time, Bucky's desperation showed - he couldn't get enough of you.

"Bucky please..." You begged, unable to wait any longer.

He listened to your pleas instantly, locking your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, before slipping into you so easily that it felt like a puzzle coming together.

This time, he didn't let you go. He held you close and looked into your eyes as he fucked you, listening to your every command, to your every noise like it was music.

And, when the two of you came in sync, promises of staying together forever came out in unison.

"minors dni" banner credit - @cafekitsune

taglist: @bookofriverr ; @starfly-nicole ; @deafening-roar-of-angry-students ; @blackhawkfanatic

Thank you so much for the support 🩷 I haven't proofread it yet, sorry for any mistakes

[cloversnstrawberries]

could you do platonic leon kennedy with his child that tried to escape him but failed, like how would he punish them?

"code 10-110" platonic!dad!yandere!leon s. kennedy & teen!runaway!gn!reader [oneshot] ! !

masterlist !

description; You know your dad meant well, but after he takes it way too far-- you decide to break free from his hold. Really, you should've known that you couldn't outrun him for long. After all, you were his kid, and he'd go to the end of the Earth to keep you safe (and by his side).

additional notes; hello!! i'm not sure if you aiming for headcanons or not, but i decided to do a oneshot!! i hope i did the concept justice,,, you're all very big brained when it comes to ideas. i love requests so much, because i don't think i ever would've come up with this idea; but i had so much fun writing it.

also, fun fact, i was in the gotham fandom for a long while!! i know a lot of police stuff because of that, so i vaguely remembered the "10 codes" from the get. 10-110 is a code for juvenile disturbance :D

warnings; Leon is Not Well, overprotectiveness, possessiveness, entrapment, running away, manipulation (more so of reader's environment more than reader themselves), cops/law enforcement, vague talk of violence/murder, and there ight be more I missed :[ if I missed one, please let me know! ^^

w/c; 4.5k

You didn't think you'd get this far.

Not for a lack of care in your plan-- no, you couldn't have been more careful as you planned everything and anything involved in your escape. Months passed before you enacted it. You bided your time, until you heard the birds outside start singing in the morning-- and when your dad came in to take away the space heater.

It was spring, and while you didn't know the exact date while locked away in a deceptively cozy, comfortable cell-- made to look like a bedroom, like your bedroom--, but he'd locked you away in September, so... around 5-6 months, you'd been holed up in there.

Your dad wasn't always like how is now, you think. Maybe there were traces of it-- but that was easily written off as him being a run-of-the-mill overprotective dad. He worked in law enforcement, he'd seen the worse humanity could offer and more.

And for that, you'd given him some slack. You tried not to snap at him when he made sure you weren't out of the house past 8, and that he had to have met a friend before you so much as hung out-- and god forbid sleepovers, those were reserved for only the most trustworthy friends with the must trustworthy of family.

There were a lot of rules when it came to interacting with you. Really, you tried not to let it get to you; but it was so... isolating. No one wanted to be your friend, and they especially didn't want to try and ask you out. It was like a death sentence, in their minds.

They took one look at your dad, and decided that'd he'd be the type to see you off to prom with a bullet in the head of your date. He's not like that. He doesn't kill people for it, for being near you or anything.

He'd never outwardly rude or violent about it either. But still, it was overbearing. It had gotten worse as you got older-- as he went on more missions, and after every one, he'd come back a little bit different.

A little bit more intense with his previously manageable protective nature-- you were starting to feel like a bird kept in a gilded cage. The list of rules he held you and your friends by was so long that even you couldn't keep track of it anymore,

Eventually, everyone left you. Ruled you off as the kid with a crazy dad that owns more guns and weapons then the average kid could've ever imagined.

You don't blame him for it-- not really. You understood it. He'd sat you down and explained to you time and time again, apologized for the way he was-- he just wanted you safe.

It all came to a head when he went a step too far.

15 minutes. That's all you'd been late by-- 15 goddamn minutes. He'd lowered the curfew from 8 to 7:30, then 7--

And eventually, it was down to fucking 5:00. You couldn't be out of the house without him being present after 5! Not even for a job! Nothing! He made no exceptions, and it irritated you to no end.

In an act of textbook teenage rebellion (not really, if you tried telling that to anyone around your age then they'd laugh in your face, call it a pathetic attempt at defiance) , you stayed out a little later than necessary. You popped into a gas station on the way back home from hanging out at the local library, got a bag of candy, and took your sweet old time walking home.

You knew there'd be consequences; but the ones you'd expected, like being unable to walk anywhere anymore, or losing privleges like your computer or TV, or even being grounded...

Well, safe to say that what he ended up choosing blew those other options far, far out of the water.

Anxiety curled in your gut as you thought about it more and more, the idea that you thought for sure you wouldn't make it this far. By no means did this make you feel any safer than you had before-- if anything, it puts you more on edge.

Honestly, you don't know what you thought you'd get out of this. You can't go to the cops-- you're just another runaway. Your dad hadn't skimped out on the story he wove about you,

When you first got out-- first pried your way out of that basement, bathed in mockingly warm light-- all the amenities your average teenager could ask for, save for the ability to leave--, you'd made the mistake of trying to head to the police station.

It was stupid, you realize. And nearly got yourself caught in less than 30 minutes-- they'd ushered you in, listened to your tale of how your dad trapped you down in a basement. The town had to have been buzzing, and you'd wrongfully assumed that your dad had been playing up the 'grieving father going through hell and back to try and find their kid'.

Luck. That's all you had on your side, pure, dumb luck that you got out of there in time. That the walls of the precinct were thin enough for you to hear the cops talking about you in the other room. They weren't much for hushed tones, which was stupid when they talking about someone in the room right next to them.

The chief had been called over, you think. Sounded like him. But regardless of who he was, what he said hit you like a ton of bricks, no matter the person behind it.

"You got Kennedy's kid? Ain't they sicker than a dog, though? Bedbound, didn't he say?" Then another one, the younger one that seemed the most trustworthy when she'd pulled you into the building, and gave you some water and a blanket, corrected the man, "He never said what kind of sick, sir. It might be... in their head, and I don't think he ever said bedbound. Just stuck in the house."

Blood rushed in your ears, grip tightening on the little paper cup in your hand. You fought against the primal urge to flee, to bolt straight up and scramble to the door you'd entered from; no regard for what or who you might of disturbed or knocked into/over.

Instead, you'd stood-- shaking, but trying to keep calm, and walked to the back. You headed out the employee entrance, where they'd clock in and out, you think.

You didn't run until you were a good ways away, until you got to a more residential part of the town. Frantically, like a startled animal, you darted past houses and through backyards; running in the general direction of a train track nearby.

God-- you don't know how you got it in your head that train hopping was the easiest way to hightail it out of there, but now, you're very much of the opinion that you will never do that again.

Maybe it was because it was your first time-- or maybe these things never get easier as you keep doing them-- but you were a hairs length away from losing a leg.

No.

You stayed on foot, or on greyhound buses and the occasional passenger train with the small bits of cash you could scrounge up before your escape from the house.

With no particular destination in mind, you found yourself in some non-descript, decrepit convenience store. The tiled floors were cracked and dirty, looking like they'd give you the black plague if you touched them head on; the fluorescent lights above bathed the store in a sickly sort of yellow hue, the buzzing seeming louder than it was supposed to be.

But hey, you weren't a code inspector. You'd gained nothing from ragging on the decrepit state of the place-- it was good enough, to grab some supplies. There were no bugs, and the displays were kept neat and clean; that's all you can really ask for, in a place like this.

When you got up to the checkout lane, the woman manning the register gave you a wary sort of look, on you've become rather accustomed to.

"Where you headin' to, sweetheart? I never seen you 'round these parts before." These sorts of conversations were a dime a dozen, you'd realized. It was only fair, for people to be worried about a random kid wandering about, seemingly unaccomponied by any guardian-- or even a friend.

But, you'd also become accustomed to answering these kinds of questions. To quickly shut them down with a soft hum and a "My aunt. I'm visiting her for a little bit."

You must've gone further south than you'd thought-- it was warm, and muggy, especially for spring. Her accent was heavier than you'd ever heard before, something you don't come across in the midwest. The kind of accent you only get if you've spent your whole life in the south, and never intend to leave it.

It might've been your lack of accent that set off alarm bells in her head, her hand stopping mid-scan. "What's her name, darl'? I bet I know her. Towns like these, you end up knowin' everyone by name."

Ah.

Yeah... that was a bit of a problem. Small towns and all-- but you can't really step into a big city either, yeah? It'd be crawling with cops, and you'd stick out like a sore thumb. Even more so than you do now.

"She's in the town over." You quickly pulled from your ass, but she didn't start scanning again "The next town is a 30 minute drive."

You bite your tongue, trying not to let irritation rise. She meant well, you're sure, but the longer you're here, the more of a chance you get discovered.

"I'm travelling by greyhound. The next bus comes in 10 minutes, and my bus stop is halfway across the city." There, that should put a fire under her feet, right? Make her start scanning again-- a solid enough answer to ease her worries, you hope.

For a moment, you were afraid she wouldn't. That'd she try to lead you to a backroom and call the cops, report a possible runaway. That was something that happened a lot, too. People who meant well, surely, but in the end-- all they could do was harm.

You don't want to think about how your dad would react. How he would punish you for this.

Then, as if angels were shining down from Heaven itself-- she started moving again, and the rest of the transaction went smoothly.

Though, the concern never eased from her eyes. You could still feel her gaze, piercing against your back as you made haste out of the convenience store.

Truth is, you... actually don't know when the next bus was. Or where it was going to. In all honesty, you'd been planning on taking a train out, but that wouldn't be here for a couple hours. You never did much research with it-- beyond making sure it wasn't going to some big city.

But, with a fire started under your own feet, you were forced back to the bus stop, and made to board the very next bus; no matter the desitination.

It seemed like your luck was running out now, as one-way country roads turned into four-lane highways, and when skyscrapers started coming into view; and the sign, declaring "ATLANTA - 5 MILES AHEAD"

You let yourself mumble a little curse, under your breath as you anxiously watched the traffic around you. This wasn't how this was meant to go. Yeah, you're in Georgia-- a far cry from the state of corn, wheat, and soy that you hail from, but still.

Not good.

It's almost certain your face was floating around on various TV programs, missing posters covering light posts and bulletin boards alike-- but you hoped and prayed to anything that'd listen that the efforts to make people aware of your disappearance hadn't stretched outside of your county, or at least your homestate.

But other than being caught, being in a city posed other risks. A lone-travelling teenager wasn't a good thing to be in places like these. You could easily get lost amongst the crowds, yes; but sometimes that worked in your favor, and sometimes it didn't.

This was not one of those times.

You hadn't showered in a while-- a week and a half. Gross? Sure, you'll admit that much; but showering wasn't on your top priority. Escaping your dad was your biggest concern right now, and personal hygiene wasn't something that could trump that need at any rate.

But that singled you out. You were dirty, looked homeless. As you cut through a park, you noticed that various hostile architecture covering nearly every bench around. Ads for Salvation Army and local homeless shelters right by them.

It was obvious this place wouldn't take too kindly to you, if they were trying as hard as you think they are at cracking down on homelessness.

Right before you could exit the park-- you noticed a cop. You eyed them, keeping watch, making sure they don't spot you. What was the chance, that they would? Or if they did, that they'd even care? It looked like they were on break, anyhow.

Just when you deemed yourself in the clear, enough to take your eyes off the officer and focus your gaze ahead of yourself, did you hear someone shout "Hey!"

Maybe it wasn't for you.

It probably wasn't,

but you couldn't take the chance. Regardless of the intent, of who it'd really been aimed it-- if it was even the cop that said it, you took off running. No doubt looking suspicious as hell, in the meanwhile.

Behind you, your paranoia was proven correct when you heard the same voice calling "We got a code 10-110 in Freedom park! Looks to be in early to mid teens, on foot!" You sped up at that-- you didn't recognize the code, obviously. You didn't spend too much time familiarizing yourself with police codes, y'know,

But it didn't bode well at all, how they started describing you to a goddamned T, right down to your brown, fur-lined bomber jacket you'd snagged from the coat closet back home.

You pushed your body harder, lungs burning and throat closing up with fear-- this can't be how it ends. It just can't. You won't let it, you'd rather jump in the Chattahoochee river and swim your way down to Florida then get caught like this.

In your panic, you lost your footing. A loose pebble worked its way under your shoe, and sent you tumbling forward and sprawled out on the hard, unforgiving concrete of a city sidewalk. People avoided you-- especially when, before you could even get up on your knees, the cop grabbed you and kept you down, shouting what sounded like gobble-dee-gook through the radio they'd unclipped from their hip.

In the end, it was a goddamn pebble that took you out! A pebble! You can't even be that mad, it was so ridiculous-- sure, if you thought harder, then that pebble never would've tripped you up if you weren't noticed and subsequently chased by that cop, and you never would've been in Atlanta if you hadn't lied through your teeth to that random, well-meaning southern lady--

You could do this all day, track all your little slights and mistakes to that one harrowing, terrible moment that it all came crashing down.

Two months and 17 days.

That's how long you'd made it.

That's it.

Really, you should be proud of yourself. Again, you never expected yourself to make it that long-- but still, it did nothing to quell that world-ending despair you felt that it'd come to an end.

If anything, it hurt more, that'd you'd lasted longer. You really thought you had a chance, only for a pebble to slip you up, and have shipped right back to your dads arms.

Right back to the basement, that's significantly more bare than before. There were still the basics, but all your magazines, books, journals, your TV, CD player, 3DS, PS3-- everything. Just... Everything was gone, except for the furniture, some clothes, and your blankets and pillows.

Though, he didn't take your stuffed animals. Maybe you should've felt insulted at that, find a way to twist it and make it seem like he was treating you as a child (which, for the record, he absolutely was; but for other reasons).

It'd just be a waste of energy, though. He was like a brick wall now-- those little flinches, the sad looks that'd sometimes find its way on his face, how his apologies sounded so genuine at times...

They were all gone, replaced with a cold sort of determination you'd only seen your dad have when he was working on a particularly high-stakes mission.

You curled up tighter, clutching the Invader Zim GIR plush you'd gotten for your 8th birthday closer to your chest; seeking whatever comfort you could, now that were back here.

Not even home. You refuse to think of this place as home anymore, especially not your dressed-up cell. Even if it had carpet floors instead of cold tiles, and the walls painted a sky blue instead of a dingy grey; you still saw it for what it was.

A prison. And while your dad might've tried to change your opinion on it before, after your little 'stunt', as he'd dubbed it, he all but leaned into your perception of the space.

You heard the door click. And once upon a time, you would've rushed to it; hoped that you could shoulder your way past your dad-- only for him to laugh and think you were just happy to see him. You let him believe that at the time.

And now, you just flip over. You defiantly face the wall, not giving your dad the time of day. It was the only way you could fight back now, and even then you knew it was useless. That he'd force you to engage regardless of what you did,

That, realistically, your silent treatment couldn't last long at all. Eventually, you'll need to talk to him. To ask him for more toothpaste, or make a specific request for dinner; or even ask him the date.

He never told you the last one, always giving you wildly differing answers that'd thrown you off at first, before you caught on. Caught onto how he was trying to keep out of the know on the weather, so you wouldn't try and book it when the weather was more hospitable.

Even as you felt the mattress deep near the end of your metal-framed, twin-sized daybed; you didn't stir. You didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe; like a rabbit caught in the teeth of a tricky fox.

"Kid, you can't keep doing this." You don't answer him. This was by far the longest you'd been able to keep up with this small, but meaningful, act of rebellion. A few days, at least. You don't a way of tracking it indefinitely, but you've figured out a less concrete way of telling the passage of time.

That being how often he visited. It differed, sometimes he'd go longer without visiting, and other times he'd pop up every what-felt-like 30 minutes or so. There was no telling what mood he'd be in for the day, but you managed.

It's been a while, you know that much. And he was getting rather impatient, even if he tried to mask it. You haven't so much as looked his direction this whole time, only getting up and moving around when the coast was clear. When there was neither hide nor hair of your dad's presence,

Save for the camera, stuck up in the corner near the door. You know it's there-- it's a new addition, and you make a point of not looking at it, refusing to acknowledge it. You knew there was a good chance it was just a scare tactic, that it wasn't actually hooked up...

But still, you had to stick with this. You had to be going somewhere with this, after all.

A heavy sigh came next, then your dad shifted from where he sat at the end of the bed. Scooting up, closer to you. It took all you had not to curl up tighter. You had to stay still. You had to act like you weren't there, like you were just a ghost.

When his hand landed on your shoulder, you couldn't help but flinch a little at it. Even though the contact was soft, kind; just like the man who'd raised you all by his lonesome, though his current behavior was a far cry of who he used to be.

Or maybe, just what your perception of him had been. Maybe he was always like this, he just... snapped. Couldn't take it anymore and decided to put his worries to rest for the foreseeable future.

"Listen," You wish you didn't. You wish you could shut off your brain and just lay there, truly motionless; unseeing, unhearing, and unmoving, until he gave up and left you alone.

He knew you had to, though. Otherwise he wouldn't hve kept talking. You have nothing else to do, no other viable option but to listen to what he has to say-- whatever ultimatum he's come up with now.

You won't fold. You won't give in, you tell yourself. Not now, not ever; not until he gives up for good, and lets you back into society.

(deep down, you know that was never an option. especially now. you knew that he had his claws deep in you, that he wasn't going to let go. that he wouldn't dare to, lest his precious, sweet child get hurt along the way)

(it was all for your own good, he'd tell you. you never believed him. maybe he did believe that himself, but you knew better; you knew that, at the core of it, this was for his own benefit. keeping you locked up, away from the world-- it minimized the worries he had about you getting hurt.)

(about you being taken away from him, like so many people before you had. so many loved ones, friends, families, significant others-- he can't have the cycle repeating with you. he just can't. anyone else, anyone else but you.)

His hold on your shoulder tightened. Just a little, but it still made your haunches raise; made the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight. You hope he didn't notice.

"The sooner you accept this, the sooner your punishment will end, okay? This is for your own good."

Don't do it, you told yourself-- don't you dare, you don't need to respond--

"You keep saying that." Your voice was rough and croaky from disuse, and you cleared your throat to try and take a little bit of the edge off. You could almost feel the brightness and warmth of your dads smile, bearing into your back-- now that you finally deemed him worthy enough of a response. "And I'll keep saying it, as long as I mean it."

You huffed-- his definition of punishment had always been... loose. He never took it out on you, rather on others. He wasn't violent or rude per se, but if one of your friends were present when you two got into a tight spot...

Well. Let's just say your dad can yell like a drill sergeant if he's pushed to it. And that those friends never showed their faces around you again, in fear of inciting his wrath again. And you don't blame them.

But he's never done that to you, no-- you were his precious little angel, of course. He'd much sooner blame himself for being too 'lax' on you, that he left any doubt in your head that he didn't mean the best for you.

It was all very backhanded, how he assumed that you running away was not because of how insanely overprotective he was being-- but because he wasn't being overprotective enough.

Really, someone needs to study his brain. Maybe he got something in his system when he was on a mission, that crossed wires in his brain and made him think that this was perfectly fine. Lying about your kid being ill and locking you away for no fault of your own.

You two lapse into an uncomfortable silence, but not for long. No. Never for long, not with your dad around.

"I'm sorry you feel this way." There it is. He always says that-- not 'I'm sorry I'm basically holding you captive in the basement' or 'I'm sorry for not taking your thoughts, feelings, and dreams into consideration'. No, it's always 'i'm sorry you feel this way' or 'i'm sorry that you don't like it here',

Always followed up by an excuse, which speaking of, should be coming right about... "But there was no way around it. I just want the best for you, kid."

There we go-- he says that one a lot, 'there was no way around it'. You go to argue, but decide against it. It never gets you anywhere, and you consider going back to the silent treatment.

Until his hold on your shifted-- he flipped you over and pulled you up to sit. It never failed to spook you, how easily he could still move you around like you were a toddler. He worked as a government agent-- duh, he's going to be strong, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

He could snap you like a goddamned toothpick if he so wished-- but you knew that wasn't a concern, not in the slightest. You much more afraid of him snapping anyone who was unfortunate to get close to you like a toothpick.

And then, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you close. The sort of side-hug was uncomfortable for you, physically speaking. Your neck straining at the angle it landed in, and you not caring enough to make nay move to alleviate it.

Surely, your dad noticed it-- but didn't comment on it. He did shift a little, though. Tried to have you more comfortable.

It worked a bit, but not by much. You couldn't be bothered to try any further.

"I love you, kid. You know that, don't you?" All he got in response was a little grunt, short and curt. What followed was the saddest little laugh you'd ever heard from your dad. "I know, I know. It doesn't feel like that, but I really am trying."

He pulled you closer, the hug feeling more like a boa constrictor's embrace than the comforting hold of a parent. "I can't lose you. I can lose anything else, but not you. Not my kid."

That part, you believed. Just for the clear, rock-solid resolve in his tone. You know he loves you-- you know that he doesn't want to lose you,

and that was part of the problem, a major one, no less.

"...I love you too." You manage to cough out, and only then did he release you from the ever-tightening, awkward side hug. As soon as you were free, you flopped right back on your side.

You didn't flip around to the face the wall just yet, thought. And your dad took that as an invitation for conversation-- you weren't too active in it, but you did give some input here and there.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie tiptoed into his bedroom and pressed a finger to his lips. Chrissy was fast asleep, curled up on the other side of the bed.

"Are you sure she'll be okay with this?" Steve asked.

"Of course, your parents are home. Chrissy understands that more than anyone. Why do you think she's here so much?" Eddie whispered.

"Because she's your girlfriend, and she likes spending time with you?" Steve asked.

"Well, that, too," Eddie grinned. "According to her, it's a thousand times better here than her house."

"I agree," he whispered.

"Thank God, we have a house now instead of that tiny ass trailer. Doubt we could have fit all of us," Eddie said.

Eddie slid into the bed behind Chrissy and patted the empty spot next to him. Steve crawled in behind him and let Eddie throw the covers over them.

"Goodnight, and thank you for letting me stay here," Steve said.

"Anytime, big boy," Eddie said.

It was early in the morning when Chrissy woke before anyone else. She smiled at Eddie, his face pressed to the pillow. She always loved watching him sleep. His arm was thrown over her, and she touched it, her hand trailing upward until it came into contact with the arm that was wrapped around Eddie. Chrissy frowned. That was NOT her arm. She looked over Eddie and found Steve sleeping on the other side of him. She grinned and tapped Eddie's face. He woke up and smiled.

"Hey, gorgeous," Eddie said.

"Steve is sleeping in our bed," Chrissy said.

"Oh, uh, yeah, his parents are home, and he didn't have anywhere else to go," Eddie whispered.

"Good call," Chrissy smiled.

"Chrissy. . .," Eddie trailed off and paused.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Can we keep him?" He asked, his big brown eyes wider than ever before. "Pleeasse?"

Chrissy couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her. He was just too damn cute. They both were. Steve snorted awake and glanced at Chrissy.

"Oh, good morning," Steve said, his cheeks turning red.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said.

She leaned forward and gave Eddie a kiss on the lips before doing the same with Steve. She went into Eddie's ensuite bathroom, closing the door behind her.

"Does that mean we can keep him?!" Eddie yelled.

"Yeah!" She yelled back. "But he's not a dog, Eddie!"

"Tell that to his fucking eyes, babe," Eddie said and she giggled.

"You want to keep me?" Steve asked in soft voice.

Chrissy washed her hands and hopped out of the bathroom. She jumped onto the bed and straddled Steve’s hips.

"We're definitely keeping you," Chrissy said.

She started placing kisses all over his face. Eddie cackled gleefully and joined in, causing Steve to giggle. After showering him with kisses, Chrissy snuggled in between her two men, ready to get some more sleep. It was still rather early.

The next time Chrissy and Eddie woke up, it was to the smell of bacon. Steve was no longer in the bed with them. They quickly scrambled out of bed and went to the kitchen where Steve was cooking breakfast. Wayne was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a gardening magazine.

"Is Steve planning on moving in, too?" Wayne asked.

"Moving in?" Eddie and Chrissy asked.

"Darling, when was the last time you were at your parents' house?" Wayne asked Chrissy.

"Oh. . .well, I guess it's been a while," Chrissy said with a frown.

"I was gonna tell you," Wayne said and put down the magazine. "The other day, your parents came back and dropped off a box with the rest of your stuff. I just didn't know how to break it to you, that they didn't want to see you."

"Oh. . .that's okay, Wayne," Chrissy said and paused. "I'm actually relieved. I didn't want to see them either. I know now where I'm actually wanted. I just hope you don't have a problem with it."

"Not all, sweetheart, you're definitely wanted around here," Wayne said. "Steve, too. We got plenty of room now to figure it all out."

"Look at you, Uncle Wayne," Eddie grinned. "At least I know where I get my whole collecting lost sheep thing from."

"Did he just call us sheep?" Steve asked.

"It's a compliment, sheep are cute," Chrissy said.

"They are fluffy," Steve grinned and ran a hand through his hair.

Chrissy moved over and hugged Wayne before kissing his cheek.

"Thank you, Wayne," she said.

"You and Steve make my boy here very happy," Wayne said. "You're both great kids. I'm happy to have you guys here."

Eddie placed an obnoxiously loud kiss right on Wayne's bald spot.

"You old softie," Eddie said.

He gestured for Chrissy to sit down at the table, and then he fixed them both a cup before joining his uncle.

"Admit it, Wayne," Steve said with a grin. "You just want me and Chrissy around because we both know how to cook."

"Aw, hell, you got me," Wayne said sarcastically.

"I knew it," Steve said seriously.

They all laughed as Steve handed out plates, and they settled down to a nice breakfast. Eddie and Chrissy kissed him both, thanking Steve for the delicious meal. Steve gave a crooked smile, blushing as they all ate in a comfortable silence. After breakfast, Wayne insisted on cleaning up, putting his foot down when Chrissy tried to help. He kissed all three of his kids' foreheads and ushered them out of the house so they could enjoy the morning. It was a completely different porch, nice and wide, but Eddie still insisted on keeping a couch out there. It was a nice idea, Chrissy thought as she curled up on the couch with them, and they all drank their second cup of coffee.

"This is nice," Steve said as he breathed in the fresh air and the other two hummed in agreement.

They watched the house across from them. Max insisted on still being across the Munsons, claiming them to be alright neighbors. It was high praise coming from her. Max's bedroom window opened, and a figure came tumbling out. It was Lucas. Eddie and Steve shared a look. No surprise there. Although, they both knew they weren't doing anything other than kissing and sleeping. . .at least Chrissy hoped not yet. The next figure that came out wasn't that much of a surprise either, considering that El was Max's best friend. Max leaned out the window and gave Lucas a goodbye kiss. Their eyebrows rose when she did the same with El.

"You know you could have used the door," Max's voice was heard from across the small road.

"It was more fun this way," El said.

"Totally," Lucas grinned.

"Dorks," she said affectionately.

Lucas and El took each other's hands before walking over to their bikes parked in front of Max's house. Max was watching them when her eyes caught Chrissy's, Eddie's, and Steve's. She froze. El and Lucas caught a glimpse of them as well. They couldn't help but freeze along with Max. Chrissy smiled. She enter laced her fingers with Steve and Eddie's before holding them up, letting them know they were safe. They breathed a sigh of relief. Max moved back inside while the other two rode off on their bikes, waving.

"Looks like we're not the only ones starting something new," Steve grinned.

Chrissy beamed as a bird fluttered by, singing as the sun shone down upon them. It was certainly a beautiful morning. They deserved this. Happiness. Love. Not a dark cloud in sight.

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

So writer's block and health had me in a headlock for a few months, but as usual, can't keep me down forever...

tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson, @genesisarclite and @constellation2330

(As usual, the tags are read if you like, post if you like, no pressure!)

from the upcoming chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand

"Company?" he asked quietly; she nodded. Moving quickly, he set one of the armchairs at an angle to the door, then pulled his .45 and double-checked the safety. At her look of confusion, he mouthed Trust me and gestured her over.

By the time they heard heavy footsteps outside the door, they'd arranged themselves: she was curled on his lap, one arm curved around his waist. It was the very picture of an intimate moment—except for the pistols hidden at their sides, ready for action. There was no knock; only the smash of wood as the lock tore free. As one, their arms snapped up, weapons pointed at the unarmored head of Mei's security "chief". "Well, now," Sam said, his voice full of false geniality, "were we expectin' a guest?"

"Guests knock," Cait said coldly, and clicked the hammer back. Like him, Cait preferred a .45, though hers was the more modern XM-2311, complete with suppressor. "People who smash in the door get shot."

Stocker growled. "You wouldn't—" The suppressor twitched to the side, and Cait put a bullet in the doorframe a bare inch from Stocker's face. They snapped their head back. "You crazy bitch!"

"She don't appreciate bein' interrupted," Sam said, the cheer gone from his voice. "Neither do I. So give me one good reason why the next one doesn't end up between your eyes."

Stocker's jaw set mutinously, but they'd been caught dead to rights; like most bullies, they were essentially a coward. "Mei wants you downstairs," they growled.

"Then I suggest you turn yourself around and let Ms. Devine know we'll be down in good time," he replied, the bonhomie back in his voice as if it had never gone. Without taking his eyes off Stocker, he leaned over to capture Cait's lips in a kiss.

"You just made a big mistake," Stocker snarled. "Don't think I'm going to forget this."

Though she returned the kiss with interest, Cait's pistol never wavered. Sam was starting to get a little distracted when she finally broke it off. "You should rethink that," she told Stocker, cool as Akilan winter. "My Sam's a fair man. Everybody gets one mistake. This is your one."

The merc snarled incoherently, then turned and stomped away. Sam waited until he heard the ding of the elevator to holster his sidearm; once Cait followed suit, he cupped her cheek in his hand. "Your Sam, huh?" he murmured—saw the beginnings of a blush and gave her a quick, appreciative kiss to forestall it. "I do love it when you get all possessive."

She made a grumbly little sound somewhere between embarrassment and annoyance—well, that primal part of her was still a sensitive topic, and all he could do was reassure her when it came up. "How long do we leave Devine hanging?" she asked.

"Long enough to make it clear we're not playing her game," he said firmly. "I don't see Stocker coming up here without Devine's say-so—"

"They didn't," Cait confirmed. "But I couldn't tell whether they broke in on orders or for the fun of it. I think they'd enjoy it either way." She shook her head. "'I won't forget this?' Where'd they get their dialogue, Republic Serial Villain Academy?" She snickered a little. "Will we rue the day?"

Sam couldn't hold back a bark of laughter. "Someone's going to, that's for damn sure."

[hemoglobinjuicebox]

Hello again! Thanks for answering my ask about requests. I’d love to request a fic where the Reader is dealing with nightmares from either past memories or stress from their adventures, so Astarion comforts them. Perhaps he finds little ways to distract them from their discomfort through talking or a mini massage/playing with their hair until they fall back to sleep. Thank you for considering my request! <3

Hi!! This prompt ate at my brain all day <3 I love it so much

The light around you was a perfect morning gold. The air was crisp and clear; it always was on summer mornings like this. The hand was tender on your cheek. Its palm was warm and its fingers delicate. It held you as if you were the most precious thing in all the world. Lips that smiled so sweetly whispered in your ear, filling your stomach with butterflies. Had you ever been so happy?

Those fingers trailed the curve of your jaw to your neck, their featherlight touch tickling your skin. You laughed. So did that smile. It kissed your forehead. Every part of you was elated, floating in bliss.

Ice ran through your veins as those fingers curled around the column of your throat and squeezed. Five became ten. You clawed at disembodied wrists. You tried to cry out, but all that came was a whimper, a soft plea to stop.

Your vision began to blur. What once was a dreamy weightlessness became a cold lack of anything in your body. You were empty. You were nothing. And the last thing you saw before the world grew dark were those lips twisted up in a cruel, keen grin.

A silent scream tore itself from your chest and spilled from your mouth. Your hands dropped from your bruised neck, landing soundlessly on the woven floor of…

No, this wasn't your tent. The blanket drawn across your body was not yours. Books, shiny baubles, and dinnerware stained red were scattered in the corners. A lantern's flame flickered in its frame, bathing the crimson walls in a soft orange glow.

“I know that look,” a smooth voice uttered. Your neck twitched, urgent to find its source. Your heart pounded against your ribs, threatening to beat them to shards.

Astarion sat propped up against one of his pillows, a leatherbound book resting on his lap. His arm laid limp in the empty space beside him, thrown around a thick, yellow square cushion with a dent in its center. He closed the book and set it aside by the lantern.

“Look at me, my love.” He coaxed your eyes towards his. “That's it. Just focus on me.”

You swallowed. Your throat hurt so terribly. It was sore, marred by the cries that could never escape. He was hazy: a pallid, unreal vision. A ghost come to haunt you, to hurt you.

Astarion let out a quiet sigh and patted your pillow, beckoning you back. You gave a quick shake of your head. The insides of his finely-groomed silver brows tilted from their usual pensive furrow.

“You don't have to lay down,” he said. “Just sit with me.”

You hesitated. Your eyes flickered to his hand still laying on your spot. He pulled it away and set it on his bent knee. You felt your heart start to slow from its whirlwind drum��good.

Deeming it safe, you felt yourself crawl back into place. He let out a satisfied hum, then asked: “Is that better?”

“A little,” you mumbled.

“Good.” His hand grazed the goosebump-ridden flesh of your arm. “May I?”

You nodded. He slid it up and down the length in a gentle caress. Your muscles tensed at first, itching to push him away, but you held fast. The world was real again—it was solid, true.

His crimson gaze swept over your bruised neck. “That's quite a nasty little mark,” he observed not unkindly. “I'd ask what it's all about, but I can see talking is the last thing on your mind.”

You weren't sure how, but he managed to rest your head on his chest. He pulled the blanket up to your shoulders and tucked you in. A pleasant tingle prickled at your skin as his hand slipped from your arm to the back of your head. His fingers, long and dexterous from pilfering pockets and loosening locks, carded through your hair, gently working through the tangles. Kisses would occasionally land atop your crown.

“You're safe,” he would whisper. “And I love you. I always will.”

After what felt like an eternity, your eyelids grew heavy once again. Your head felt full as sleep grasped at your thoughts, breaking them apart and scattering them about the dark recesses. You could remember them in the morning… or not at all. Perhaps it was best not to think.

Your body turned, draping itself over his own. You rubbed your cheek on the cool silk of his white night shirt while he brushed his thumb across your nape. It was as if he were trying to wipe away the remains of your nightmare, to free you from the pain—no matter how dull.

Your eyes shut, and the world went dark again. But your heart was light. Light, warm, and full. And in his hands, it always would be.

[ghostlyvoidbones]

Sonadow Lovebug AU - Pt. 3

a/n: Right so I have no excuses. It started- it started... look this chapter was supposed to be simple with just a teensy bit of action. I don't know what happened. I got flustered. Just take it. Take it and don't look at me-

summary: Sonic is made aware of Shadow's... situation. He's just as confused. Then he is flustered. Shadow is completely lost in the sauce.

contains: Shadow's drug induced delusions, dubious consensual light touching, uncomfortable situation, one sided affections, unwilling affection (given and received).

wc: 3K

Rouge’s phone call to Sonic had been short and… telling.

She’d asked Sonic if he and Shadow were dating and the answer she got was a resounding no. She even made sure to ask four times just to make sure. She’d only stopped when Sonic cut her off to check if she was feeling alright or if she was in danger. 

It was safe to say that whatever happened yesterday, it was definitely doing something strange to Shadow. Which made the situation all the more urgent.

Clad in her usual outfit, Rouge made her way back to the living room, careful to keep a calm exterior. She would not be bringing up the phone call with Sonic. After all, based on Shadow’s previous reaction to her poking at the subject, it seemed like a smart idea not to mention it.

Shadow was exactly where she’d left him earlier, a deep set frown on his face as he looked down at his phone screen.

“Everything alright?”

“I can’t find any pictures on here either.”

“Right. You can worry about that later, right now we have work to do.” She sidestepped to be next to him, hand perched on her hip. “Do you remember where you were yesterday when you had that dizzy spell?”

He did look up for that one “Yes. I was with Sonic.”

Rouge had to physically fight the urge to face palm. Now that she had a vague idea of what was going on, she couldn’t believe she didn’t notice how weird Shadow had been acting since earlier. Instead she let out a soft sigh, rolling her shoulders and redirecting the conversation back on topic.

Hopefully this wouldn't be a common trend throughout the day.

“No, as in the location. Do you know the coordinates?”

Shadow drooped minutely at the subject change. “I do.”

“Wonderful, let’s start there.”

Shadow nodded and tucked his phone away, pulling out his favored chaos emerald in its place. Rouge braced herself for the swooping feeling in her gut and prickling buzz of teleportation as Shadow called out ‘chaos control.’ The fuzz in her vision lasted for half a second and she blinked it away, expecting to see trees or a grassy hill.

What she got instead was a face full of Sonic the Hedgehog.

Sonic blinked at the newcomers from where he sat on the couch of his own living room, a spoon held up halfway to his open mouth. Rouge knew her expression mirrored the hero’s, and even more infuriatingly, she knew that the hedgehog beside her wasn’t phased in the slightest.

They needed to get this issue with Shadow’s head taken care of. Like now.

“Uh… hey guys.” Sonic gave them a small wave, confusion evident in his lopsided smile. “Nice of you to drop in?”

“Hmmm, yes.” The strained smile Rouge returned came off as more of a pained grimace. “One second.”

With that, she twisted around, snatching Shadow by the shoulder and yanking him along with her. Scooting forward a bit further away, she pulled him down into a huddle.

“Shadow, I know for a fact you never went to Sonic’s house yesterday. Which begs the question; why are we at Sonic’s house right now?!” She hissed out, piercing her friend with a searing glare.

Not that it bothered Shadow in any way. The hedgehog in question was blatantly trying to twist his head back around to look at Sonic.

“I told you I was with Sonic. I was reminded of it so I must have unintentionally imagined being where he is now instead of where we’d been yesterday.” Rouge gaped at him. “That works well enough. Sonic can come with us.”

It was then that Rouge realized this wasn’t going to work out. With Shadow being like this, there was no way he was going to be able to get anything done. So, throwing caution to the wind, she straightened back up and turned to face the blue blur.

“Sonic, I need your help.” 

At the serious tone of her voice, lacking her usual teasing lilt, Sonic placed his bowl down on the coffee table in front of him and stood up. “Sure, what do you need?”

“Shadow said that he had a dizzy spell when he was with you yesterday and I think something… weird happened to him. Can you tell me where you both were when that happened?”

Recognition fluttered across his features. “Oh! Yeah, after we finished our race, right?” He addressed Shadow at that part who nodded dumbly, gaze transfixed by every single motion Sonic made. “I think we were on top of that one hill by the loop-de-loop. The one with the daffodils.”

“Okay, I know where that is. Thank you.” Rouge began making her way over to one of the windows, fiddling with the latch and pulling it open.

“No problem, but uh… what’s going on with Shadow, exactly?”

“He’s delusional. We were supposed to go together but now we’re here instead. Whatever happened yesterday messed with his head and he can’t think straight.” She paused for a second, coughing through a small chuckle. “Since he clearly can’t do any investigating himself, do you think you can keep an eye on him until I come back?”

“Uh, sure? What kind of delusional are we talking about here?”

She only gave him a pitying look. “Oh, right. Call Tails, we might need his Science know-how to figure out what’s going on with Shadow.” Then she was out the window without another word.

Deciding to just go with it, Sonic turned back to Shadow, trying to figure out where the issue was. He was slow to realize that Shadow hadn’t taken his eyes off him since the two G.U.N. agents got there.

“Everything alright there, Shadow? Rouge looked pretty stressed out.”

“I told her I was perfectly functional.” Shadow lightly shook his head, casting a brief frown at the window Rouge left from. “She’s being dramatic because I failed to inform her about every little thing that goes on in my private life.”

“That doesn’t really sound like Rouge.” Sonic tapped his chin in thought. “What kind of thing was it?”

He asked because he was curious, despite knowing full well that Shadow’s response would be along the lines of ‘none of your business hedgehog.’ Only to be pleasantly surprised at the genuine answer he received.

“She accused me of lying about our relationship.” Shadow huffed out a displeased sound. 

“What did you say to her about it that she got so suspicious of you?” Sonic raised a brow, a smirk playing on his muzzle.

Shadow sighed. “I let it slip that we’re romantically involved.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“I’m sorry,” Sonic began, after a while of trying to get his jaw unstuck, “we’re what?”

“In a romantic relationship.” The statement was delivered in Shadows' usual deadpan tone. A part of Sonic felt like he heard a joke, and admittedly a very strange one. But the serious look on the other’s face made it clear that it was anything but.

“Shadow… we’re not… dating.” Sonic said, slow and careful. Unless he’d missed something extremely important, he was pretty sure that was the truth.

Shadow’s eyes narrowed on him, nose scrunching up and gloved hands balling into fists at his sides. “Yes we are, Sonic. At the very least, I thought you would know that.”

“I thought I would know that too.” Sonic mumbled under his breath, “Which is why I’m so confused right now.”

Rouge had mentioned that Shadow was delusional, but this? It felt a bit too much, even for him.

Sonic knew Shadow was a good guy at heart. After all, he saved people almost as much as Sonic did, even though he wasn’t the type to talk about it. But the thing was, Sonic also knew that Shadow greeted him with a fist to the face over a friendly wave one too many times for their relationship to be anything even remotely close to something so emotionally intimate as dating.

Going over all their past interactions in his head, he couldn’t pinpoint a single time where they’d talked about being together. Even Sonic’s attempts at being friends never ended well. And this definitely wasn’t the sort of thing Shadow would ever joke about, so Sonic quickly understood why Rouge was so thrown off. Her earlier phone call made a lot more sense too, now what he thought about it.

And if this was someone messing with Shadow’s head, why make him think he was dating Sonic? Why make him think he was dating anyone in general?

Sonic eased up. Shadow wasn’t in his right mind, but that was ok. He said he’d help and he meant it. And despite how heavily in denial Shadow was about it, Sonic still saw them as friends and wouldn't leave him stranded in a situation like this.

“Hey, uh… I’m gonna go get Tails real quick. I can see Rouge was right, something’s obviously going on, so I think he’d be a big help. I’ll just run out, grab him, and come right back, okay?” Sonic pinned an easy smile on his face while jutting a thumb over his shoulder at the front door.

Shadow took an immediate step forward toward Sonic, red eyes fixed on the blue hedgehog with sharp clarity. “I’ll go with you.”

Sonic unconsciously took a step back. “You really don’t have to do that. You know me, I’ll be back in a flash! You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Shadow followed, one step closer. “I can keep up, if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t see why I need to wait here for you.”

 “Seriously Shads-” Shadow’s ear flicked at the nickname, Sonic now holding his hands up in a somewhat placating gesture. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Another step forward. “You’re avoiding me.”

A step back. “No, I’m not!”

So close, a hand reached out and fingertips nearly grazed blue fur. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one acting-” The back of Sonic’s knees hit the corner of the coffee table and it almost made him buckle to the floor. Instead, his feet tripped over themselves and he stumbled.

In one, fluid movement, Shadow’s gloved hands glided along the fur of Sonic’s arms, stopping beneath his elbows to help him correct his balance. The hold was firm and Sonic felt it when they slid up to gently squeeze his forearms. 

“If you’re going to avoid me, at least be careful not to hurt yourself when you do it.”

Sonic’s fur stood on end and he pushed out of Shadow’s grip. He rounded the coffee table to stand on the opposite side, keeping the low piece of furniture between the two of them.

“Y’know what? I think I’ll just call him.”

Spinning around with his back to Shadow, Sonic pulled out his phone and frantically dialed Tails’ number. He refused to turn and look at the other hedgehog and tried to brush off the feeling of eyes burning holes into his back from behind him.

Breathing out a sigh of relief when the call went through, he spoke quickly to the voice on the other end.

“Heyyyyy bud! I’m at my place right now and I’m gonna need you over here pronto. Yeah. No, Shadow’s here too, uh- Rouge thinks Shadow’s been… Look, somethings up with him and we’re really hoping you might have something that can help work out what’s going on.” He caught the low scoff from behind him and pressed on. “So if you could come by as soon as you can that would be- yeah, yeah that sounds great! Thanks Tails, knew I could count on you. See you in a bit.”

When the call ended, Sonic finally dared to look back over at Shadow. He’d managed to also circle round the table and get closer to where the hero stood, but he wasn’t so close that he was in danger of invading Sonic’s personal bubble.

“Honestly, you’re being ridiculous.” His features settled on something neutral, arms crossed as he held Sonic’s gaze, but there was a twinge of irritation there. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but we should be able to work this out with having others interfering.”

“I’m being ridiculous?” Sonic eyed him warily, paying close attention to Shadow’s body language. “Shadow, why do you think we’re dating?”

The dark hedgehog was painfully unamused but seemed willing to entertain Sonic’s sudden denial of their relationship.

“I don’t know, perhaps the numerous dates? The special occasions we’ve celebrated together? Or maybe even the multitude of private moments we’ve shared? That all sounds pretty self explanatory to me.” There’s a bite to his words, brought out further by the way Shadow practically bared his teeth while he spoke.

Yup, Sonic can confidently say that he can’t remember doing any of those things. Whatever it was that made Shadow believe they were together was definitely doing its work. Especially if he’d not only just re-contextualized old memories but also, from what it sounded like, created brand new ones that never actually occurred.

Right now, all he could do was hope that Rouge managed to find a lead. And with Tails help, they should be able to start working on a solution to get Shadow back to normal. Not that having a Shadow that likes him isn’t nice, but the sudden affection and responsibility of a relationship was something Sonic really wasn’t prepared to handle.

Besides, all of these thoughts and memories are happening against Shadow’s will. He was pretty much manipulated by some external force into believing he was close and intimate with someone he wouldn’t be with outside of its influence. Deep down, Shadow could probably still recognize that and feel horrified at it. He wasn’t someone who liked being vulnerable with others and this was violating that part of him.

Sonic’s jaw tightened, sympathy swirling in emerald green eyes as he thought about what this situation meant for Shadow. Letting out a sigh, he closed the gap between them to place a comforting hand on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Listen. I don’t really know what’s doing this to you buddy, but I promise we’ll figure this out.” Sonic gave him a reassuring smile, thinking it would help ease his friend at least the tiniest bit. 

Although, he couldn’t tell if it was working with the other’s frown still firmly in place.

“I’m not your buddy.” Shadow gritted out lowly, almost spitting out the word ‘buddy’ like it personally offended him. His hand reached up to rest over where Sonic’s still sat on his shoulder. “And your nonsense is starting to get on my nerves.”

With a swift, smooth tug, Shadow pulled Sonic closer. Sonic’s breath caught as he fell forward, their chests bumping and faces so close he could smell the strong scent of lavender drifting from the ebony of Shadow’s fur.

“If you weren’t so cute, I’d do something about it.” 

Shadow's voice, with its rough and deep timbre, rumbled in Sonic’s ear and made it swivel away from the invasive sound. Even if hadn’t heard it, he felt the vibrations from his chest. Then the hand that wasn’t holding Sonic’s captive in the air came to rest on his waist, curling into the blue fur just below Sonic’s rib cage.

A violent shiver rippled through him and his face burned. The resulting flush turned the peach of his muzzle a whole shade darker.

“Woah-ho-ho okayyy. H-hey, let’s maybe calm down a bit there.” Sonic couldn’t help the way his voice pitched up nervously. He tried to carefully pull out of Shadow’s grip only to feel it tighten.

“I am calm.” Shadow certainly sounded like it, which really wasn’t helping. “Now tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

Sonic’s senses were full of lavender, gunpowder, and a faint undercurrent of coffee. He could feel the warm brush of breath against his cheek and his head spun so fast it rivaled the dizziness he experienced after going a few rounds through the loop-de-loop.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not!”

“Sonic-”

“Fine.”

Sonic ripped himself out of Shadow’s grip, leaving the darker hedgehog’s hands hovering in the air where they once held onto him. The deep breath Sonic took was that of a drowning person getting their first gulp of air after escaping a powerful ocean current.

“Fine, ok. Yes, yeah, I am. But it’s because you’re-” His hands floundered around. “I’m uncomfortable. And I’m not… the biggest fan of the situation we’re in right now. There, happy?”

“Not really. I don’t feel particularly good when you’re upset.” Shadow’s brows furrowed, arms finally dropping back down to his sides. “What ‘situation’ are you talking about? You’re still not telling me what’s going on.”

And if Sonic were to consider things from Shadow’s perspective, that was a fair argument to make. Which made this all the more difficult. Especially when ‘we were never dating’ doesn’t seem to be cutting it as a reason on its own.

“This, Shadow, you- I’m not used to you being so… affectionate? Clingy?” Shadow huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes.

“I am not clingy.” Sonic pointed to where Shadow had subtly started trying to reach for him once again. “That doesn’t count. I’m trying to keep you from running away from me.”

Sonic threw his arms up in the air. “I’m literally not going anywhere! I can’t leave because I’m waiting for Tails to get here! So I can tell him what’s going on! Because I don’t even know what’s going on!”

Shadow’s advances stopped. A flicker of concern passed over his face as he watched Sonic grow more and more frazzled with each sentence that came out of his mouth. A look that was unusual on the usually carefree hero.

“I think you should sit down. You’re getting worked up and I’m concerned you’re going to pass out.” Shadow’s tone was light and it helped bring the blue hedgehog back from the near panic he’d started spiraling into.

Sonic took a deep breath and gave a slow nod of his head. “Y’know what? Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”

Rubbing the ridge of his muzzle to try dispelling the oncoming headache blooming behind his eyes, Sonic headed over to the couch. He swiveled on his foot and let himself fall back onto the cushions, to immediately find something was out of place. Staring up at the ceiling, he took note of how he was supposed to be more far back than this.

“Shadow.”

“Yes, Sonic?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting with you. Obviously.”

“Right. I meant, why am I on your lap?”

“Because it’s more comfortable this way.”

Sonic didn’t even jump when he felt those familiar arms snaking across his stomach and locking him in place. His back was pressed to the soft white fluff of Shadow’s chest fur and the scent of lavender returned to tease at his nose.

“There’s so much room on this couch Shads. You can literally sit anywhere and still be next to me without having us be on top of each other like this.”

“But you wouldn’t be in my arms then, would you.” Shadow commented loosely, tucking his face into the safe spot between Sonic’s shoulder and his quills.

Sonic smothered his own face into his gloves, curling as far forward and away as his current position would allow. 

“This is not how I wanted to spend my Saturday.”

*

When Tails finally arrived not too long after, needless to say the sight that greeted him was a shock. The fox would never forget the pitiful little ‘help’ Sonic directed his way as he was being cuddled on the couch by a very content looking Shadow.

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[livingdreams97]

Tate McRae -- "Great Coincidence"

Tate McRae x Male reader/oc

Summary: Two people from two different worlds, one from the world of sports and the other from the world of entertainment. Two people who meet by fate and realize they have something in common.

Words: 3.264

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Masterlist

POV You

Being part of the team that won the Stanley Cup this year has been my biggest dream. Ever since I can remember, my biggest dream was to be a professional hockey player and win the Stanley Cup at least once.

What I didn't expect was for that dream to come true in my first season in the NHL, much less right after graduating from college.

But all I can think about as my team raises the big cup in the air, as confetti falls onto the court and the fans celebrate at the top of their lungs , is that I have achieved my dream.

I barely had time to take off my helmet and mouth guard before they put a champions cap with the team logo on my head and the celebration began.

From the moment Aleksander the captain, or Sasha as he is called in the team, raises the cup and the celebration begins until I am at home everything is a blur.

I guess it's because of the excitement and adrenaline of winning. What I do remember is the interviews and shows that came after winning.

With the win and the interviews, my followers on social media increased exponentially in just one day. This overwhelmed me a lot, as I didn't expect so many people to start following me on social media.

But that wasn't the most surprising thing.

The most surprising thing has been the calls my representative has been making me for the last two months, telling me about all the clothing and product brands that want to work with me.

But the best thing of all, without a doubt, is that I have been able to celebrate and share this important moment in my life with my family. Above all with my niece Lucy, who has not wanted to take off her team jersey since I won and every person she meets on the street tells her that her uncle has won the cup.

Which is incredibly sweet to me , but very annoying to my older sister who is the one who has to figure out how to take off her sweater to wash it and the one who tries to shut her up when they are out and about.

Speaking of my sister, I'm on a call with her and from the voice she's using, I know she wants to ask me something.

--Call Emma--

- What can I say, you are her favorite uncle and she idolizes you sooo much. - she exaggerates with an overly sweet voice.

- I'm her only uncle.- I remind her with obviousness. - Your husband is an only child and you have me and Mia. So I'm the only uncle Lucy has.- I laugh amused.

- And what does that have to do with you being her only uncle, with you being her favorite and the one she idolizes the most? - she asks me with a certain angry tone of voice.

- Nothing, I was just pointing it out.- I answer with disinterest.

- Back to the main topic.- she says in a more cheerful voice. -When are you coming to see your niece? She adores you and misses you terribly, because she hasn't seen you since we went to see the cup final in June.- she asks curiously.

- I'm not sure, I'm kind of busy right now with interviews and sponsorships.- I answer, letting out a tired sigh.

- I don't think that going away for a weekend will do anything to you. - she comments with disinterest.

- Emma, what do you want? - I ask directly, knowing my sister very well and knowing that she wants something from me.

- Why do I have to want something to talk to my little brother ? - she asks offended.

- Because we know each other and I know when you want to ask me something and when you don't.- I answer her sincerely. - I'm not that innocent 7-year-old boy anymore that you used as your servant when you were 16.- I remind her with some annoyance.

- Don't exaggerate either, you were not my servant and you are very bad at playing the victim.- she defends herself immediately.

- I remember all the times you asked me to bring you something from the kitchen to your room, or from your room to wherever you were at home. Or when I would carry your backpack to your room when you got home? - I ask her, remembering some of the things she made me do.

- Okay, okay, maybe I took advantage of you a little when you were little.- she admits with a sigh. - But that has nothing to do with the situation now.- she assures me calmly.

- So you're not going to ask me for anything ? - I asked her ironically.

-No.- she answers immediately. -Well yes, but it's not for me.- she retracts immediately causing me to laugh.

- What do you need from me? - I asked with a smile at my older sister's attitude.

- I need you to come to Chicago this weekend.- she asks me and I open my eyes in surprise, thinking that the favor would be to send Lucy a new sweater or something like that.

- I can't do that on such short notice.- I immediately tell my sister.

- I know it's very sudden, but believe me, if you weren't my only option I wouldn't be asking you.- she assures me with some stress in her voice.

- But why do you need me to go to Chicago this weekend? - I asked her, confused by the request.

- Because they told me today that my shift at the Hospital has changed.- she begins to tell me. -But I already had plans for this Saturday afternoon with Lucy and Mia to go to a concert, but with my new shift I can't take them.- she sighs with some guilt.

- Wait a minute, is Mia in Chicago? - I ask confuse, since two days ago I was at my parents house and my little sister was there.

- No, Mia is coming on Friday and is returning to Florida on Sunday, since she was only coming to see the concert with us. - she explains to me and even though she can't see me, she sits down.

- And you want me to take the two of them to the concert? - I assure her, knowing where this is going.

- Yes.- she answers simply. -You would save my life, honestly, and then I wouldn't have to tell Lucy, who has been excited about the concert for months, that we can't go and that she won't be able to go to her first concert.- she explains with some sadness and guilt in her voice.

- You do realize that Lucy is only 7 years old and that she probably forgets that she didn't go to the concert, right? - I ask my sister.

- Have you forgotten when dad took you to see your first hockey game? - she asks me sarcastically.

- No.- I growl in response, knowing that she is right and that game was the one that made me want to be a professional hockey player.

- So you'll come and take them to the concert? - she asks me hopefully.

- Yes, I'll talk to Mia to find out what plane she's going on and I'll try to get a ticket at the same time so we can go together. - I agree, knowing that she's right and that if I can prevent my niece from being sad, I'll do what I can.

- Thank you, thank you, thank you. You saved my life. - she thanks me very happily. - You'll see how happy Lucy will be that you're going with her to the concert. - she assure me energetically.

- Well now when I talk to Mia and buy the plane ticket I'll send you a message with the details.- I told her getting up from the couch and walking to my room.

-Perfect, if you have anything just write to me.- she says and we say goodbye.

-- End Call--

Once in my room, I text my little sister and ask her what time her flight to Chicago is.

While I wait for her response, I sit at the desk in front of my bedroom window and turn on my laptop.

My little sister's response didn't take long to arrive and she not only told me the time, but also sent me a screenshot of her tickets.

Thanks to the screenshot, I can see the plane number and the airline she will be traveling with. So with all the information I have, I go to the airline's website and start looking for the flight Mia will be on.

I do a little celebratory dance when I see that there are only 2 seats left on the outbound flight and 12 seats on the return flight. Which means I won't have to catch a plane at a different time.

I quickly buy the tickets and send them to my cell phone. Once the tickets are purchased, I start packing my suitcase for the three days and two nights I will be in Chicago, taking into account the weather in that city.

Once I have everything ready, all I have to do is pack the last things I need on the last day and get on the plane.

Tate POV

After finishing the European part of the tour, it was time for the United States part and it was being exhausting.

I wrote and hearing thousands of fans singing them at the top of their lungs next to me is indescribable. But that doesn't mean it's not completely exhausting and I fall asleep every night as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Today was Minneapolis' turn, where the energy of the crowd was incredible and I left without a shred of energy.

Maycee: I can't move an inch.- complains one of my two amazing dancers lying on the couch in the locker room.

Amari: Are you telling me or are you telling me? - another of the dancers asks sarcastically while lying on the floor.

Stevie: I feel sticky.- complains my other dancer drinking water.

Tate: And then what about me? - I ask them amused, trying to catch my breath. - I'm the only one who sings and dances at the same time, and you're the ones complaining. - I comment, seeing how everyone looks at me badly.

Findlay: That's because you're an amazing artist and we're just mere humans.- she replies with an innocent smile.

Alex: Besides the fact that you are you and the others are not.- he laughs sitting on the floor next to Amari.

Matt: Guys, shower and get comfortable, the bus leaves for Chicago in 40 minutes.- the tour manager tells us.

We all nodded and parted ways to shower and change into comfortable clothes for the night on the US tour bus.

Because unlike the tour in Europe, where we traveled by plane and bus because the distances between places were longer. So travelling by bus alone to get from one place to another in one or two days was impossible.

But on the US leg of the tour, the distances are shorter and we may only travel by bus. Which means movie nights and karaoke until we realize it's too late.

But I think I'll just go straight to bed and rest today. Because tomorrow we'll have all day to explore Chicago while they finish setting up the stage and getting everything ready.

So the next day we will only have to do a soundcheck in the morning and give the concert in the afternoon. Plus, a whole day in Chicago where we've already looked for plans and things to see takes energy.

So as soon as we get on the bus, I go straight to my bunk and as soon as I lay my head on the pillow I fall asleep.

But just before I fall asleep, I feel my stomach churning with nerves, just like it does right before I go on stage. It's like my body is anxiously awaiting something I'm not yet aware of.

POV Your

I roll my eyes at my sister's insistence and her repetitive speech about what I should or shouldn't do in any case. The reason is that she is making up impossible or 1 in a million situations.

Emma: So what do you do if a stranger asks you about your blood type? - she asks me again for the second time.

Y/n: You do realize we're just going to a concert, right? - I ask, tired of her questions. -We're not going to a black market for organs.- I assure her, throwing my head back on the couch and closing my eyes.

Emma: I'm sorry for worrying about the safety of my daughter and siblings. - she defends herself with a certain amount of sarcasm.

Y/n: It's one thing to worry, but you're been obsessive.- I say, relaxing completely against the couch.

Emma: Whatever you say, but make sure Lucy wears her watch at all times and doesn't take it off or lose it at any time.- she points her finger at me seriously.

Y/n: Don't tell me it's one of those watches with GPS.- I look at my sister amused.

Emma: Of course it is.- she answers me with obviousness. -It makes me feel safe if she is wearing it and even more so in situations like a concert, where there are thousands of people.- she explains doing something with her phone. -I just sent you the application and the username with the password.- she alerts me when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

Y/n: If that makes you feel safer, I'll do it right now.- I assure her, taking my phone out of my pocket and entering our chat.

I start downloading the watch app on my phone when my little sister and niece walk into the room.

Mia: Are we leaving or what? - she asks excitedly, practically jumping in place.

Y/n: Yes, please.- I ask, quickly getting up from the sofa and approaching the girls.

Emma: Wait until I give you the tickets, you idiot.- she says, passing behind me and slapping me on the back of the neck.

Y/n: Ouch.- I complain rubbing the back of my neck and watching my sister and niece laugh. -And what are you laughing at? - I ask them approaching them raising an eyebrow.

Lucy: We are not laughing, uncle.- She shakes her head vigorously, holding back her laughter.

I quickly approach her and pick her up, tickling her. My niece squirms in my arms, trying to escape the tickling and get back to the ground.

Emma: Here are the VIP passes for the meet and greet and the concert.- says my sister returning to the room.

Mia: Give me, give me, give me.- she asks, running towards our sister and stretching out her hands to receive the pass.

Emma: If you lose it, you'll be left without a concert and without anything. - she reminds her, giving her the pass.

Mia: Not even my worst dreams I'm going to lose this wonder. - she says, taking the pass in her hands and giving it a kiss before hanging it around her neck.

I shake my head, amused by my little sister's attitude, as I approach the eldest of the three and receive the other two tickets from her.

With the tickets hanging around my neck, we walk to the apartment door and Mia is already walking out.

Emma: Remember everything I've told you and be very careful with Lucy, she's been a bit of an escape artist lately. - she reminds me, holding the door when we're already outside.

Y/n: Don't worry, go to work calmly and trust your brother.- I tell her with a smile.

Emma: That makes me worry more.- she assures me, looking at me badly.

Y/n: That's your problem now.- I shrug my shoulders. -Lucy, tell mommy goodbye.- I say to the little girl I still have in my arms.

Lucy: Bye Mommy! - she exclaims excitedly with a big smile.

Emma: Bye honey.- she says goodbye leaving a kiss on her cheek. -And behave well with Uncle Y/n.- she asks her daughter who immediately nods energetically. -Have a good time! - she exclaims as we begin to walk away down the hallway.

Mia: I will if we manage to get there on time.- she answers with a certain attitude.

I just shake my head in amusement at my little sister's teenage attitude. Once in the elevator to the garage, I notice my sister who can't stop looking at herself in the mirror on the wall and adjusting her clothes.

It is at this point that I notice she is wearing a black hockey jersey with grey and white details , with a T8 on the front and a MCRAE 20 on the back. I look over at my niece and see that she is wearing the same jersey.

Y/n: And those jerseys? - I ask, confused by the clothes.

Mia: It's the Tate concert merch.- she answers taking a photo in the mirror.

Y/n: From whoms merch? - I ask confused, exiting the elevator when the doors opened and receiving another blow to the back of the neck, but this time from my little sister.

Mia: Whose is it? - she asks me offended, walking beside me. -How dare you not know who Tate McRae is.- she accuses me, looking at me badly.

Y/n: Do you know who Wayne Gretzky is? - I ask with a raised eyebrow.

Mia: No.- she answers with obviousness. -But now we are talking about the incredible Tate McRae, who is a singer and an incredible dancer.- she assures me, climbing into the passenger seat when we reach the car I have rented.

Y/n: I'm glad you admire someone, but that doesn't mean I and the rest of the world have to too.- I assure her amused, tying my niece in her high chair and making sure she's secure.

Mia: Anyway, who doesn't know the name of the artist at the concert they're going to? - she asks me as I sit in the driver's seat.

Y/n: Considering that I found out about the concert just a few days ago, I think it's understandable.- I answer while driving towards the stadium where the concert will be. - Besides the fact that I'm only here to accompany you girls, the ones who are going to enjoy and have a good time with an artist that you like.- I remind her with a smile.

Mia: I assure you that you will also enjoy it, Tate is an incredible artist and her actions are very catchy.- my sister assures me while touching the car screen. -And so that you don't go without knowing a single song, for the next 20 minutes you will listen to her most listened to songs and thus you will be able to know some songs.- she says and immediately some upbeat music starts playing. -Because you are not going to embarrass me for not knowing a single song.- she assures me and starts singing when the artist does too.

I just laugh in amusement at my sister and her incredible eloquence. Although I have to admit that I have not stopped bobbing my head to the rhythm of each song and I agree with my sister that the songs are catchy.

But that's something I'm not going to admit to my sister and agree with her that the songs are catchy, because all she needs is to be more conceited at 16 years old.

I just hope that both my sister and my niece enjoy this concert and that they have a good memory of today. Because for me, the happiness of my family is the most important thing in my life.

I want to know what is your guys favorite Tate McRae song?

[myloveforhergoeson]

hi friends

as i said in this post, it's well overdue the btr bloggers on this site had some time where we just flat-out told each other how much we appreciate each other!

whether you share your own thoughts about the show, write, draw, make edits, or simply lurk - we all make this small fandom go round! and i'd love it if this SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1ST - we took some time to let each other know!

below the cut, please find some messages you can copy and paste to leave in the ask box, the comment section, someone's dms, etc of your favorite btr creators/mutuals/followers/accounts. ideally, this doesn't even stay on tumblr, regardless if other fans don't know about it. take these messages to ao3, Instagram, wattpad, bluesky, anywhere where you follow someone who posts btr content you appreciate!

and finally, every fandom could use a day like this honestly. i do not care if someone copies this entire post and spreads it into their own circles. in fact - PLEASE do!

thank you for listening - everything you may need is under here!! <3

hi again - a quick note from me: please find a handful of copy and paste messages to send to your fav btr creators... but more than anything i encourage you to send your own kind words and praises to them first!!! i know that words can be hard, and sending something to someone you don't know can be scary, so if you do so require, using the templates is just fine :) i'll break them up into content sections below. if i missed any, or anyone has some of their own to share, please add on!!

general

got a fav btr blogger and you just don't know what to say to them? look no farther, i've got you covered! starting out from basic statements and going on to more specific with some fill in the blank elements :3 - hey! i love your btr posts, they always make me laugh! - i need all your btr posts on my blog IMMEDIATELY!!! - your btr posts have helped inspire me to make my own! - your btr headcannons are so interesting, they've helped me understand my favorite characters in a new way! - [SPECIFIC BTR POST] lives in my head rent free! - [SPECIFIC PIECE OF BTR CONTENT] is awesome! - your post about [SPECIFIC BTR HEADCANON] really got me thinking... do you have any more thoughts to share? i'd love to hear them! - reblog your fav btr posts again!!!!

for fic writers

someone's btr fic leave a lasting impression on you? love someone's analyzed a character and their dynamic? put your favorite character in a Situation? written ship content? or oc content? or x reader content? doesn't matter if it was written when the show first came out or if it was written yesterday - let them know either here or on their preferred writing platform! - i always look forward to your next writing project! - [SPECIFIC STORY] is one of my favorite btr works ever! - i love the way you write [CHARACTER/DYNAMIC/SHIP ETC] - i'm subscribed to all your writing platforms - i never miss a story! - this [LINE/PARAGRAPH/THEME IN STORY ETC] in your [WORK] really spoke to me! - your [CROSSOVER/AU/CANON-DIVERGENCE] was so interesting! i loved seeing the characters in a new setting! - writers love questions about their work... ever wonder why they wrote something a certain way or diverged from canon to make something true? ask them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - reblog and share links to your favorite stories on your own blog!! - has someone ever made something for one of YOUR written works? let them know how much you appreciate it too!!

for editers

from videos, to gifs, to fanmixes, to posters, to meme makers and soooo much more, there are no shortage of wonderful editers in our circle!! ever wanted to tell them how much you loved their stuff? now's your big chance!!!!!!! - can't stop thinking about that [CHARACTER/SHIP/ETC] edit you made! the clips and song you chose matched them perfectly! - the gifsets you posted of [SCENE/CHARACTER/SHIP/ETC] were beautiful! i can tell you put a lot of time and effort into making them - i am obsessed with your [CHARACTER/SHIP/ETC] fanmix!! the songs were well chosen - i've found some new favs through the playlist!! - your btr edited memes always make me laugh! - reblog your favorite works to you blog again! - if you have questions about the programs the person used, what inspired their choices, how long it took them - ask!!!!! ask!!!!!!!!!!!!! - someone ever make an edit based off of something you said or made? be sore to let them know how much it meant to you!

for artists

be it from the basics of pencil and paper all the way up to some fancy digital program, we love our artists regardless of their medium!! someone make a piece of fan art you love? comics you can't get enough of? drew your fav in just the right way? or depicted an oc or self-insert you adore? they deserve to know!!!!! - your artwork is so beautiful! [SPECIFIC PIECE] is my favorite! - this artstyle is so unique - i love seeing my favorite characters drawn this way - you depict [CHARACTER/SCENE/SHIP/ETC] so well! it's gorgeous! - the time and dedication you put into your craft is clear - your artwork is incredible! - want to learn more about this artist's choices or medium? ask!! - be sure to reblog your fav pieces to your blog again! - has anyone made a piece of art based on something you've made? tell them how thankful you are for it!!!!!

i know there are MANY more categories of fandom blogger out there, but i believe this covers the main types. please feel free to add on your own categories if you feel so inclined :3

while these are all intended for the ask box, dms, or comment section, if you want to make a post, be sure to tag the specific people you want to appreciate!! and if everyone uses the tag:

#btr creator appreciation day 2025

we'll all have a nice collection of everything everyone shared (on tumblr at least!)

that's all i have for now, so i'll step down off my soap box. see yall SATURDAY FEBRUARY 1ST!!!!!!!!!!!! <333

(tagging those who seemed interested: @icegirl2772 @fiyero3305 @happinessismagicc @partiallypearl @day-dreams22 @naquey @invadericee @uncarved-turnip @elitheidiot1 @cant-get-enough-btr-forever @bunnyfern)

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 44

Camila paced nervously in the kitchen while Eda got to work on the dining table. She had inks, pens, different stamps, and even a quill, just in case, laid out in front of her as she got to work on forging a birth certificate. With Luz's birth certificate as a resource, Eda got to work forging an official document on a blank sheet of paper. So far, Eda seemed to perfectly match the design of a certificate, adding in the blue squiggles that surround its border and adding the lines and text that match the official standard.

"What last name do you want the kid to have?" Eda eventually asked, shaking Camila out of her panicked pacing for a bit.

"H-Huh?"

"Well, she can't be called 'Vee Noceda,'" Eda explained. "What would Vee stand for? Better yet, how could she have your last name?"

"I...didn't think of that...Should I have?"

"Only if you want this forgery to be perfect."

Camila whined, continuing her pacing some more. "I don't know, I don't know! What's a good fake name?"

"One that's believable?"

"Come on, help me out here, bruja! I'm not good at this type of thing! With the lying and the forgery and the--Oh, no, I'm going to be sick..."

"Okay, fine, I'll think of one myself. Hm..." Eda tapped the end of her pen against her chin in thought. "How about...Velma Valina?"

"...What?"

"I mean, Vee's clearly gonna be a nickname, right? What would you call someone who's initials are basically V and V?"

"...Vee?"

"Bingo." Eda got to writing 'Velma Valina" on the document, matching the cursive that spelled Luz's name on her certificate. "Now, how old is the kid?"

"I think...no older than Luz is?"

"That's not giving me a lot to work with."

"Well, I don't...really know. I don't think she does either." Camila rubbed the back of her head. "How do you ask a child how old they were forced into existence?"

Eda blinked at that response and then put her pen aside for the moment to give Camila a confused stare. "Come again."

"Well, it's what she said," Camila explained. "She was...created by these weird men who forced her to grow up in a cage, do these...things that they wanted, and eat rats or something. It was horrific to hear and...And the poor baby probably doesn't even know how long she's been doing this for."

"...Where did you say this kid came from?"

"Your world, apparently."

"Wow..." Eda looked down at the document, running a hand through her hair. "And I thought I had issues..."

"Being a criminal isn't all it's cracked up to be?"

"Eh, it's more than that. Still, poor kid...How about I say she's two months younger than that Luz girl? That should be fine, right?"

"I guess? I don't know..." Camila finally sits in a chair across from Eda, leaning forward and pressing her palms against her temples out of stress. "I just want to give her a good home. Why can't that be easy? Why can't I just say, 'This is my daughter now,' and be done with it? Just skip this legal nonsense altogether and get right to the happy ending..."

"Well, doing the right thing always seems hard," Eda told her, going back to her forgery. "You want to do right by others you care about, but also know that doing it means making sacrifices. Whether it's not getting in their way or...staying away from them so they don't get hurt..."

"...Sounds like you do have issues."

Eda huffs out a laugh. "A few..."

"...Thank you," Camila said. "For...all of this."

"Thank me for giving me a couch to sleep on. And not killing me for doing something annoying."

"Don't know if I can promise that last part."

Eda let out a louder chortle, getting herself under control to finish up the rest of the certificate."

[magiclwritings]

It had been years since this feeling had found him. And now with Scorpius so close and the ease of which he could feel himself wanting to slide right back in, it was going to be the death of him. But not a cruel death. No. He imagined this one was inviting and warm, more than ready for him. Much like the feel of Scorp's jacket against his body. It was funny then too because it wasn't until then that he realized he fit it so perfectly. As if it were made for just him. But the funny thing was, this had come off of Scorpius Malfoy and it looked perfect on him too. With Andrew, everything felt too big too bulky and like it would swallow him whole. It wasn't until he felt a set of hands on his body that hadn't been Scorpius' that he came out of this.

"No you'd rather us all have alcohol poisoning." Rose cut in, moving to sit on the bar itself right behind Al. She ruffled his hair, motioning to Andrew that'd he'd better join in. "To the little blond rat!" She teased, cheering towards Scorpius and both she and Al took their shots. Slamming down her own glass onto the bar she declared another round for them just as Andrew down the second of his shots. Al was starting to swim and he felt himself leaning back into Rose, to which she happily hugged him in. "I don't know what he's doing but you better be careful." He whispered in his ear, placing a soft kiss to his temple before releasing back into Andrew's arms and Al forced a smile.

Why did she have to say that? "Want to dance?" Albus felt like had the worst case of whiplash known to the entirety of this world. He found himself looking into a pair of brown eyes that had given him the notion of home. Perhaps a safehaven even but he wasn't entirely sure he knew what he wanted any longer. The seventeen year old him wanted to grab that blonde's hand and run for the hills. The adult him wanted to just run out of there and never look back. The two of parts of him were waring and he was looking for any way out. "You know he has two left feet." Rose chimmed in before Albus could. He sighed and glowered back at her. "You know you've been very cranky today. You haven't even asked me how my match went." Rose promptly rolled her eyes and swatted at his shoulder. "If you've come here then we all already know that you lot won." He tone was very snarky, something he could truly appreciate in that moment. "Which means you of course caught the snitch and Merlin forbid we don't pinch your little cheekies...." Albus was laughing too hard by the time Andrew pulled him from the small group of them at the bar.

The pair of them found their way towards the jukebox in the corner and Andrew was quick to wrap his arms around Albus, moving them both to the beat. He moved along if for no other reason than being out from the rest of the group for a moment but this breath of fresh air wasn't as refreshing as he'd hoped for. And judging by the look on this one's face there was going to be a conversation had. Either tonight or tomorrow or perhaps never. He'd been good for that and the longer they'd been together the more he had decided that that was mostly to do with who he was rather than who he'd become to Andrew. His gaze drifted off as they turned around and he spied Scorpius looking back at them in that moment. He wished for a moment he could push the feeling he had in his chest towards him. Maybe then he'd really know what he felt.

He followed Teddy to the bar, rapping his knuckles against it as his cousin poured them the first shot. Scorpius shot it back with ease, hissing at the burn. It was a relief to feel it; in a way, it grounded him. It allowed him to feel more comfortable surrounded by people he had burned. Then the second shot came, and he clinked shot glasses with Teddy and Albus before tossing it back. “I don’t care what the last one is, Teddy,” Scorpius said, running his tongue along the back of his teeth to confirm they were still there. He couldn’t feel them and had to check.  Teddy’s response was a grumble about how Scorpius never had the decency to be a team player. 

But Albus’s soft words, spoken just for him, held his attention. He turned his body towards the man, leaning his weight on his elbow, supporting him from where it rested upon the top of the bar. “Yes,” He said simply because it indeed was that simple. “I know you don’t trust that yet, Albus, and it’s okay that you don’t. I’ll prove it to you.” Deep down, he knew Albus wasn’t ready to hear why he left, so he wouldn’t tell him yet. There wasn’t any reason to rush this anyway. Scorpius and Albus were inevitable. He felt it in his bones when they had met as children. It was just as true then as it was now.  

He knew it would be for the rest of their lives once they started this something between them, and while before that had fucking terrified him, he had done the work he needed to do to simply not be scared of it. But he did not intend to return and flip the table on Albus or any of them. He would wait until Albus decided for himself. Scorpius was utterly confident in who he would choose. 

“Take your time,” he told Albus, nudging his head toward where Andrew, Rose, and James were sitting. “I won’t go anywhere; I’ll wait however long I have to wait.” He leaned towards the man, nearly brushing his nose against his jaw. “I want to earn you, Albus.” 

“Well, holy fucking shit nuggets.” Teddy eyed the both of them, making a show of fanning himself. “Scorpy’s got game.” He rested his arms on the bar, plopping his chin down on the back of his hands and looking up at the two of them. “Proud of you,” He said, eyeing Scorpius. “Happy for you,” He turned his head to speak to Albus. “Also strangely jealous, and that’s an odd as fuck feeling because I’m related to this one. Soooo, not sure how to process that.” Teddy stood and turned to look behind him after hearing the scrape of chairs, spying Rose, James, and Andrew leaving their table to join them at the bar. Teddy turned back to the pair, grinning wickedly, mimicking locking his lips with an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“Hey,” Scorpius said casually as the three came to join them. He did not miss the way Andrew slid between them or the glare Rose shot him before masking her face into a more neutral expression. “Teddy was just whipping up shots for everyone. We were going to bring them over to you.” 

“Yes!” Teddy said, grabbing more shot glasses and pouring out whatever concoction he had made for them. It was…Scorpius narrowed his eyes to observe; pink and glittery and was sure to give him a fucking headache come morning. “Everyone, take one.” He slid a shot to each of them. Teddy prattled on some long-winded speech about Scorpius’ return. Still, the Malfoy heir was more invested in Andrew’s fingers, reaching towards Albus's jacket and fingering the material with a raised brow aimed at his boyfriend. But Teddy, ever the opportunist, lightly smacked Andrew’s shoulder. “I don’t like seeing empty hands in this bar, sir. Take two.” And then shoved a second shot glass at Andrew. 

Scorpius downed his shot, and his face blanched. It was the sweetest fucking thing ever, and he hated it, but he did love Teddy. That man was always in his corner.