#i had to punch a wall to feel manly again after reading this one

[citrusratz]

We Can Make It

A Wreck It Ralph Fanfiction from five years ago

Chapter Nine

Apologies, curses, and incoherent noises poured from her mouth like the sickeningly hot tears on her cheeks. She could barely hear herself pleading against Turbo’s red collar. The fans were shaking the whole console with their screams and the engines of the rival racers were drawing closer and closer to the finish line. What she could hear was Turbo. He stumbled awkwardly with the weight of her embrace, his arms twitching and flinching beside her.  

“Mavis, I’m not dead. I’m completely fine. How would you be nearly pushing me over if I were dead?” He stumbled backwards and bumped against his car. “Hello? Mavis? Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”  

His hands pushed against her shoulders gently at first, growing firmer with each nudge. “Breathe, kid. C’mon, let me get a look at you for a sec. Let go.” The approaching engines grew louder. “You really should be letting go now. Mavis. Mavis!”

She was wrenched off almost painfully, the little red racer holding her wrists at her sides. Her eyes were glued to the track. There was no way she could look him in the eye after that.  

“I’m sorry,” she choked, her lungs convulsing and trying to silence her. “God, I’m so sorry. I killed you. This is—” she squeaked, “—the worst – ” she hiccupped, “—thing I’ve ever done.”

“Mavis,” Turbo tugged at her arms, “this is ridiculous.”

“I know,” she shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “I know. I know!”

“Sshh, kid, c’mon! Take a deep breath, I don’t know, just, God, stop crying.”

All the eyes in the console, even the featureless faces of the screeching fans, bore down on her and crushed her into a horrible, compressed ball of awareness. She was making a complete idiot out of herself and she was not even having fun doing it. This kind of attention, this spotlight, being put on a pedestal in her moment of weakness, it all made her feel worse than vulnerable. At any second, she swore she could have cracked, fallen against the pavement, and died herself.  

She was shaken by the hands on hers. “Make-It, c’mon, snap out of it!” His hands flew up to her cheeks, patting them briskly. He took hold of her face and forced her to look at him, to see the frantic confusion and desperation in his glowing eyes. “I’ve had worse than that! I get worse than that every single day! Hell, that was fun! I’ve never flipped like that before!”

Her mouth hung agape for a second, a strangled squeak in her throat. “How could you possibly think that was fun?”

“Toots, that whole race was the most fun I’ve had since I was plugged in!” He shook her face slightly.  

Every rational part of her mind was agreeing with Turbo, trying to calm her down, to remind her that losing a life was hardly anything to him. It was not the dreadful, torturous glitch that it was to her. But her panic was still so fresh, so alive, and so very vicious. Any steady thought in her head was knocked into oblivion by the raging, blazing, painful shock rampaging through her whole body.

“I can’t do this again,” she spluttered, “I can’t kill you again. I KILLED you, cuss it all!”

“You’re not thinking straight, you’re in shock, okay? I’ve been there, believe me, I know!” His thumbs pressed into her cheeks, his voice falling into a hoarse whisper. “Just, please, stop crying!”

She held her breath, her chest twitching, staring at him for as long as her mind could manage. He stared right back, pressing his lips together, and what looked like a prolonged wince painted over his features. Her voice was hiding, but she mouthed, “I’m so sorry.”

Their exchange was cut short when Make-It’s heart jumped at the sound of screeching tires. Reflexively, before she knew she moved, she grabbed Turbo around the waist and rocketed into the air, barely avoiding getting mowed down by an enemy racer. Turbo cursed and clung to her shamelessly tightly. His last experience in the air, she recalled, was not entirely pleasant.  

When her adrenaline wore off, she dropped back down to the track, weak and shaken. One by one, the NPCs zoomed past, their cars squealing and stopping. Each of them leaped out at the first chance, advancing on the two, their eyes fixed hungrily on Make-It.

“I’ll kill her,” one of them breathed, “Good God, I’ll kill that little flying bitch.” The others seethed, hissing their malicious, barbaric intentions, fists clenching at their sides.

Her insides flickered with an angry, defensive spark. She squeezed the handle of her brush, her knuckles cracking with the strain. Before she could snarl a hostile retort, Turbo stomped in front of her, his stance tall and wide, and his head lowered in a warning glare. The blue racers slowed to a stop, and the bleachers fell silent in anticipation.

Turbo’s slow, purposeful, menacing words shattered the silence. “Unless you want to become upholstery, I suggest you back off.”

Make-It’s stomach twisted when she remembered that she was not in her game. All seven of the rivals wanted her dead, and though she was not afraid, she knew that she should have been. The air was thick and nearly painful to breathe for as long as the racers stared each other down, but the offenders steadily slid back, turning to slither to their respective cars. The matter was not settled, and everyone in the console knew it. The acid in their eyes was unmistakable; they would see her dead.

Her skin rippled as the crowds burst back into their unintelligible shouts again, and her heart smoldered with the underlying anger still present from when they cheered on as Turbo burned to death. She twitched, her muscles clenching, until she could not hold back any longer.

“SHUT THE EVER-LOVING CUSS UP!!” She bellowed, lightning cracking from the end of her brush as she swiped it through the air in rage. To her pleasant surprise, the deafening noise ended. She could feel each of them staring at her, completely still.

She nearly spat, scraping her feet and holding her brush firmly at her side. “DAMN. STRAIGHT.” Turning back to the others, she was nearly knocked over by the sight of every racer with the exact same perplexed expression.  

“Uh,” Turbo grunted, “okay, never mind,” he took her by the wrist and jumped into his car, tugging her in to sit oddly in his lap. “One thing at a time. And firstly, you’ve got to go home. The arcade’s starting way too soon.”  

Riding was a lot more comfortable when she was more properly seated, and she probably would have really enjoyed it if she were not still in a painful state of shock. As they sped towards the subway station, she slowly painted herself back to her default colors. Turbo was silent, having some difficulty reaching around her to drive normally.

“Sorry,” he grunted as he accidentally elbowed her in the cheek. “This isn’t exactly a two-person vehicle.”

“Mm,” she stared at her lap, rocking with the momentum as the car drifted to a stop.  

The two climbed out, and Make-It produced herself a new hat, pulling it gently over the back of her head. Turbo glanced around, licking his lips, scuffing the ground, staring at nothing, before stepping up to nudge her with his shoulder.

“Listen,” he began with a sigh, “I don’t know why you insist on blaming yourself for everything, but that really, really wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

“It was my idea, wasn’t it?” She wiped the dried tears off her cheeks, wincing at the sharp salt.  

“Well, yeah, but—”

“You didn’t want to at first.”

“No, I didn’t—”

“And I made that last maze way too difficult, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t too difficult!” He protested indignantly, and then flinched at himself. “Uh. No, it literally wasn’t too hard.”

She turned to look at him disbelievingly. “You died.”

He stared at her, a begrudging scowl slowly deepening over his face. “I know. That was…” he sighed again, growling and grumbling.

She did not bother asking him to clarify. She was done. She just wanted to hide in her basement and not face emotions for the rest of the day. Or the week. Or the rest of her gameplay career, ideally. For a horrible, stinging moment, she found herself regretting ever leaving her console. Swallowing against the pain, she began to step into the subway car.

Turbo seized her arm and pulled her back. “That was me, okay? I crashed. I messed up.”

“Because it was too DIFFICULT,” she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Yes, yes it was. And that’s wonderful!”

One of her eyes cracked open the slightest bit to peer over at him. He looked emotionally and mentally exhausted, yet an encouraging grin twitched at the corner of his mouth.  

“Hardly anything is ever difficult for me! It was too difficult because… Because, yes, I do need some practice. But if it was easy, well… There would be no point, would there? Just a whole lot of fun that adds up to nothing. It was… It was great practice.”

She stared at him wordlessly.

“I know, I know…” he closed his eyes, sighing gruffly. “I know I’m a perfect racer and I couldn’t possibly have anything more to learn. And God damn it, does it piss me off that I’m even telling you this…”

A snicker bubbled in her throat. After that horrible breakdown, just the tiniest laugh felt like Heaven.

He continued, “But I need you to at least try to understand that a flawless, valiant winner like me is not brought down by a couple of lost lives. What happened was not your fault, but even if it was, I’d still want you to come back and do that again, because holy cuss, was that worth it. It’s exactly what I need, okay? And I just know that you’re thinking about never coming back and doing it again. Maybe not even coming back at all, Hell, I don’t know…” He tried to scratch the back of his head, but his nails only squeaked against his helmet, so he quickly shoved his hand in his pocket.  

She took in a long, slow breath and sighed. “I don’t know, Turbo… These past couple of days have just been… augh. I’m so upset with myself on so many levels and I’m not sure where to begin trying to fix it. The thing is, I don’t fix. I just make. I make more things to clean up after.” She flicked her brush and turned one of the train cars green.  

“I… don’t think that’s what ‘Make-It’ means, toots. I don’t really know what it does, but… Well, you definitely are a walking heap of trouble, but, c’mon, let’s face it, trouble is fun.”

Her brows knit together for a moment. “That depends on what kind of trouble, honestly.”

“Wait, wait, I phrased that wrong, uh,” he clenched his knuckles, his eyes seemingly searching for the words in the air around him. “Look, I don’t know, toots. Just… I want to do that again.”

She smiled ruefully at him. “I’ll be back. I don’t know when, but I will. I just need some time to think. And… I need to straighten things out with Ralph and Felix.”

“Mmm. Good luck with that. Really.”

“Yeah, God knows I’ll need it,” she tried getting into the subway car again, but was once again yanked back. “Woah, okay, Turbo, did you or did you not say that the arcade was about to open?”

He seemed to mentally stutter as he licked his lips, staring at her contemplatively. “You… are coming back. Right?”

“Yes,” she tilted her head. “Of course. My favors aren’t over.”

He breathed out a bit of an incredulous laugh. “Favors… You’re still going on about that?”

“And I will be for a while,” she grinned, feeling her heart lift significantly as she reached up to tug at his cheek. He winced and swatted her away, and she said happily, “Don’t worry.”

He huffed. “I’m not… worried. I just, well, I’d need to know if this were the last time I’d see you.”

Her heart perked up in a horribly irritating way, but she turned her gaze back to the subway car. There was entirely too much emotion somewhere in the farthest stretch of his words and she was not feeling quite ready to face it, not even from that distance. It made her feel incredibly strange, kind of lost, and a little bit exposed.  

“…Right,” she swallowed. “It’s not. Not the last time. Nope.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod briefly. “Okay,” he let go of her arm. “Go on home, then. I, uh, I’ll see you… whenever.”

“Whenever sounds perfect,” she finally managed to climb in and sit down, and the ride activated, slowly accelerating and tugging itself along the tracks. As she approached the tunnel, Turbo’s voice called after her.

“Thanks, by the way.”

She blinked and glanced back at him standing at the station. “For what?”

“Uh,” his mouth searched for the right word, starting many, but ending them before a syllable could form. “Anything,” finally slipped out as he shrugged dramatically.

She snorted. “Any time, sourheart.” She waved, and as he disappeared when she entered the tunnel, she caught a glimpse of his hand twitching in a half-wave. Scooting along the tracks, she could have sworn she heard him curse a few times.

The walk back to her game felt like a death march, and she tried to waste as much time as she could. She painted the garbage cans with plaid polka-dots, began writing on the floor before a particularly righteous-looking baseball player picked her up and lectured her about defacing of property, balanced on the backs of the benches, weaved between passersby and avoided speaking to them in over-the-top maneuvers, and created herself a pair of sticky-soled shoes to hang from the ceiling with. Ralph could not reach her up here, she told herself, folding her arms firmly.  

Once a booming voice echoed through the whole station announcing that the arcade was opening in ten minutes, however, she shivered and pried herself out of the shoes to tumble down and land on her bare feet. Ten minutes, she reminded herself. That would be five minutes for each of them if she wanted to talk with both Felix and Ralph before the day started.

Taking a deep, steadying, yet slightly terrified breath, she finally found her way back to her game.

She hopped cautiously out of the train car when it arrived. The console was eerily quiet. Or, it might have always been this quiet, she mused to herself, and only eerie due to how her knees quaked slightly under her. She took another deep breath, trying to decide which one would be scarier to talk to.  

Finally deciding that Ralph was the easier option, she leaped along, clearing the little bridge in barely a skip, and found herself at the bottom of the dump in a few bounds. Jumping up the side of a mountain of bricks in her bare feet was not something she found particularly fun, nor did the clanking and tapping with each unsettled brick help calm her nerves.  

Her mouth dry, she called out, “Ralph?”

After there was no answer, she gulped and called out again, “Ham-hands?” She flinched. That would definitely earn her another punch, but if she were honest with herself, she kind of wanted to see herself brought to justice by hulking fists.

She was almost at the top when she heard a great shifting at the peak. A few stomps later, he was towering over the curve of the hill, thinly-veiled rage sitting behind his expression.

She waved.

“YOU DIRTY LITTLE GREMLIN!” He barrelled towards her, bricks flying out with each step, a few scuffing her cheeks and shoulders. She held her ground, bracing herself, and squeezing her eyes shut. Death was coming, but she deserved it and needed to get used to it.  

She felt his final stomp fall just before her face, and she squeaked in anticipation of his fists raining down on her, but nothing came. He must have been really winding up. God, this one was really going to hurt. Nearly a minute later, there were still no huge hands pummeling her into the brick.

One of her eyes dared to open, seeing a foot that was probably half as big as she was. Ever so cautiously, she let her gaze rise to his face. He still looked completely enraged, but he was also frozen in confusion, his fists raised over his head.

“Why aren’t you running?” He asked suspiciously, eyeing her as if she were rigged with dynamite.

She frowned. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you wanna crack my skull?”

“Well…” he clenched his fists tighter. “Not gonna lie, yeah, I kind of want to toss you across the arcade right now.”

“Do so, then,” she nodded. “I’m sorry for messing things up yesterday in my little hissy fit. So, as a favor to you, I’m gonna let you beat the crap out of me.”

His hands fell to his sides. “That’s sick, kid. I’m not gonna do that.” He turned and climbed back to the top angrily.

“What? No, it’s not.” She hopped after him.  

“I’m not gonna kill you just because you’re a twisted little brat who wants me to. That IS sick.”

She sighed. “Yeah, okay, it kind of is. Kind of really is. But uh… I just thought it would help you feel better, maybe.”

“What makes you think you know anything about making me feel better?”

“…That is a valid point…” she frowned, suddenly feeling terrible for making no attempts to get to know Ralph better. “But, well, I also feel like I deserve it for messing up so badly… Just kind of, uh, trying to take… responsibility, I suppose?”

He snorted, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Since when does Make-It Mavis, Cuss of the Century, care about responsibility?”

“I don’t,” she sighed. “But I should. Maybe a punch to the face will help me feel more responsible.”

“It won’t, kid.”

She pressed her lips together. “…Okay.”

Ralph let out a long breath through his nose. “Assuming you meant your weird little apology, though, that was pretty decent of you.”

Her spirits stirred and lifted slightly. “Was it?”

“Yeah. For you, anyway. Can’t recall ever hearing you apologize for playing pranks.”

“I don’t apologize for pranks, no, and I won’t,” she smiled impishly for a second, but it faded as she continued, “but yesterday wasn’t a prank. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry.”

“Good for you. Don’t do anything like that again or I might actually step on you.”

“I’m uncomfortable making very many promises,” she put her hands behind her head slowly, “but I will try. I’ll try to try.”

“Wow, that’s… Yeah, okay. I’m gonna… Whatever, kid, just get to your spot before the arcade opens.”

“I’m actually going to go talk to my cousin… How has he been?”

Ralph’s bushy eyebrows raised. “Well, he hasn’t been exactly happy. More like worried sick.”

She sighed deeply. “Great. I… I am not looking forward to this,” she turned to face Niceland, gazing up to Felix’s room. His window was wide open, a warm yellow light glowing from within. A completely horrible idea surfaced in her mind and her grin steadily reappeared. “Say, Ham-Hands…”

He grunted.

Peering at him sidelong, she continued, “How good is your aim?”

“Why?”

“What are the chances that you could toss me through that window up there?”

His brow furrowed and he glanced up at the building. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“Dead being the operative term, here,” he growled. “If I miss, it’s not gonna tickle.”

“I believe you could do it. Who’s got a better throwing arm than you?”

“Power isn’t the same as precision, y’little dweeb.”  

“Look,” she rolled her eyes, “all you need to do is throw me and I’ll stop bugging you.”

“For how long?”

“’Till I can walk again, assuming your aim is as bad as you claim.”

He heaved a heavy, gruff sigh. “Fine.”

Grinning, she curled herself up as tightly as she could manage, and Ralph picked her up like a tennis ball, taking a moment to judge the distance. Make-It shook with giddy, unsteady anxiety in his palm. This idea was so wonderfully terrible. If she splatted into the wall, maybe she would be out of commission long enough to justify not going to face Felix.

She thought to herself how remarkable it was, the lengths that she would go just to avoid an uncomfortable conversation.  

Swirling his wrist around, winding up, Ralph threw her so hard, she felt as if she had fully-powered rocket shoes on. And hardly a second after she left his hand, she slammed with a horrible crash into the wall, back first, upside-down, completely spread-eagled. Ralph was right; it was the farthest thing from a tickle, and she felt the fibers of her code fire up and die down. By the time she had regenerated, flashing numbly, she was still stuck in the brick.  

“I told you!” Ralph called up to her.

She returned to tangibility and felt the vicious lightning zip through her code. Clenching her teeth against the searing pain, her eyes watering, she had to admit that being broken was a lot less painful than burning to death.  

Returning to normal, her pain fading and being replaced with a beautifully relieving unfeeling state, she sighed shakily and called back to him, “I’m okay.”  

She let her legs fall down and caught on with her fingers in the Make-It shaped indent in the brick. Her head spun slightly, and she was just shaken enough to justify not coming to see Felix. With an unsteady sigh of relief, she began to plan her route down, but nearly dropped when she heard her cousin’s voice.  

“Ralph?! What was that?” He leaned out of the open window, prompting Make-It to flatten herself slowly against the brick. “The arcade isn’t open yet!”

“I know,” he huge man called back, folding his arms. “Look to your right, Felix.”

She swore under her breath.

Felix gasped with every bit of his being. “Mavy!! Are you alright?!”

“Sour candy,” she muttered.  

“…What?”

“Fine,” she grinned sheepishly.  

“Did Ralph throw you up here?!”

“Yeah, but, uh, it’s fine. Don’t get mad at him for it, please.”

Felix looked horribly conflicted, stomping his feet slightly and huffing. “Well, alright, but c’mere!” He reached out to grab her hand, helping her in through the window. She stood guiltily, rubbing her back as he leaned out to fix the broken bricks left behind. When he turned around, her joints cracked with the force of his hug.

“Oh my land, Mavy, I’ve been so worried about you! I’m sorry about how things went yesterday, I really am. I’m sorry about everything I said. I didn’t mean it that way, but that doesn’t make it any better. I’m so sorry, and oh dear Mavy, I’m just so glad you’re home.”

Make-It bit her lip. “Yeah—”

“Was everything okay last night? I know you stayed with Turbo; I came looking for you, and I wanted to talk to you, but he wouldn’t let me come in… I’m sorry, Mavy, I should have tried harder…”

“I was fine, cuz,” she grunted under the pressure of his arms. “I just needed the night to myself.”

“With Turbo?”

“…Yes.”

He pushed her out to arm’s length, all-too-genuine concern flooding from his features. “So, did you two make-up? How did that go?”

“Had a couple drinks,” she shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “All is… uh, well, if not forgiven, then… Uh, he’s not pissed at me, I think..?”

“But…” he held onto her shoulders tighter, “why wasn’t he letting you leave?”

Her heart ignited in a spark of indignant anger. “He wasn’t keeping me prisoner, cuz. I could have left if I wanted to.”

“But… Forgive me, Mavy, but why would you want to stay with… Well, Turbo? When you could be here?”

She grew increasingly uncomfortable. “I don’t know, it’s just, well, it’s nice to have a friend, I guess. You know, one that’s not…” she winced against herself, hoping desperately that she would not hurt his feelings somehow, “not related to me, you know?”

“Oh,” he nodded briefly, “no, I understand, Mavy. I’m glad you’re making friends, I really am.” He grinned, and, somehow, she felt a little insulted. “It’s just that, well, I almost never see Turbo being chummy with anybody… Other than his fans, but I’m not sure if that counts, considering they’re… well…”

“Brainless. I know.”

“How did you manage to make friends with such a bristly fellow?”

She licked her lips, contemplating, not entirely sure what the answer was to that question. “Alcohol.”

Felix blinked. “Alcohol?”

“…Yeah, I got him drunk and when he woke up, we were friends.”

“…Is that really what happened?”

“More or less, actually,” she shrugged. Intimate details were not something she wanted to share with her cousin.

He shook his head incredulously. “So… everything was okay last night, spending the night with him?”

“Yes,” she almost snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. Felix flinched a bit, and she felt like she had been punched in the gut.  

“Alright,” he raised his hands slightly, trying to calm her down. “I just had to make sure. Otherwise, I’d, well, I’d have to go give him a good talkin’ to.” He nodded firmly, and she supressed a snort.  

He carried on, “But… Mavy, about yesterday, in the basement…” he put his hands together, his gaze lowered humbly. “I am really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

She stared at the sickeningly clean yellow wall. “Yeah. I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I think you reacted just the right amount, considering what I said… And, well, I want to talk with you about it—” Make-It shuddered, “—and help you feel better about yourself. Because, Mavy, you don’t deserve to feel like a pest. You’re a really uppity gal with a completely unique sense of humor, not a burden.”

His words clawed at her heart painfully, and she felt her teeth bearing down on her bottom lip. She felt like she was being peeled, and the outside air was so very, very cold.  

“Mavy… do you want to tell me about how you’ve been feeling?”

Her mouth opened, but no sound surfaced. She simply fought back her tears, because if there was anybody she did not want to cry in front of, it was her cousin. Shaking her head slightly, she crossed the room to sit gently on the couch. He followed her and settled in beside her, carefully resting his arm around her shoulders.  

She jumped at the sound of her own voice. “I don’t know who or what I am,” she confessed slowly and quietly. “I never know what I’m supposed to do or feel. God, I literally feel like a baby. Just… augh. I don’t know how to handle anything.”

“Well, sure you do, Mavy,” he squeezed her softly. “You’re not a baby, you’re just about as old as I am! You’ve got years of wisdom and intelligence behind you.”

“No,” she hissed at herself, still at war with her tears, “No, I don’t. All I have to go on is barely a week’s worth of sitting around in my basement making things.”

“What do you mean..?”

He could not be serious. There was no way he could not know. “Don’t you understand why we’re here? We’re characters in a video game. We are not actual people with real lives that start and end like they’re supposed to.”

“Oh, I know that. I knew that the second we were plugged in. That was actually my very first thought.”

“…It was?”

He nodded briefly. “The first thing I remember thinking was, ‘I am a good guy, and this is my game.’ After that, I started remembering my programming, what I was supposed to do with this,” he lifted his hammer slightly, “my backstory, and who I was.”

Make-It’s gaze slowly fell. “That’s… not how it was for me. I remembered my backstory before my programming… I… I guess when they made me, they didn’t even bother putting my code in the right order…”

“What? No, of course they did. Everything about you and your code is perfectly healthy.”

She peered at him sidelong. “Since when are you an expert on code?”

“I’m not,” he laughed slightly, “I’m most definitely not. But I can tell there’s nothing wrong with you, Mavy, and there never has been.”

“Look, when I came into being, I had such little significance to the gameplay that I actually had to be TOLD that I was a character. I have such little gameplay programming that my backstory outweighs it, so of course I’d remember that first. If I had so little to do with the game, why did they bother writing such an intricate backstory for me? Why did they have to put that kind of revelation on me?”

Felix paused, delving into his thoughts. “I don’t know, Mavy. I don’t know what they had or have planned for you.”

“That’s what I hate,” she breathed, and she felt the moisture finally creep into her eyes. “I hate not knowing. I don’t know anything. I never know if what I’m doing is right. It really is like I was born little over a week ago.”

“No, it’s not. You still have all those years behind you.”

“No, I DON’T!” She shouldered out from him, pushing herself across the couch, trying not to look at him and find out what kind of horribly emotional expression he was making. “None of that is real! I never had any uptight, suppressive parents, and I never had an awesome, kooky old great-grandma, and there was never a monochromatic town or any of that! Those memories are manufactured, none of them are real, none of them mean ANYTHING! And the worst part is that for the first little bit of my existence, I actually thought that they did. They meant something to me. I remembered it all and I—I was proud of it, most of it – and then everything that I thought was real was a lie. So I was not afraid, I was ready to have a new start, to make something out of that desolate basement that I was thrown into by the programmers. And now, I realize that I have NO IDEA how to start! I have nothing to go off of… nothing! I just… I feel like a stupid fish flopping around on a deck—no, in a desert, as far away from any thought of water as possible. I don’t know where to go, I don’t know who to be. All I have to go off is this lousy code in my head that’s so simple, so limited, that it doesn’t even help at all!”

Felix was silent for quite a while as she stared at the floor, trying to disappear, gnawing at her lips and blinking out tear drops. “In my backstory, I… I did things right. I had fun. I was clever and crafty. But now… I can’t remember how to be who I supposedly was. I feel like… I was handed this life and briefly told who I’m supposed to be, and… just dropped off to face it all alone and try not to die along the way.”

She glanced over at his leg, not ready to see his face. “It’s stupid,” she whispered. “It’s really, really stupid. But I feel like I’m doing a terrible job figuring myself out.”

“Mavy,” Felix began, scooting over to her and putting his arm around her shoulders again, despite her trying to flinch away. “I know that none of it actually happened. But… well… I don’t think that our backstories are there to be an actual past. It’s true that we started a week ago. And those years may not be real, they may not have really happened, but they’re still ours. We all have our own story. And I think that, just maybe, we’ve got them to help us.”

She swallowed. “How?”

“Well… to give us something to learn from, of course. If we were plugged in and didn’t have our backstories, well, we really would be like babies. We wouldn’t be able to do anything, because we would have nothing, no sort of knowledge. And the memories are fake, Mavy, sure. But the knowledge, and the lessons, those are real. And if we ignore our backstories… How are we going to keep those lessons?”

Make-It kept staring at the tediously groomed shag carpet. She had no idea how to feel about what she was hearing. Trying to bring back memories of her supposed past was something she had avoided for the entirety of her existence, ever since she realized they were mere programming.  

Felix continued, “Don’t you remember when we met, Mavy? What we first said to each other?”

She tried desperately to suppress her laughter, but it came out in a painful snort. “I wouldn’t call that conversation exactly inspirational…”

He sighed ruefully, smiling, still. “Don’t you remember, though? I said ‘Hey there, little Mavy. I’m your cousin, Felix.’ And you said…?”

It was completely impossible for her to hold back a smile, and keeping the laughter out of her voice was just as futile. “I said—” she chortled, covering her face with one of her hands, “I said ‘Why do your buttons line up with your nipples?’”

Felix laughed outright, shaking his head, and Make-It was practically wheezing, she was laughing so hard. He continued, “I knew, right then, that you were really something else.”

She cackled, leaning back into the couch and letting her head fall back, still holding her hands to her face. “Oh sweet midi…” she shook her head incredulously, “I must have been, like, seven years old, and that’s the first thing I noticed..!”

“And do you remember the first little adventure in the woods that you took me out on? Remember the frog?”

She spluttered. “The one I put in your pants?”

“Yup, that one.”

She could hardly believe how hard she was laughing, after a second ago being so forlorn. It was just too hilarious; she could not help herself. She leaned against the arm of the couch, holding her sides, burying her face against her knees.  

“And how you’d take me across wide, rocky streams, steep hills, up trees, and I would be so unsure? And I’d hesitate, and sometimes I’d be scared? Don’t you remember what you used to tell me, then?”

Her laughter slowly ceased as she recalled. Yes, she remembered.

“We can make it, cuz. We can make it.”

She could see him nodding from the corner of her eye. “You always knew we would be fine. Even in the worst situations. And of course, you must remember what I started calling you after you had told me that so many times.”

Her eyes widened a bit, her heart twisting over the fact that she had even once forgotten.  

“Make-It Mavy,” she breathed.  

“Yeah,” he said gently, finding his grip around her shoulders again. “Make-It Mavy. That’s how you got your title. It wasn’t because of this.” He tapped the bucket on her hip. “And boy, did you live up to that name. There was no situation that you could not make beautiful and happy. Nothing ever held you down or shut you up. You always made it.”

She stared at her hands in her lap, wringing them around each other, squeezing the tips of her gloves. With a heavy gulp, she decided to brave a glance at his face. Her heart flickered nervously as she saw how soft, sincere, and reassuring his eyes were. It made her so uncomfortable, but she put in all her effort to not look away while he continued.

“That’s who I believe you are, Mavy. You’re Make-It Mavis, because you can take anything, no matter how dismal or plain or what have you, and make it into something more. That’s what you’ve always done. And I know that you can still do it, if you just remember , if you don’t try to fight your wonderful story.”

Something inside of her broke. Some manner of barrier ruptured, and she found herself crying again, but happier than she had been in a very long time. Her arms crushed Felix against her so tightly that he squeaked and squirmed for a moment before hugging her back just as firmly. Her emotions came flooding out exactly the way that they always had in Felix, the way that made her so uncomfortable. Feeling it happen to herself felt so wrong, so foreign, but so genuinely needed.  

“Thank you so much,” she muttered into his shoulder, rocking from side to side. “God, I thought I was broken.”

Her cousin chuckled briefly and shrugged in her embrace. “I can fix it.”

She only held him tighter, unsure of whether she was laughing or sobbing, but deeming either one appropriate. Pushing him back and wiping her eyes, bashful and embarrassed, still feeling so oddly vulnerable, she remembered something from several days prior.  

“Hey, uh…” she tried to find the words that would not sound completely stupid. “Could we, uh, maybe… Take a look at that photo album you tried to show me before?”

Felix’s face lit up brighter than Game Central Station. Before he could answer, however, a voice echoed through the console.

“ATTENTION. THE ARCADE IS NOW OPEN.”

“Uh oh,” they said in unison, looking at each other. Felix hopped up involuntarily, walking robotically towards the door. Make-It stood, grasping at any thought she could find before he was gone.

“Okay, if not now, then, uh, maybe when the arcade closes? Can I just meet you back up here?”

He grinned and bounced cheerily. “You most certainly can!”

She smiled in earnest, heading for the window and climbing halfway out. “I look forward to it.”

[crimson-mage-02]

Christmas Treat (Smut)

Summary: Damian and Raven had moved in their new home during the Christmas break while Damian thought through one of his hardest decisions if he ever want to inherit the Wayne enterprises. Meanwhile, Raven has a surprising Christmas treat for him.

Hope you all enjoy! @ravenfan1242, here is my fic. Hope you like it! 

A/N: If you do not wish to read it as it is smut, you can keep scrolling down the page. And if some of you readers do not support this ship, do not read it. I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable or I do not want any hate. Please, read the title before reading. Thank you. 

It was a lovely snowy day in all of the Jump City. It was Christmas Day, and everyone were all excited to see everyone for the break and celebrate it together. Damian had bought the house outside of Jump City where they can see the city clearly and the Titans Tower.

He wanted to make sure he had all of the privacy for himself and for his beloved girlfriend, Raven who was putting up Christmas decorations on the doors, on the wall and on the kitchen bench. She has been cheery all day long.

Damian and Conner got their couch in the living room with the wide screen tv, while Conner was admiring the architecture inside their house and smooth marbled floor in the lounge room. “Wow, looks like you had picked the right place to live in.”

“Yeah, nice digs!” Gar complimented with a grin as he winked at Damian who rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Wow! Raven these decorations are so well done!” Donna chimed as she skipped into the house placing two trays of food on the counter.

“Yeah, I like what you had done to the place.” Tara nodded in agreement looking at the chandelier in the dining room with the golden metal were curved as a raven. She noticed all of their photos from their time as Titans were on the walls and on the table in the lounge.

“It is looking great, guys. But you got the beds next Damian. I can help.” Jaime offered.

“That would be great, thanks.” Damian smiled at his friends and turned to Raven who approached him. “How are the decorations, beloved?”

“Going well, but we need a Christmas tree still.” Raven replied as she kissed him on the lips before heading to carry a box in her hands. “And we need to get our clothes in our new bedroom.”

“Of course. I also need mine inside as well as I get the mattresses out.” Damian nodded. “Sorry, if I haven’t been much help in the house.”

“Dami, it’s fine. I can handle it. Me and the girls were going to decorate the house while you guys get the wine and beer from the shops.” Raven smiled at him. “But don’t let Jaime and Gar get crazy with the beer. Not like the last time.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that time when we were nearly arrested. They are lucky that your father was there, Muscle Man.” Tara said to him.

“That was one time. And we won’t do it ever again, mama!” Gar exclaimed as he pleaded to his girlfriend. Tara chuckled in amusement as she put a mistletoe above his head and kissed him on his cheek. “Good.”

“So what time is this lovely feast going to be?” Donna asked.

“Oh, well, we could have it tonight if you all are feeling up to it.” Raven smiled at their friends who were all looking at one another with worried expressions. “You cannot make it, can you?”

“Well, Jaime has a hot date with Traci and me and Gar will be at the Tower ourselves while Dick and Kori will be away.” Terra said as she looked over at the newest couple Conner and Donna feeding each other with some cookies. “Not sure about those two.”

“Hmm, would it be alright if we all come at Christmas Eve for the dinner and then at New Years?” Damian suggested.

“Hmm, I like it. And I can introduce Traci you all guys.” Jaime nodded in agreement as Wally came in with some Christmas donuts.  

“Anyone?” Wally offered with a sheepish smile. “So, I heard Christmas Eve and New Years Day dinner here at the new love birds house. I’m in.”

“Sound wonderful, but girls, we are still going to do some Christmas shopping after?” Donna asked with a smile.

“Of course, I still have a few ideas for a present for our team leader here. And I know who will present it for him.” Terra slyly grinned at Raven who blushed deep red while Damian stood oblivious, looking at the girls in confusion.

“Well this time, Damian and us boys are going on a night patrol.” Gar grinned with Conner leaning on his shoulder.

“Yup. It will be us guys, fighting crime along with some nice manly time.” Conner chuckled as she fixed the collar of his shirt and winked at Donna who blushed light pink. “But first, let’s get that huge bed of yours in your new room.”

Damian got inside the truck and him and Jaime got the mattresses out with Conner guiding them inside the house with the girls helping Raven with the decorations in the lounge. They had already decorated the railings of the stairs and had placed the photos on the wall.

Once they had done putting the beds all together in the room, the boys got ready to go out and do their patrol while the girls already went shopping. Damian made sure that the doors stay locked with Titus slept on the floor in the lounge peacefully.

In the city, Damian kicked the last one of the thieves that was escaping from the jewellery store with Kid Flash running out with a tied-up thieves and Conner stood beside him with one tied up man with his mouth gagged.

“Okay, that’s it for now.” Conner smiled while getting the lasso back he had borrowed from Donna.

Kid Flash, Gar and Jaime had joined them in handing them to the authorities while Gordon thanked them all and had wished them a Merry Christmas. “Alright boys, you better get going if you don’t want to miss in spending more time with your girls.”

“Oh, I can think of who cannot wait to get their hands on his woman.” Conner wiggled his eyebrows at Damian who slapped him on the back of his head.

“Heh, we all have girlfriends, and I am not sure of Kid here.” Gar pointed at Kid Flash who had his arms crossed.

“Come on, is it really hard to believe that I have a girlfriend now? I mean I dated her for three years now.” Kid Flash explained to his friends.

“Hmm, we shall need more proof.” Damian smirked at the speedster.

Gordon laughed lightly and then wiped his glasses. “Ah, I remember my time at your age. Always about girls. Remember keep them close and it will be all worth it.”

That made Damian think of Raven and smiled at the thought of living with her in their house after moving out of their apartment. He was glad he had found his love, to share his world with, to be able to be more open with her. Be able to share their emotions. To be at ease with each other.

“Well, uh, I will get everything here sorted. You boys go have fun.” Gordon smiled at them and the walked off to his car with the other police officers thanking them and greeted them a very nice Christmas.

The boys went on top of a building near Wayne Enterprises with Damian looking at it, he was to inherit the company but what if he didn’t want to inherit it and wanted to do something different than working where his father worked.

“So, your girlfriend….is she a hero or a normal girl?” Conner asked while he was texting his girlfriend on his phone with a grin on his face.

“Guys, come on. Why is it so hard to believe I do have a girlfriend?” Kid Flash exasperated looking at his friends.

“Don’t know. We’d just didn’t pictured you as a serious type. So you guys are like have an apartment or….?” Jaime asked.

“Yes, we got an apartment outside of her university campus. We adopted a dog together and we are in Vietnamese lit class together. We are nearly graduating. Oh man…mine is due at 8am in the morning.” Wally groaned in frustration. “Well, it is nearly the Christmas break, so I should be able to do it.”

“What’s her name?” Gar asked with Damian coming to his side to hear this conversation.

“Her name is Artemis Lian Crock.” Wally replied with love in his voice. “Aw man, I cannot wait until I come home. I mean, she said she’ll be waiting for me after this.”

“Wow… looks like you guys are so serious. Congratulations, West.” Damian smiled at his friend and teammate.

“Thanks, man. Now I hope you don’t mind. I should get going.” Wally saluted as he ran off the building to see his girlfriend leaving the rest of the team on the building.

“Man, I cannot believe that all of us have girlfriends and are moving in different directions. Damian is finally going to move in a new house with Raven, Jaime, you are with your girlfriend and are moving in together, Conner is with Donna and here I am, living with Terra.” Garfield smiled as he sat on the edge of the building.

“Life can be exciting.” Jaime nodded with the snow falling down on them. “I remember it was just us three boys and now five of us.”

“Yes, we had come a long way.” Damian nodded in agreement with a smile with the snow falling down on them and he put on his hood on. “I think you all are dying to go home and celebrate Christmas with your girlfriends. It is safe for me to say we are done for the night.”

“Aw, thank you so much!” Conner dramatically hugged him with a pat on the back and then pulled back away from him. “Have a lovely evening with Raven. But I must warn you, do not hurt her and if you did, I’ll punch you in the face.”

“Conner, you know I will never hurt her. We have been together for 5 years.” Damian pointed out, trying to get him to calm down.

“Oh, well, then, I have no problem with that at all.” Conner chuckled as he started to fly up into the starry night. He was already excited to see Donna after their nightly patrol. He has plenty of plans for the Christmas season.

“Well, I better get going, Traci really wanted to watch more Christmas movies at home.” Jaime grinned as he flew in another direction with Garfield smiling brightly. Damian watched him transforming and jumped roof to roof until he cannot see him. He might need to go and help Raven get everything all sorted out in their new home.

(~)

Damian walked towards to the door hearing Titus barking excitedly. He smiled softly and opened the door seeing Titus was dressed as a reindeer with a bell collar around his neck. He chuckled in amusement. “Hey, boy, looks like you had fun with Rachel, hmm?”

He closed the doors behind him and took off his cape and took off his shoes with Titus running out to the backyard, much to his confusion. “Titus, don’t you want your food, boy? Oh…well, uh Rachel? Rachel, you here?” Damian called out to his girlfriend but no answer.

He walked towards the kitchen to try and cook some dinner for himself and Raven. Once he made a turn to the kitchen he stood in shock. “R-R-Rachel?! What are—where did you g-get that outfit?!”

Raven blushed and hugged herself, covering her cleavage from him. She was wearing a Santa Claus outfit with a skirt and fishnet leggings. Her hair was braided with a mistletoe hair tie. Damian blushed as he had his hand over his mouth, looking at his girlfriend.

“I uh, well, thought it would be nice to try on the costume that Terra and Donna had bought for me.” Raven replied shyly while hugging herself tightly, looking away with a blush on her cheeks.

“O-Oh? Y-You look stunning in that dress.” Damian cleared his throat and then smiled widely. “So, are you going to wear that during our first Christmas dinner in our new house?” He held her arms gently while looking into her amethyst eyes.

“W-well, I suppose. I was wondering if you really do like it.” Raven mumbled as she looked away from him. He was leaning down for a kiss, but she moved away much to his disappointment and heard her giggling softly.

“While the girls had left and you were at your patrol, I was making some dinner while you were you gone. I got the last box unpacked and I put all of my books in our spare room.” Raven said as she got the pot on the table with him helping her getting the spoons and forks. “I don’t know what we could do for the spare room.”

“Maybe we could save it for something else? Have you ever… consider having children?” Damian asked her.

Raven sat back down on her chair and looked at him with a smile, placing her hand on hers. She always wanted to have a child or children. She never thought of having a family and she would love to start a family with him someday.

“Of course I do. But not right now.” Raven replied with a smile as she put a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I understand.” Damian smiled, looking into her eyes lovingly and then placed his lips on hers softly. Feeling the warmth from her lips and moaned softly. They broke apart from their kiss and had started with their first dinner in their new house.

“So, have you thought of your father’s offer?” Raven asked him while pouring some warm milk for themselves. She heard Damian sighing softly and crossed his arms.

“I do not know, beloved. I-I mean it is such an honour to inherit it but right now, I felt that…I am not ready yet. Father and I had talked about it. He said he would wait for my answer to his offer.” Damian replied.

“Then when the time comes, you’ll know what to say.” Raven smiled at him, standing up from her chair and kissed him on his forehead before going to the counter. She looked at her boyfriend’s back and then smacked her lips together as she looked down at her outfit with a tight-fitting Santa Claus outfit. “So…. Do you…want some dessert?”

“Hmm I would love to try though I am not a sweet tooth, beloved. Sorry.” Damian replied, putting the pot back on the stove and the plates and cutleries in the sink.

Raven huffed softly seeing how he was being oblivious to her now even she was still wearing her costume for him. In their very first house. She was hoping she would make it extra special for him. After all of his hard work, he really does deserve to have some time to relax himself. And herself.

“So, the table is all cleaned, I shall feed Titus. Wherever he may be.” Damian said looking out the windows. “I’ll meet you upstairs, beloved.” He got a bowl with some dog food for Titus and walked out to their backyard while Raven had an idea in mind.

“Here you go, boy.” Damian smiled and then looked at his new dog house. “Looks like you already made yourself at home. Tomorrow we’ll have to find some new plants here for Rachel.” He pet Titus and walked back inside the house, locking the door behind him.

He went to the shower to get himself all freshen up. There was two toilets in this new house, one was near his new office and training room. He was going to put all of his clothes in his new bedroom with Raven. He got into his comfortable clothes while drying his hair with a towel and walked towards his bed room but stopped seeing petals trailed all over in the hallway.

Damian raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “Rachel?” He heard her not answering him when he was calling her. He slowly walked inside their room seeing more rose petals on the bed and candles lit up. He gulped nervously as he looked for his girlfriend. “Rachel?”

“Yes, Damian?” Raven appeared from their bathroom, now in a different outfit. She just had the red shirt with a belt, resembled as Santa Claus while still wearing her fishnet stockings, with no skirt on.  

Damian was trying to restrain himself from pinning her onto the bed like last time. “You like what you see, Dami?” Raven asked softly, whispering in his ear as he shuddered. Feeling her hands where on his chest.

Then he breathed out shakily, feeling her soft and delicate hands were trailing down his arms and then heard something clicking. He looked down in confusion and saw he was now in his own cuffs.

“W-Where did you get these?” Damian asked her.

“I got it from your costume in the closet. You forgot to pack it all away after moving the mattress and the bed in here.” Raven replied with a smirk as she pushed him onto the bed. “Now, it is time for your early Christmas present.”

Now, that was unexpected of her to do this. He never knew she had it in her. He grunted softly, feeling her hand was rubbing against his cock. She hasn’t taken off his pants, yet she was teasing him. He cannot help…but it felt so good. He grunted and moan much to Raven’s satisfaction.

“You like that?” Raven whispered against his ear and trailed kissed on his neck while she rubbed her knee in between his legs to get another reaction. Hearing him shouting out with pleasure. He gritted his teeth, opening his eyes and watched her every move as her cheeks were tainted light pink.

“Yes, I like it very much, Rachel.” Damian panted softly while smiling as his emerald eyes shone brightly.

“Good.” Raven smirked and then unzipped his pants, taking off them off as well as his underwear, seeing his dick was already hard. She gasped softly and stared at it with admiration while her hand gently touching it, then stroked it while he shuddered.

“Rachel… Gahh!” Damian groaned, feeling her rubbing his dick and licked it with her tongue, begun sucking it while squeezed his balls. She loved hearing his soft groans and moans. It made her crazy enough to wait a whole month for him from his mission with the Bat family.

A month was easy enough to make her feel more crazy and wanted him more. She wanted more of him. She sucked the whole dick and muffled against it with more hot cum, shooting in her mouth, pulled away from it and licked her lips. “Wow… you came a lot.”

Damian panted, laughed while smirking. “It’s all your magical tongue of yours. Is there more surprised I should know about, beloved?”

“Hmm, you’ll see. But this time, it’s my turn and I will unwrap your present if you behave well, Mr Wayne. You have been in the naughty list for making me wait for the entire month from your mission.” Raven grinned as she took off her costume, leaving out her stockings.

He was enjoying the view that was being displayed in front of him. He licked his lips as he sat up and tried to holding her waist but remembered he was cuffed. “Nah uh, not yet bad bird.” Raven chuckled sexily as she bent down and took off his pants and his underwear.

She stroked his dick again and he grunted and clenched his fists tightly while feeling a warm tongue licking the tip. She moaned as she sucked in all of him. “Mmm, you got big… and so damn hard.”

“Beloved…. Can you please take this cuff off? I don’t know how much I can take it anymore…Ahh!” Damian moaned, holding her head while she continued to suck his dick. Then he came again, this time, in her mouth, letting her drink all of his juice.

She licked her lips, tasting the hot juice in her mouth. She looked up at him and grinned. She got the key from the bedside table and uncuffed him. Damian crashed his lips onto her and pushed her into the bed. Kissing her hard while grinding his body into hers while, exploring her curves and breasts, massaging one as he bit one nipple while licking it. She moaned loudly while holding him tightly and wrapped her legs around his waist.

He broke away from the kiss and took off his shirt, making her see the brilliant sight in front of her. She let her hands touch his chest and abs, she bit her lip when she saw him fingering her with two fingers as she screamed and moaned loudly.

He grinned and decided to put in a third finger to make her even more satisfied. “How do you like that, beloved?” Damian growled softly while kissing and sucking her neck, leaving hickeys.

“Mmm, I want you…now.” Raven demanded as she laid her head back on her pillow while he smirked, taking off his pants and underwear. He bent down and straightened his dick lined up then thrusted himself into her, making her dug her nails in deeper into his toned back.

He thrusted in her roughly with her legs on his shoulders bending her body a bit while she moaned loudly and panted heavily while looking into his emerald eyes. “That…that feels so good.”

Damian put down her legs as he pulled away and then turned her body and thrusted his dick into her once again, making her shout out while he smacked her ass while her insides were squeezing his dick tightly, making him groan louder and slapped her ass hard, making her scream again.

She stood on all fours, making him thrust in her more harder and faster, picking up the pace. He leaned down, grabbing hold of her bouncing breasts, while he had pinned her down. “Ahh! Dami. I’m coming!”

“As will I!” Damian grunted, holding her body tightly as he came into her with her screaming out with pleasure before they both collapsed on their bed and panted heavily. Damian got up and turned her body to face him. He looked into her eyes and then leaned down for a passionate deep kiss on her lips with her playing with his locks.

“Now that was a great Christmas treat, beloved.” Damian sighed contently as he laid his back on the pillow with her chuckling softly and laid next him.

“I am glad. You have been away for the entire month and I could not wait to have sex with you.” Raven said, trailing circles on his abs.

“Sorry, beloved. My father insists and he has talked about inheriting his company one day. I-I just know that there was something missing in my life. I got a few family and you. But I felt that I wanted more. Like…. Like a…”

“A family?” Raven asked him with him looking at her.

“Yes, correct. A family.” Damian smiled and felt her straddling on his lap.

“Well, we could get to work, Mr. Wayne.” Raven smirked as she kissed him while they had their tongues dancing and fighting for dominance. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her ass tightly with her muffling against his lips.

“Care for round two?” Damian growled as he bit on her neck, giving her another hickey while she moaned, biting her lips, holding his head closer to her. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Raven giggled as she got on his lap, grinding her clitoris against his hard cock and then put it inside her, while biting her lips. She moaned in pleasure while he held onto her curves gently while kissing her neck.

She began to move slowly and steady, while Damian held her body closer to him and she let him bury himself in her chest while moving around, letting her wrap her legs around him, started to move more faster to keep up the pace while he started to thrust and grind onto her, making her groan and moaned with pleasure.

He trailed his kisses on her neck down to her breast. Raven bit her lip as she grind herself deeper while she moved around with his cock inside of her. She never felt good in her entire life! She leaned her head back while he sucked onto her neck and held it with his other free hand.

He switched, he laid her back into the headboard and he stood on his knees and started to thrusted into her more harder and faster with both of her legs on his shoulders while she held on the head board. They both groaned and moaned louder with Damian grunting in effort to make her even more satisfied.  

He picked up the pace. “Ahh! Dami!” She screamed while he slapped her ass while his other hand massaged her left breast, and his right hand holding her waist to keep her steady as he thrusted into her slowly, all the way into her womb as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ahh!”

She felt him cumming into her while her entire body shook with pleasure and he set her down, pulling her legs up and bend it down towards her face and started to thrust more harder, while she gripped into the sheets. “There! Damian! That’s…that’s the spot!” Raven panted softly while looking into his emerald eyes.

They both panted, moaned loudly while their bed was shaking underneath them with Raven shouting out while feeling his hot cock pushing in with juice shooting in her. Feeling the hot sensation inside of her while she held Damian’s hands.

He panted heavily while feeling her trembling hand caressing his cheeks with a smile. They both cuddled underneath the sheets with Damian laying down next to her while she laid down on his arm, hugging him tightly. She smiled contently seeing this was the best Christmas treat ever.

“Ah, well, you did certainly learned some new moves.” Raven chuckled while he laughed softly.

“Of course, anything to keep my beloved Rachel satisfied. What type of man would I be if I didn’t do that?” Damian asked her with a smirk on his face. She laughed along with him and then caressed his cheek as they both leaned in for another kiss on the lips.

“Thank you. It was worth waiting for one month after your mission.” Raven sighed contently with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, rubbing his thumb against her soft and smooth skin. He smiled hearing her drifting to sleep. He put a few strands of her hair out of the way to let him watch her sleep peacefully. He turned off the lights and slept with her underneath their sheets. Enjoying each other’s companies and their embrace.

(~)

Few weeks later

Early in the morning, Damian woke up first to cook some breakfast, he let his girlfriend sleep in while he grabbed his shorts and walked downstairs. He went out to unlock the door and called Titus in for breakfast.

He got out his treats from the cupboard where Raven had told him it would be. He also got out some pans to cook the eggs and some bacon. He cooked some eggs while flipping the bacon. Titus barked at him with his tail wagging back and forth.

“Alright, alright, here.” Damian chuckled, giving him some bacon.

Once he had finished cooking the eggs and bacon, he got themselves some toast to go along with it. He set them on the table neatly with some red roses placed in the centre of the table. He walked up the stairs only hear Raven was throwing up in their bathroom.

He knocked on the door. “May I come in?”

“Yes.” Raven replied, while holding her hair back. Then felt his warm hand, rubbing her back while tying up her hair up to keep it out of the way. He continued to rub her back a few times and gave her soothing comforting words.

“Sorry, I didn’t know I was going to feel unwell today.” Raven apologised, wiping her mouth in the sink.

“It is quite alright, Rachel. Maybe you can skip work today while I go and visit Father. Perhaps seeing the doctor would do you good.” Damian suggested to her.

“I don’t get it. I was feeling fine yesterday.” Raven hummed, putting her hand to her chin, thinking of possibilities on why she was feeling sick…..then it hit her. “Uh…Damian…. Do you uh, by any chance, used protection?”

Damian thought back on their tryst weeks before Christmas and the days before they moved in their new house after going on a mission. He thought long and hard then realised he…he… he didn’t use protection! He didn’t use it and he was busy being enchanted by her beauty and elegancy!

“Dami? You did, right?” Raven asked sternly with her hands glowing bright purple.

“No. I didn’t! I forgot to put it on when we did it.” Damian replied nervously while seeing her blank expression and then it changed into a determined look, getting something from the cupboard.

“Go! I may need some privacy!” Raven exclaimed, pushing her boyfriend out of their bathroom. He decided to wait while sitting on their bed. He was wondering if everything was alright or not. Or maybe perhaps, he made her feel uncomfortable?

He made sure she was comfortable in their relationship. It has been 5 years since they gotten together and now are living together. He made sure he listens to her while she listens to him. Both made sure they live the best of their lives.

His eyes glanced over at his closet and spied on the little box. He was hoping he would propose but he wanted to wait for the right time comes. They are still young. He is 21 and she is 22 years old. Both may not capable to have children but are dreaming to have children in the future.

He heard the door opening seeing her holding a pregnancy test in her hands. His eyes widened and realised it may be positive. “It is...positive, Dami. We are going to have a baby.” Raven smiled softly at him.

“R-Really?” Damian asked as he hugged her in his strong arms. “We-we’re going to be parents! W-what about your work?”

“Oh, I will tell my boss what has happened. And although, we are still young, you still work for your dad and well, you are still Robin.” Raven rambled while looking at the test in her hands.

“Hey, beloved, everything will be fine. I am sure of it. I’ll be there for you and I’ll protect the two of you so matter what. I promise.” Damian promised her while kissing her softly on the lips. “I know this is sudden, I am truly blessed to have our little bird coming in our lives.”

Raven laughed at this statement and watched him hugging her around her waist with his ear pressed against her belly where their baby is growing. She placed her hand on top of his head while he smiled softly. “Thank you, Damian. I love you.”

“I love you too, beloved.” Damian smiled lovingly as he stood up on his feet and leaned down for a gentle kiss with his arms securely around her waist carefully, trying not to hurt their baby.

[tamcitrus]

Missunderstanding.

pairing | Kirishima Eijiro x f!reader

genre | angst, friends to lovers

warnings | none

words | 900

Tam’s notes: My second work to the 7MIH collab! And my first BNHA work in the blog! I really hope you like it!

You watched helplessly how the bottle stopped in Kirishima after it landed in you a minute before. Damn bottle. You walked inside the little closet, the big red haired guy right behind you.

"Don't you think we're a little grown up for playing this?" you commented when the doors closed.

"Yeah, I think they want to remember old times," he laughed.

He still had the most beautiful laugh you ever heard.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he said, "well, since you left the agency."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I just… I didn't want to get anyone in trouble."

"I wasn't manly at all. I should've step up, I should've said something," Kirishima's voice was barely a whisper.

"Hey, no, that's fine," you took his hand. "I needed a break anyways. And I wouldn’t ask you to use your position for me."

You both worked at an agency that didn't allowed relationships between coworkers. Having feelings for or having a relationship with a teammate meant a weakness; a weakness meant a way to extortion a hero and that could lead to losing lives. And a year after you joined the agency for Kirishima’s reference, someone submitted an anonymous report about you having a relationship with a teammate.

“I can’t believe the other person involved didn’t say anything either…” Eijiro knew it was his best friend. He read the report and it said y/n and Bakugo. Those were the perks of being the boss’ sidekick. He knew everything that was going on in the agency. Even when the woman he loved was dating his best friend.

“Who do you think the other person is?” you said. You never let go of his hand.

He was confused. Should he tell you that he read the report? He already felt guilty for not interfering when the boss told you that you or the other person had to go. Why did you choose to leave? Bakugo could find a new agency in a blink, but you weren’t that high in the hero ranking to do the same, even when your quirk was awesome. He was so pissed. How could it be that his friend didn’t step up for you? If there was something between you…

“It’s you, Eijiro. You’re the other person,” you interrupted his obvious internal crisis.

“What?” his voice was a little higher than he intended.

“I don’t know what the stupid report said. I don’t care either. I had to go or you would be in trouble,” a tear rolled down your cheek and you wiped it quickly.

He was speechless.

“And if I had to choose between succeeding in a mission or your life, I would’ve choose your life. And that’s not manly or heroic at all,” you laughed but it sounded bitter. “And I don’t want you to carry the weight of me choosing your life over others, you don’t deserve that,” you were crying now.

He hugged you. His strong arms locked around your waist firmly, you felt like it was the safer place in the world. He was glad he didn’t give up on his feelings, even after a few months, even when he believed you loved his best friend. It turned out that you loved him too.

“I didn’t know how to confess after the report. I thought that you already knew.”

“No, y/n, I didn’t and I’m so sorry, I should’ve tell you my feelings before you left,” he was whispering at your ear. “I love you so much, you’re amazing. You’re an amazing hero. Please don’t cry.” 

“I love you too,” you separated from him and wiped your last tears away.

He took your face between his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. He smiled when you blushed.

“Your face is the color of my hair right now,” he whispered, his voice sweeter than ever.

“Shut up or not even your quirk will save you from my punch,” you could see him following every movement your lips made when you threaten him. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

“If you ask me like that…” he licked his lips.

When he was about to touch your lips, the doors opened.

“Time’s up!” Kaminari smiled at you and winked his left eye when he saw Kirishima’s hands on your face.

Eijiro blushed and took your hand to get out of the closet. He guided you outside, to the backyard. You rested your back against a wall and he put his arms on each side of your head, you were stuck between his body and the cold wall. He slowly leaned in to you, until his lips finally met yours. He tasted like cherries. He felt the taste of the wine you were drinking with Yaomomo on your tongue, it was sweet and overwhelming. You sucked his lower lip and then separated his lips from yours.

“So… would you like to come to my place after this party?” you smiled.

“Ye-yeah, that’d be nice,” he kissed you again.

“I mean, we could go right now but that would be rude, and I’m hungry,” you laughed.

“Let’s go eat then,” he took your hand and you walked inside together.

Everyone was dancing and laughing but Kirishima and you had like your own little bubble through the night, and when the sun was rising you left together.

You wouldn’t be alone that night or the following ones.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, flynnifox!

For @flynnifox <3

Read On AO3

*****

Have a Cup of Christmas Cheer

Stiles had stopped counting all the times he had heard 'All I want for Christmas' today. It seemed like all the shops and all the streets and even the freaking Sheriff's station when he had gone to say hello to his dad at lunch time, all had the same freaking playlist going on loop and in all honesty Stiles was quite fed up with it. All of it.

He sighed, irritated and annoyed at the sound of some overused Christmas song and just kept standing in line in Reyes' Coffee Shop with a blank expression on his face.

He was dead on the inside. He hoped coming here was going to turn his day around. The barista, Erica, was one of his best friends in high school. It had been a few years, college and all that, but he still considered her a friend even if these days they only saw each other in the professional setting of her coffee shop, him being the client, and her serving him in daily doses of caffeine. She was wonderful enough to usually be able to brighten his day, even the worst of the worst when his boss at work had been a total pain in ass like he had been today.

There was just something about this time of year, Stiles wasn’t really sure Erica was going to have enough Wonder Woman power to make his life not seem bland and unappealing under the plastic mistletoe they had hung up just above the cash register.

She spotted him after a while and smiled one of her bright smiles. Her long curls of blond hair stuck out from under her Santa hat. Yeah because if the songs weren't enough to create the goddamn Christmas atmosphere they also had to add visuals to really be festive. She didn't seem to mind.

Stiles would really like to throw up.

Jackson freaking Whittemore, his actual real life nemesis from high school now turned into the CEO of the number one rival company from Stiles' job, bumped into him on his way out of the coffee shop.

Karma was a bitch like that.

Jackson snorted, “Seriously, Stilinski. I don't care what you do with your miserable life but could you cheer up a little ? You're killing the elves with your Grinch vibes.”

“You're killing the elves with your face.“ Stiles retorted.

It was not his best come back but he was a little out of it these days. He fidgeted and bit his lip out of annoyance.

“Wouldn't be surprised if you made the naughty list this year.” Jackson gave him a deprecating shrug.

Stiles was one hair away from just punching the smirk off his stupidly symmetrical face. He couldn’t do that though, not in Erica’s coffee shop. She didn’t deserve that, and he wasn’t rich enough to pay for any broken furniture, so instead he just said, “Fuck off.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and started whistling along 'Jingle Bells' on his way out.

Could Stiles’ day get any worse ?

It was not that Stiles hated Christmas. He didn't. He sort of liked it, accepted it at least. He didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Christmas was everywhere.

He could have gone on into details about how Christmas could never be what it used to be when he was little but there was no real use. He missed his mom, sure, but he missed more than that during this time of year. He missed... something he never really had. He missed not feeling so lonely.

He had his dad. He had Scott. Only, it wasn’t the same. Scott was married now, (wow way to make Stiles feel like an old bachelor at twenty five) so there wasn’t any Bro-Christmas anymore. And going to Scott’s house for Christmas was worse than being alone. Seeing the happy couple, the happy baby, the happy everything. Stiles could already feel the anxiety building up in his gut.

He was a great Uncle Stiles, but he didn’t have it in him right now. Not when he wanted it to be him. He had been ready for that, had been wanting that for even longer than Scott had. Stiles had been ready to find the love of his life when he was sixteen when Scott was still going from girlfriend to girlfriend until he finally found the one. Stiles… Well, things didn’t seem to be moving along as easily.

He couldn’t even blame it on his career because he was not that career oriented. He was still just in some stupid entry-level job at his office.

He didn’t care.

What Stiles wanted was to the happy husband with the happy baby in the happy household. Having enough money to make do was enough for him, he didn’t wish to live in a castle or drive a Porsche like his nemesis Whittemore. He wanted to stroll through the decorated streets with the intent of buying presents for people he loved, he wanted to dress up as Santa and eat some cookies and milk at midnight, he wanted the disastrous burned ham and the scrubbing of the ruined dishes before joining the love of his life in bed on Christmas night. He wanted the whole thing.

It was hard to settle for less.

He finally got to the counter and ordered his coffee. Black. No sugar.

“As dark as your soul,” Erica grinned as she wrote his name on a to-go cup.

Stiles grimaced what he hoped looked like a smile, which earned him a small laugh from Erica. She looked like a real Christmas angel when she laughed. Maybe he had been right to come here to cheer himself up a little after all.

His fake smile turned into a real one when Boyd, Erica's boyfriend, came out through the kitchen door. Strong tall dude with a red apron around his waist and sporting a Christmas hat : the perfect figure of manliness.

“Looking good, dude,” Stiles nodded in his direction.

“I know,” Boyd answered as confident as ever. Erica winked. Stiles’ tiny frozen heart melted.

Erica quickly shooed him away. The line had to keep moving. He would have liked to stay just a little longer but it was part of the business side of things to keep things going.

Now all he had left was to go back to his tiny lonely apartment and wait for the next few days to be over.

Stiles went to stand a little way off to the side to wait for his drink. He looked to the side, silently sending a prayer for Boyd to take his time preparing the drinks. He watched the bright garlands, let his eyes wander and follow their paths arching over the doors and on the walls. The red ornaments had been hung there with sticky tape, it wasn’t delicate by any means but it did the job.

He couldn’t  keep the deep sigh from escaping him. His love-hate relationship with Christmas was still going strong.

His eyes then landed on a guy just a few feet away. Stiles hadn't noticed him before. Then again he hadn't noticed much of anything except Jackson being his usual douche-bag self.

Now Stiles was actually looking. The guy seemed to be waiting for his drink too, fidgeting a little as he put his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He must have been in the line just in front of him. It really spoke volumes about his current state that Stiles hadn’t noticed a guy that hot. He usually noticed these things. Not that it usually amounted to anything because Stiles really wasn’t a one night stand kind of guy. Stiles was a romantic and most importantly what he craved was intimacy and comfort. He didn’t really care about dick.

Oh but that jawline was definitely cut by the angels. Falalalaa blessed be the lord.

Even with dick out of the question, Stiles’ eyes could only rejoice in the pleasing aesthetics this guy brought to the world.

“Derek ?” Boyd called out, putting a cup down on the counter, before quickly turning to prepare other drinks.

The guy, Stiles’ guy, stepped forward. Okay, Derek. Derek. Stiles almost tasted the name on his tongue. Yeah, he had to agree, Derek seemed to fit that hot guy perfectly.

He didn’t have the time to analyze anything more than that before Boyd came to put another cup on the counter and called, “Stiles !”

Stiles jumped a little at his name. That was fast. He quickly made his way back, ready to talk to Boyd for a couple of more minutes before it was actually absolutely mandatory for him to either leave or find a place to sit. He planned on leaving, he didn’t want to sit all alone in the busy coffee shop. He wasn’t a hipster trying to find a vibe, he just wanted a couple more minutes to hear Boyd tell him one of the stupid things Isaac, their employee, got up to or something. Anything.

Okay so Stiles was a little desperate. Just a little.

“Excuse me,” a voice said behind him.

Stiles turned around so fast, he almost heard his neck creak. Derek, the hottest guy Stiles had seen in a long time, was standing there, frowning down at his cup.

Why was he still standing there ? That was definitely not proper coffee shop etiquette. Someone should tell him because no matter how hot a guy was, he was supposed to be moving along when the drink was retrieved. That was how a coffee shop worked. Stiles was supposed to be the only one allowed to loiter, that was his friend privilege.

The guy frowned again, and it seemed directed at Stiles this time. He leaned in a little closer. Stiles swallowed audibly. Now was not the time to get flustered but it had been a while since anyone had come close into his personal space. What was this man doing all of a sudden?

“Excuse me,” Hot Guy Derek said again. “I think you have my drink.”

What ?

It was Stiles’ turn to frown now. (The frowning contest is on, mister!) He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, “What?”

Stiles barely had the time to take his cup but he definitely had time to notice Erica's cursive handwriting unmistakably spelling out his name in black sharpie. It was not every name that could be mistaken for ‘Stiles’. What was this dude on about ?

He threw a quick glance in Boyd’s direction only to find him gone. The bro code really wasn’t what it used to be.

“Stiles,” Hot Derek said.

Stiles' brain short-circuited a minute, only able to gape and stare at the wonderful scruff on that man's face. Stiles would very much enjoy hearing his name coming out of that mouth somewhere more private. Somewhere in between some sheets maybe, under a duvet, safe and warm on a Sunday morning.

“Stiles,” He said again.

Stiles shook his head and blinked a little to meet Derek's eyes. Oh wow. Those eyes. Yeah Stiles’ brain wasn’t back online yet. Later he would be able to express in a lot more words how beautiful these green eyes looked under the cozy coffee shop lighting.

Were the twinkles in there only the reflection of the Christmas lights?

The whole street was covered with the red and green lights. Their glow was flickering through the large wall of windows.

The town was floating in the Christmas spirit and if Stiles had to put a face on a feeling, he might want to choose this face right here.

Here was a reason to accept Christmas a little more.

Wait. Hot Derek's eyebrows twitched. They were clearly trying to tell him something. Stiles followed his line of sight down to the cup he was holding. Derek's cup... which also had a name written in that same handwriting in black sharpie, except that instead of Derek's name, it was Stiles' name written there.

It was all there from the capital S to the lower case s, as if it had been copy-pasted from his own cup, except that on this one the i of his name has been dotted with a heart instead.

“Huh ?” Stiles said intelligibly.

“You have my drink.”

“Huh.”

Derek probably thought Stiles was a moron. Maybe it was not too late to act like a foreign exchange student or a tourist. Excusez-moi no hablo English? No, even better, Stiles was almost ready to unearth his fake polish accent even if he hadn’t spoken a word of that language since the last time he went to visit his Babcia with his mom and dad when he was eight.

“You ordered a black coffee.” Derek said simply. To prove his point, he slowly uncapped his cup to show the wonderfully black liquid inside. Dark roast, Stiles’ favorite. “You want me to guess what’s in your cup or is that enough proof?”

“Listen dude!” Stiles started a little too loud.

Stupidly, Stiles was ready to start a fight. He was fed up with everything today : work, stupid Jackson, stupid Christmas, stupid coffee shop messing up orders for no reason. He didn’t need an attractive guy getting in his face now because of some coffee ordeal. He just wanted to go home and wallow in his misery. It was a thing people did ; going home just to be free to be miserable without having the world there to look at them. In this case, Stiles was people.

Stiles just really wanted to be left alone.... or to be hugged or something.

So yes, he had spoken a little too loud, making some heads turn to look at them. He didn’t really want to cause a scene. It was a reflex more than anything. It was such a reflex that he hadn’t come up with the rest of the sentence.

He cleared his throat to find some composure. “I’m sure this is just a mistake.”

Way to state what seemed obvious.

Though… Now that he thought about it, Stiles knew this wasn't a mistake. He quickly glared in Erica’s direction. She was way too careful with her business to make a mistake like that. Plus the little heart on the i was definitely giving her away. She never put hearts on his cup.

His eyes met Boyd’s for a second and the playful glint in his eyes was enough to confirm Stiles’ doubts. Fuckers. Both of them.

Stiles just hadn’t been miserable enough that they had to come and mess with him on this goddawful day.

“Oh god, I hate them. I’m so sorry.” Stiles let his head fall. “They think they’re hilarious. It’s just, yeah, they’re sort of my friends, though clearly they shouldn’t ever have earned that title. I should only have nice friends. I should only have all the nice things. I don’t deserve this? All of today. I don’t deserve that. And they know I don’t like Christmas time! They’re just… ugh.”

He hit his forehead with his fist, wishing so badly he could just transport himself some place else. Stiles hated everything right now. Erica and Boyd had had to go find the hottest guy in town and pull a prank? And they called themselves friends? What a travesty.

“Why would it be funny?” Derek’s eyes weren’t leaving Stiles a second.

It was almost uncomfortable. Hot guys rarely paid attention to him so Stiles lacked the proper defense mechanisms to help him cope with what was happening right now. Without thinking he brought what he believed to be his cup to his lips and gulped down a disgustingly sweet mouthful of what he guessed to be a white chocolate drink. The sugary feeling stuck all the way down his throat. It was so bad, he choked.

Heads turn in their direction again because Stiles was nothing but a discreet guy. God, could he please just disappear instead of making a fool out of himself?

Derek’s hand was on his arm, holding him upright, brushing down to his elbow almost like a caress. Stiles was definitely imagining the look of concern on the other man’s face. There was no way this was happening right now.

“Here!” Stiles all but shoved the burning hot cup of white chocolate in Derek’s chest. “That’s definitely yours.”

Derek let go of his arm, his fingers brushing against Stiles’ as he moved to catch the cup Stiles was handing to him.

Every touch felt like burning, Stiles was that touch-starved. Sure he shook hands with his colleagues at work but that was not the same. Shaking hands with people he barely tolerated definitely didn’t bring out any Jane Austen type of vibes in his heart. Here though, he could very well be named Elizabeth Bennett, he wouldn’t be the wiser.

Derek almost smiled, just a tiny smug curl on the corner of his lips. Stiles’ eyes widened as he realized that he basically had drunk in this stranger’s cup just before giving it back. That was definitely not proper coffee shop etiquette. Germs and all that.

Stiles was a disgusting twenty-something spreading his disgusting saliva all over the place, and by all over the place Stiles meant this thirty-something God of beauty.

There was just a tiny hint of grey, salt and pepper in the scruff. So incredibly endearing for some reason. He never really knew he had a type until today but he might just have had his revelation moment. Or maybe someone like Derek was just so beautiful that he would be anyone’s type. What are the chances that a guy like that would be gay or bi or pan or any of the sexualities that would give Stiles the slightest most tiniest chance? Zero, null, void of any chance that was what it was. Either that or he was married or a Jackson Whittemore type of douche bag.

Though he didn’t feel like a douche bag.

He felt sort of soft. He felt like someone who would accept to be the big spoon.

Stiles was about to reach for the cup again but was stopped short by Derek who pointedly stared at him straight in the eyes as he slowly brought the white chocolate to his mouth, took a sip and let out a small moan of satisfaction before licking his lips. Slowly, oh so slowly.

What the hell was going on here? Stiles frowned at him, mouth half open. It felt like the whole universe was out to get him. This shouldn’t be as sexy as it was.

Hot Derek looked up at him, smirking. He knew what he was doing. He knew.. He knew he was hella attractive, he knew how to use it. This was terrible. So so terrible. If germs had to be exchanged, why not a full on make-out in the back alley under the twinkling lights? Stiles could be down for that.

But all of this was just a joke, a prank. This wasn’t just a random guy meeting him a random way. This was a prank pulled by people he hadn’t seen outside of this coffee shop for years. He called them his friends but, really, maybe they were just acquaintances. He didn’t even know what Erica and Boyd got up to outside of the small walls of this coffee shop. For all he knew, Derek could be one of their friends, in on the joke, here to make Stiles miserable, really turn him into a Grinch for real.

“Can I get you a, uh, drink?” Derek asked. Stiles hadn’t expected that to be what came out of Derek’s mouth.

“I already have a drink,” Stiles narrowed his eyes and pointed at the hearted-Stiles cup.

“Right. Of course. There you go,” Derek handed him the cup.

Stiles took it, pulled it closer to his chest as, cradling it as if to bring comfort to the cup or to himself. He was not really sure. He didn’t seem to know much of anything right now. The only thing he knew was that Derek was not moving. He was not going away. He only stood there, looking at Stiles for some reason.

“Are you here with someone?” Derek asked now, taking another ostentatious sip of that Stiles-germ-filled drink.

What was Stiles supposed to say, did it look like he was here with someone? Would he be standing there with a hot stranger if he had anywhere else to be?

Yeah probably.

That guy was built like a Greek God, chiseled and beautiful. And he also smelled good, Stiles could tell. He didn’t know what brand of cologne it was or maybe it was just the pheromones in the air, but Stiles was swooning just a little bit. Not drooling, definitely not drooling.

The good question was why Stiles wasn’t leaving. He had his drink in hand, the deal was done. The cups had been exchanged. Stiles should go and save himself. He probably enjoyed being ridiculed. That was the masochistic low-self-esteem acting up again.

More importantly, why did the thought of leaving make him feel so weird inside? It felt like a little Christmas elf was in his chest using his heart as a punching bag.

Derek’s face did another of its twitches. Dude, this guy knew how to use his face to communicate like you wouldn’t believe. It was a little terrifying. Stiles got the message loud and clear that he had been silent a lot longer than politely acceptable.

That was a rare occurrence. Stiles was a talker. Everybody complained about it, he talked talked talked. Not always about the things that mattered though. That was one of his problems, wanting to keep face in all circumstances, not wanting to be a burden. That was why he never told Scott about feeling lonely. So he talked, he talked about Star Wars and he talked about the Mets or anything, talked about Lacrosse if he wanted to have the chance to have a two way conversation instead of just a monologue.

“No, I’m singl- alone ! I’m here alone.”

Stiles scrunched up his nose. That sounded bad. So. His anxiety was going to make him think about this for days and he might even wake up in the middle of the night four years from now thinking about how bad this had been. Smooth Stilinski, so smooth.

The soft cling of dishes being deposited on the counter pulled Stiles out of his never ending inner monologue. Derek turned around too,his eyes finally letting go of their hold on Stiles’ soul.

Saved by the bell as one would like to believe, except that when Stiles looked up he found Erica standing there behind the counter with some sort of wolffish grin on her face. It was more terrifying than being faced with an actual predator.

“On the house, boys. Enjoy!” She announced, her tone ringing like wind chimes.

Stiles glared. Her cheerfulness sounded just a little too forced under the circumstances.

He wanted to strangle her. She was only saved by the fact that there was a counter between them and about twenty people there to witness it. All he could do was glare, curse her with his mind, make it very obvious that he was not happy with her right now.

Still, Stiles was about to tell her off when Derek grinned and stepped forward to grab the two small plates of red velvet cheesecake with one hand.

Oh no, now Stiles was thinking about Derek’s hands.

“Thank you,” Derek said softly.

Derek seemed to accept what was happening without any trouble. What was up with that? Stiles still felt like he was living one hallucinatory scene in a movie or maybe one of these hidden camera gags. He was still ready to bolt, to dash out of there and leave them all to never return. This was a betrayal of the highest order. Reyes’ Coffee Shop was supposed to be a safe space. It was supposed to feel like home. Yes a home with stupid Jackson Whittemore as a guest sometimes but a home nonetheless.

“Your friends really are pushing this,” Derek huffed out, sounding amused. “If I had any criticism, I’d say she could have cut the cheesecake in the shape of a heart and given only one piece with two forks. This is really amateur work.”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. It came out a little hysterical, a little loud. Again. His nervousness always had the best of him. He was a mess, and now he was obviously blushing. The hot flush moved on his cheeks and ran down his neck. When Derek smiled, Stiles stopped breathing entirely. The smile didn’t feel mocking. Surprisingly.

“Dude, it’s not too late, you can still put that in the suggestion jar!” Stiles said, pointing to a piggy bank next to the cash register.

Derek frowned, “Isn’t that for tips?”

Stiles only shrugged. That would be a sweet revenge. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go sit.” Derek offered, before looking down and adding, “Unless you don’t want to?”

It came out as a question. Shy. Stiles could laugh again because this amazingly beautiful man in front of him was acting insecure as if Stiles had the upper hand here.

Derek’s ears were turning bright red. The color fit perfectly with the theme of the season. And again Stiles thought about Christmas. It would be such a shame if anyone was ever to reject such a heartwarming Christmas spirit.

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat or two at the sight of Derek who was now looking up at him.

“It’s my birthday today,” Derek confessed.

“It’s your what?” Stiles exclaimed.

“My birthday.”

“Yeah I heard you the first time, but, man, I don’t understand why you would tell me these things?” Stiles was almost getting angry now. “Because if it’s your birthday… it’s even more terrible! First it means you’re a Christmas baby which means you might hate Christmas even more than I do. Or love it wholeheartedly. I don’t know which is worse. But also if it’s your birthday and you’re here by yourself and my friends decided it would be fun to pull this stupid plan to get you to what? Meet me? Because oh my god, that’s some bad karma. I thought my karma was a bitch but dude , yours might be even worse! Imagine karma doing that to someone on their birthday… Jesus fucking Christ.”

When Stiles finally stopped his grand overly dramatic speech, he found Derek only looking at him, soft crinkles on the corners of his eyes.

“Is that it? Are you done?” Derek asked.

“Yes. You gotta admit I’m right though, but yes, I am done.”

“Are you always this stubborn?” Derek shook his head slowly. “The question is only rhetorical.”

Stiles snorted. He crossed his arms in a way he hoped to be manly. It failed as he had to be mindful of his coffee cup (the one Derek had uncapped but hadn’t bothered putting the lid back on earlier because apparently Hot Derek didn’t care about hot liquid hazard).

“Let’s make this easier on both of us.” Derek huffed out. “You’re single. I am too. It’s Christmas Eve, it’s my birthday, and I spent all day working. You’re cute,” he stopped a second to smile at Stiles’ shocked face. “You’re also ridiculous, but in a good way. Your friends are meddlers-”

“The worst kind of meddling meddlers.” Stiles had to agree.

“Who clearly care about you enough to pull something like this. That has to mean you are at least a decent enough person.”

“I’m a great person!” Stiles felt the need to correct. Look at him finding some sense of self worth when needed!

“Well, I’d like to be the judge of that.” Derek smiled. “If you’d let me.”

“What?” Stiles’ brain might be short circuiting again.

“Say yes, Stiles!” Boys shouted from where he was standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fucking Hell Stiles!” Erica added.

Derek was full on grinning now. The dude thought all of this was wonderful. This whole mess of life Stiles had, it didn’t seem to scare him or push him away.

“Let’s go sit and enjoy some cheesecake.” Derek didn’t wait for Stiles to agree and just led the way to an empty table close to the window.

The lights twinkle again, illuminating the small wooden table as Derek unceremoniously dropped the small plates of cheesecake on the tabletop.

Stiles reached for him before Derek sat down.

“You say that like it’s easy but you say 'cheesecake' and I hear a lot more than that.” Stiles admitted.

He was a little breathless. That mean elf in his chest had taken to squeezing his lungs now, stomping on his heart too.

“If the cheesecake is good, that might mean a date or two.” Derek was acting casual about this.

“Again. You’re doing it again . Because when you say-“

Derek cut him short, leaning in to kiss him, swallowing down soundless words.

“I think you heard me just right.” Derek smiled again. “Tomorrow is Christmas and I’m driving back to my hometown to be with my family. I’m going to assume you’re not up for that yet. My sisters, huh, they’re a lot to handle. But tonight… Tonight, I’m all yours.”

Stiles let out a small surprised breath. His heart was growing so big all at once, all the air was being pushed out. Derek knew what he was doing. Derek fucking knew. There was so much implication in what he was saying and yeah sure Stiles definitely didn’t feel up for an official meeting with the family tomorrow (what the hell?) but who knew? Maybe next year?

“Wait, I just need to-“ Derek said before leaning in once more, raising Stiles’ chin an inch to angle him just right to capture his lips again.

This time Stiles felt more prepared, he didn’t just take it, he kissed back. They were keeping it chaste, it was a first kiss. They were still in the middle of the coffee shop. But Stiles couldn’t help it, he had to taste more. He ran his tongue softly on the underside of Derek’s upper lip. Stiles needed just a little more time and a little less audience to dare slip his tongue inside and -

“Yeah,” Derek breathed out, pulling away. He nodded, seemingly satisfied by the result of what he had 'needed to'.

“You don’t know what you’re signing up for. I’m no piece of cake.” Stiles needed to warn him.

“Can’t wait to find out.” Derek said before turning serious. “If this is the fine prints of some imaginary contract we’re signing, I probably have to disclose that I'm not perfect either.”

“I’m loving your business talk so much.” Stiles snorted.

“You say business but I hear a lot more than that.” Derek’s tone was serious but his face absolutely gave away how proud of himself he was.

“Shut up,” Stiles couldn’t help but smile. His grin was so wide it actually hurt his cheeks.

“Do you actually want to eat that cheesecake or should we get out of here?” Derek asked, his wonderfully endearing blush back in full force.

‘All I Want For Christmas’ was coming back on the radio and Stiles could actually laugh now. He still couldn't believe any of it was really happening.

“Race you to the door!” He grinned before starting off like a lunatic.

He could hear Derek follow him quickly but bumping into someone and apologizing before reaching Stiles again, his hand finding Stiles’ lower back as they tried to both squeeze in the entryway.

“Get it Stiles!” Stiles heard Erica shout out as they were about to open the coffee shop front door to head out. “Get it.”

“Bowchickabowwow!” Boyd sing-songed, slapping Erica’s ass with a dish towel.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Stiles sent them the middle finger. They were going to hear him next time he comes in. He was not going to let them live it down. They probably won’t either, especially if their stupid prank actually worked. Stiles was probably not going to survive this.

Erica laughed. She knew she'd won.

“It’s not Valentine’s so I can’t be cupid but who says I’m not up for saving Christmas?! Thank me later!” She called after him.

Stiles wanted to retort, but Derek’s hand just found his, their fingers intertwined.

And yeah, this right here, this was a true Christmas miracle.

[rogerstoast]

Don’t Get Caught//four/billy!ben hardy x female reader

Prompt List!!!

Based on prompt #23 “It wasn’t me!” “He/she did it!” “No, you did it!” “Stop saying everything I say!” “Fine!” “Fine!” “You know what, fuck you!” “Gladly.” “What?” (Yeah I get it, it’s a long one. Deal with it.”

Summary: You’re the new recruit, 8. (reader and four basically have the same position on the team). It’s been about three months since you joined, you and four have had a thing for about a month and try to keep it on the down low, until you get caught.

Warnings: mentions of smut, flirting, a bit of fluff

(psa: the keep on reading thing isn’t working, sorry it’s long)

——————————————————————

Today was just like any other mission you’ve been on. You know, secretly racing atop of buildings in plain sight, shooting a few bad guys occasionally, screaming at each other over the ear peice about where to eat dinner later, a few sarcastic, and sometimes flirtatious remarks from Four.

Here’s the thing. The two of you have always had this sort of playful, sarcastic flirty relationship. But ever since the one night you two drunkenly made out, he takes any chance he can to touch you or kiss you or get to you in any way possible. He seemed to be the only person that was able to get the best of you, and completely break through this intimidating persona you give off to everyone you meet. Not going to lie, he feels that same way with you. That feeling like you are the only person to show his soft side, a side to him he tries not to show. You know, to seem tough and all manly like the sexy man he is.

“Eight! A we need you on the down low!”

As you ran from building to building, closer to the cathedral, One spoke over the intercom, again, “Hey Eight, did you hear that? We’re kind of dying down here. So if you don’t mind, I don’t know, getting your ass down here to save ours, that would be great!@

You stopped on the nearest roof, seeing One, Two, and Three fighting off all the bad guys. They didn’t seem to be having trouble. Two was nearly finished, fighting anyoje in her way and shooting two guys with one bullet. Impressive. Three was doing the same, looks like One was the only person down there having some trouble. Typical.

“You know One, if you just needed help kicking the smaller guys asses off of yours, you could have just asked,” you joke back, shooting a rope gun to the building across, and swinging down into action.

A bad guy then quickly flipped One down on the ground, pinning him down with his arm over his throat.

“Ahh ha ha, very funny” his strained voice managed to get out as he was slowly being choked. You ran over and kicked the guy who was on top of him, jumping up to wrap your legs around his neck and flip him over on his back. He slammed into the ground with a hard cough.

You then grabbed his arms securely as you squeezed your legs hard enough until he fell unconscious. Getting up, you heard Two shoot him, just to be safe, and you did the same with the other two guys that One couldn’t fight off. You then jumped up, a bit out of breath, then gave everyone a quick wave goodbye to continue chasing the guy you were supposed to catch earlier.

Now that you were back running across the roofs of buildings, you heard a bit of chuckling in your ear, “Damn One did you really just need a girl to save your ass again?” Four asked. This time everyone laughed, except One.

“Oh I’m sorry, did my lack of strength distract you?!? Get back to work, ALL of you....and yes Four, yes I did. Which means *throws punch at bad guy, mini fist bump in the air as he knocks him down* you will be buying dinner for us all tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at the children you worked with, “Alright boys, thats enough. We’re almost done. Four, I’m coming up soon with a runner on our hands, where are you?” You asked, signaling to the guy you were chasing and struggling to catch.

Four was still laughing a bit at the disagreement, but nonetheless calmed down to answer you. “I’m literally right here Eight. Right in front of you.” He replied back.

You were still running, keeping an eye on the guy one building ahead, running away from you.

“Four this isn’t funny, seriously where ar—,” and all of a sudden, the guy was shot right in front of you and fell right off the closest roof.

You froze in your tracks and look up to see Four across from you on the cathedral with a gun in his hand.

“I’m here!” He confirmed.

You held in a smirk and ran over to reach him. Once you reached it, he jumped down from the railing to face you, also with a stupid little shit looking smirk on his face

“Hey! You shot my guy!” You say, taking a step closer, trying to hold in your tough demeanor, even though you were totally fine with what he did.

“You clearly weren’t going to anytime soon,” he protested back, stepping even closer.

“I totally had him if you would have just waited a second longer,” you say, poking his chest and staring right up into his eyes, the tension growing.

He then took a step even closer now, both of your faces inches apart, tenion so thick you could cut it with a knife. His hand came up to press a button on both of your ear pieces, so he could mute your ends from the others. Didn’t want them to listen in.

“After all this time I figured you would have realized that I don’t like waiting,” Four said.

He bites his lip, looking down at yours for a second only to lock his eyes back on yours, not wanting to break the flirty, saracastic tension.

“Hmm I guess I haven’t. Care to show me how?” You said all flirtatiously smirking up at him with that seductive look in your eyes.

Within an instant, Four pushes his lips onto yours with a slow, deep, passionate kiss. His one hand comes up to cup your jaw, brining you closer while his other arm tightly wraps around your waist, fully pushing your bodies together. You began to deepen the kiss, about to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close, but broke the kiss tilting your head back as you remembered something.

“What? What is it?! Shit! Is it my breath?” He asked all panicked.

“No no no! Four, we can’t get caught. They’ll see us.” You laughed in response.

“Oh thank god,” Four sighed in relief, “You know I had a sandwich just before wit—“.

You pressed your lips against his in a quick kiss to stop his bickering.

“That’s great Four, it really is.” You chuckled against his lips and he smirked against yours. “Can we maybe move this, in there?” You nodded your head back, signaling to stand under the roof of the building, so that way you were more hidden.

“Are you always so controlling?” He teased.

“Would you shut up”. You reply, smirking in return.

He kissed you again, this time a bit softer but still deep. Both of his hands snacked down to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze signaling for you to jump up. As you did, he nearly raced the two of you under the roof, In a more secluded section of the holy structure.

You tightly wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his hips further into you. You could feel him getting hard already. He deepened the kiss, and swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Opening your mouth, you let his tongue dominate yours and explore your mouth. The two of your lips were moving in sync, while your hands tangled themselves in his hair, and his roamed all up and down your body. This man was never able to get enough of you.

Four started to move down your neck, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses everywhere. Bitting and sucking right beneath your ear. This really got you going. His member was growing harder and you could feel it, and the tension between your legs was in desperate need of friction. As he continued to suck on you neck, you let out a slight moan of pleasure, which made him even hungrier.

Little did either of you know that the team had finished up, and was about to be coming up the stairs from behind you. Four had you literally sandwiched between the wall and his body while you sucked each other’s faces off. Oh boy, this steamy situation was not about to go down well no sir!

You wanted to make him also feel good, and slid one of your hands down right over his bludge as you—

“Alright! Which one of you little shits turned off your ear—“

Four put you down quickly at the sound of One coming up, and leaped to the other side of the room within a second as he turned to fix his situation. You quickly brushed over your body suit, making sure everything was in place, before you turned around with the fakest smile you could muster.

One froze once he reached the top step, “Well well well, what the fuck his happening up here?”

Three was at the very bottom and yelled up “What happened papi? Did she strip?”

“What?!” Everyone asked in unison.

“Three— I —no. Who turned off your ends? Communication is kind of important.”

Four turned around to quickly come to your side. You thought he would help save your ass in this situation, but nope. He still had to mess with you to get you in trouble.

“It wasn’t me!” He raised his hand, as One directed his focus to you.

You gasped in shock. “He did it!”

“She did!” Four now also turned to you.

“No, you did!” He said with you at the same time. You could tell he was doing this on purpose to annoy you, and it was working.

“Stop it!” Same time again.

“Stop saying everything I say!” And again.

One jumped in. “For the love of god will you two cut it out!”

“Fine!” You crossed your arms, still locking angered eyes up at Four.

“Fine!” He agreed back. Smirking down at you.

“Just turn your fucking intercoms back on so we can leave already. We are all fucking hungry, let go.” One suggests, as everyone turns around to walk back down the staires.

You and Four waited for a second, and were the last ones to follow the team down.

“You know what? Fuck you.” You pointed to him about to walk down as he followed behind you.

“Gladly.”

You froze on the first step and turned around.

“What?” You asked, seeing the smirk on his face.

He smiled and laughed, “just go follow them, we’ll worry about plans after dinner in a bit.”

———————————

Please send requests!

[snow--blanket]

good morning kisses

pairing: isaac/napoleon fandom: ikemen vampire word count: 2405 ***

“God’s breath—”

“I don’t—” Napoleon ‘the terror of France’ Bonaparte started, but cut his sentence short. “How?”

“I don’t…. know. Sodium bicarbonate was supposed to—um, make the…” Isaac struggled to word it in a way Napoleon could understand. When faced with panic and distress, his brain immediately resorted to scientific lingo like a liar did with high pitched intonations. “The black thing float.”

“I was out for an hour—”

“I know, I’m sorry—”

Napoleon walked to the fridge and tapped the sign kissed to it, as if asking for an explanation. It read: NO SCIENCE EXPERIMENTS IN THE KITCHEN.  He tapped the sign, once, twice, three times, all with increasing tempo, until the paper slid off the magnet and fell to the floor, much like Isaac’s heart did. He hated disappointing Napoleon. “What happened to our friends with benefits contract?”

Benefit was a loose term used in between them—namely, Isaac would help him with his calculus homework (trig too, if Napoleon was particularly loathsome that day) and Napoleon would help Isaac to not get bullied by Arthur and Dazai. It worked, but he really should talk to Napoleon about toning down his manly hero voice when he came to his rescue. He felt too much like a damsel in distress then. Isaac did not have a lot of pride, but he did have some of it, and he would like to keep that portion for future use, like when he corrects the barista’s spelling of his name. But he had made more trouble than benefit to Napoleon, and his face flushed as he berated himself. “I’m sorry,” Isaac said in a panic. He would play his trump card, what he called the Coward’s Calling: just beg for forgiveness until Napoleon got irritated and shoved it under the rug. It had a limited use though. If he were to use it now, he couldn’t use it for the next two or so weeks as it had a cooldown period and he needed time to gather his pride again so he could throw it away and grovel for mercy. 

“You already said that.” Drat. Napoleon often let it pass, but he supposed today’s… grievances were too big to let it slide. They both looked at the foaming pot of yesterday’s burnt curry. In Napoleon’s words, Isaac was to clean up his own mess, and he had to clean out the pot with the charred bottom without scratching it silly. You’re a genius, Napoleon told him. Figure it out.

Contrary to his expectations, Napoleon broke out in a laugh. Isaac hated it when people laughed at him—Leo’s was a condescending, older brother laugh, and he hated that. He was not a child. Arthur and Dazai’s were teasing, and he hated that too. They weren’t close friends. Strangely, his flaming cheeks were not caused by anger at Napoleon’s laughter, but rather embarrassment, for he knew that Napoleon always laughed at him like he was an idiot. Isaac truly felt like he should retreat into the cupboards as Harry did. “Are you done laughing yet?” 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just…” Napoleon wiped a tear from his eye. “Y’know, this is why people with theoretical physics degrees still don’t have jobs. You’ve used up so much of your brain thinking about—black holes, or something—”

“The fabric of time and space,” Isaac mumbled.

“—That, yes! Proved my point! You’ve used up so much of your faculties thinking about whatever that is that you don’t know that Arthur probably mixed in citric acid into your baking powder solution to…” Napoleon gestured to the foaming pot, and it looked like a witch’s cauldron. “...cause this. This is a textbook prank, ma cher.”

He might not hate Napoleon, but he sure hated the way that epithet rolled off his tongue. It made his chest feel scratchy, for some reason. “You’ll see,” he said instead. “When this physicist figures out how to make planets habitable, I’ll give you the opportunity to eat gourmet space dust when I leave this place.” Like he said, he didn’t have a lot of pride, but he did have some of it, and he wouldn’t let Napoleon drag the name of science through the mud. Physicists weren’t largely responsible for making a planet habitable, but he hoped Napoleon wouldn’t catch on. Isaac wasn’t very good at this comeback thing. Arthur and Dazai forced him to use his wits for driving them away instead of focusing on lectures. And he couldn’t even do it well!

“Ha! I’d love to taste it.” Ugh, he hated the way Napoleon smiled when he said that, too. The itch on his chest doubled. Now he had to figure out a way to phrase the symptoms to Arthur and let himself play patient for a while. The last time he went to Arthur for a consultation, he couldn’t forget the face he made when he said “it feels like my whole skin is being flipped inside out”. Even a savant doctor can’t figure out what’s wrong with you if you don’t know how to express it.

“Step aside, genius.” Napoleon bumped Isaac out of the way with his hip, looking much like a mother who had her work cut out for her. 

“Don’t come crying when calc comes up in class,” Isaac said bitterly, and then tested the word on his tongue. “...Jock.”

Napoleon chuckled at that, and then shooed Isaac away. He felt embarrassed that he wasn’t able to clean up such a simple mess, but being called a genius—even if it was said mockingly—made his chest inflate in pride. At the very least, he would be of use when it came to academia.

***

It was raining—storming, even. Isaac’s bleary gaze wandered to the glaring neon numbers on the alarm clock. 5:34 AM. Maybe Vincent would be up at this time. He got up from his bed, rubbed his eyes awake, and walked to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. He vaguely recalled Vincent saying he wanted to paint the sunrise, and knowing the kind of person he was, he was probably staying up until sunrise. Unlike his reputation as a “bad boy”, Theo was the earliest to sleep in, and earliest to wake. He could use more hours, but he liked to spend the early mornings to make pancakes for Vincent, especially if he was feeling anxious the night prior. 

As Isaac passed Napoleon’s door, he stopped, clasping his hands together in a prayer. May whoever who wakes him up be blessed with questions with graphs in their exam. Then he remembered Arthur, and he changed his prayer. May whoever wakes him up gets his face punched. It doesn’t even have to be by Napoleon. Anyone will do. After that, he wished some more, hoping that he was his British counterpart, and that all his coffee was third-grade and cold. When he finished praying, he headed to the communal kitchen, where he found Arthur fiddling with an empty tin of coffee. They were fresh out, it seemed. Isaac held the physical and psychological urge to fist pump the air. “Finished?” he asked, even though he knew they were, indeed, no more. God was by his side.

Arthur rattled the coffee tin, offended. The smart, clever, golden-tongued part-time mystery author and full-time medicine major was reduced to a witless man when he was caffeine deprived. It felt like the sun had died to let the moon breathe a little, except the sun was Arthur’s dreadful tongue, and Isaac wished it was eternal night. There was something that bothered him, though. “Working on a new manuscript?”

“Not today, though, shame.”

Isaac hummed, moving past Arthur to reach for the powdered chocolate malt stashed in the cabinet. “I actually read some of your novels, you know. They’re not bad.”

Arthur cocked a brow at this, leaning on one side of his body as if he was a seesaw. “Oh?”

Isaac did not have a lot of pride, but he wouldn’t lie. “Yeah. I can see why you’d want to be a doctor.” Hm. Vincent wants it with milk, if I remember correctly...

“Pray tell,” There was a Cheshire grin playing on his lips, and try as he might, he couldn’t truly wish for Napoleon to kiss those lips of him to shut him up. The thought made him feel itchy again. 

“The line of reasoning you use to explain things for your mystery novels,” he started, putting in three spoonfuls of the chocolatey goodness into the mug. Vincent’s had some dabs of yellow and blue paint on them, so it was hard to mix them up. “They’re a bit similar in how you would diagnose a patient. You take a glance at them, try to infer their history and habits, and then you would investigate further for a diagnosis. I think it’s quite…” Isaac hesitated—not because Arthur was undeserving, but it was the first time he recalled ever talking to him in this manner. “...Brilliant. You are, that is,” Isaac finished, pouring some hot water into Vincent’s mug as he stirred it. Saucer, saucer...

Was it the trick of the light? As Isaac reached for the saucers behind Arthur, he swore it  looked as if he was blushing, the light dusting of embers on his cheeks as if the light above them both were a fire. Isaac took a sip of his own mug of chocolate, peering at Arthur all the while. He breathed in, steeled himself. “As I am a scientist, allow me to hypothesize, instead of deduct.”

His flustered British counterpart seemed all too accepting of the offer. Strange. It wasn’t normal for Isaac to be the one in this position. Isaac stifled a sigh. How he wished the night would last indeed… “You usually stay up late writing for your books, but I haven’t heard you write anything for the past week when I walked by your room.”

When Arthur was silent, Isaac continued. “You only use about two spoonfuls of coffee beans when you make coffee, but even factoring the fact that Theodorus and Mozart drink coffee, the amount seems to be decreasing exponentially, instead of it’s usual rate.”

Isaac eyed the ticking clock on the wall. 5:40 AM. It was nearly sunrise, and he was sure Vincent was painting without a care in the world. “Thirdly, your clothes smell like paint sometimes.” This final proof put the fire in Arthur’s face again. Isaac offered his hand that held Vincent’s mug and saucer. “It’s almost sunrise. Go bring this to him.” 

Arthur took the mug and saucer with a dumbfounded look, and Isaac savored that look for a while, knowing it was as rare as a blue moon. Feeling awkward, Isaac took his mug of hot chocolate, and walked away. He stopped at the entrance of the kitchen and glanced at the witless, silent mystery writer. Take that. Maybe he was good at this comeback thing after all. “Well… just pretend you didn’t see me, I guess.” He wasn’t good at lying, so feigning ignorance was the best he could do. 

When he turned, Arthur’s voice stopped him. “I have a deduction.”

Isaac turned his heel, looking at Arthur, and took a sip of his hot chocolate. It had gotten slightly cold. “Yeah?”

“You’re in love with Napoleon.”

“Wha—” He choked, searching for the right words. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? He didn’t even allow him the slightest shred of decency or subtlety! After he was so gracious in merely insinuating his crush towards Vincent! “You—”

Arthur grinned his cocksure smile, and Isaac truly wished Theodorus was here to punch him in the face. This blathering, insensitive, witless, shameless, atrocious man! “Your face tells it all. You should never become a detective.”

“I don’t—” Isaac said, and then sighed when Arthur kept a level stare, his blue eyes like discerning glass looking through him. Isaac put down the mug of hot chocolate on the counter and then sank his face into his hands in embarrassment, bracing himself for the teasing laugh from Arthur. He hated that. “Was it that obvious?”

As if to apologise for his sudden declaration (which may or may not be truth), Arthur hummed, taking his time. “Not really. It shows on your face, though.” He put down Vincent’s mug, leaning his elbow on the counter.

He lowered his hands—eyes still averted from Arthur’s gaze, and chuckled bitterly. “What? Do I look like I’m researching him or something?” That was usually the case with whatever held his interest, whether it be astrology, chemical compounds, physics problems that seemed impossible at  first, and then revealed themselves to him, like a magician that made a one second mistake in the sleight of his hand, and Isaac began to understand. He wasn’t that self-aware of his own expressions, only the things he’s said. And he’s positively sure he’s never spoken of Napoleon in an intimate manner, much less romantic.

“No, not at all. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

Isaac scrunched his brows. “The opposite of love is hatred.” 

Arthur laughed, and Isaac just tried to be patient with that. “Not at all, chap. I’m saying—when you’re with him, you don’t try to… dissect him, and whatnot. Your love for him makes you human. There’s no glaze in your eyes when you understand something, no foaming at the mouth when you don’t. You’re just…” Arthur stretched his arms wide. “Here. With us, on the ground.” The mystical way Arthur said it made it sound like the kitchen was the entirety of the world. It might as well could’ve been. Arthur was quiet, and his gaze returned to Vincent’s paint blotched mug. “He makes you feel alive, doesn’t he? Like you’re here.”

Isaac stared into the small waves the water made when he nudged his own mug. “Yeah. Yeah, he does.”

“Then that’s that,” Arthur said, grabbing Vincent’s mug as he patted Isaac on the shoulder. For once in his life, Isaac didn’t shudder when Arthur winked at him. “Good luck,” he said, and left the kitchen. Probably to Vincent’s room. 

Isaac sighed. Right then. If Arthur could do it, then he could at least try. He brought the cup of hot chocolate with him and knocked at Napoleon’s door, knowing full well that he would be asleep, and that he would try to kiss him again.

His chest itched, but he didn’t bother to question it this time.

[weirdponytail]

Eragon: Book vs Movie. Set & Scene 1

SCENE 1, SET

Brom flipped through the thick packet, one leg crossed over the other. He was sitting in a folding actors chair, a troubled expression on his face.

“Wait, so you just want me to read this?” The old man turned to the Shadow behind him. “Just, read this out loud while things happen around me?”

“Correct.”

Brom sighed. “Alright then,” he opened his mouth to begin but then closed it. One of the other lines had caught his attention. “Oh dear. She isn’t going to like that. Um, might I suggest-”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” Out of nowhere, a burlap skirt came flying at high speed to promptly smack the Shadow right in region it’s face should have been. Brom sighed again and covered his face with his hands. “AND YOU CAN KEEP THIS SHIT, TOO! WHAT ARE THESE, MOULDED LEATHER TITS?!” A hard leather…shirt…thing…followed the skirt and struck with considerably more force, two rocks falling out of the moulded…breast region.

The elder Dragon Rider followed the trajectory of the clothing to see Arya fuming on set, wearing her usual leathers instead of the movie getup their employers had insisted on. Durza was a few strides behind her, howling with laughter at the ‘torture’ the directors were putting the elf through. He was practically crying, braced on his knees. Every time he seemed to be close to stopping, the shade would glance at the script of the first scene and start up again.

“Arya, come on.” Brom started. “I know it’s demeaning, and your mother will probably kill all of us involved if you don’t get to us first, but it’s only a few minutes for this scene. Then you can get back in your clothes and, as a bonus, your contract says you can kick Durza in his nether regions after every take.”

Durza stopped laughing.

Arya crossed her arms and glared at the Shadow. “Make it twice.”

“I have no objection to that.” The Shadow threw the elf the clothes.

The woman turned to change and came face to face with the shade, stopping her. “I swear, little elf, if you even think about doing that, I’ll change the script back to the way it really happened.”

Arya smirked. It was hard to take Durza seriously when he was wearing such ridiculous amounts of makeup and color changing contacts. She leaned in until their noses were almost touching and hissed, “You probably like it, masochist.” Then slipped around him and sauntered off. She could feel his eyes on her back and threw a one fingered salute over her shoulder. “And stop staring at my ass!” 

Durza coughed, caught in the act, and turned back to the Shadow. “I also have an issue with my…wardrobe.”

“Your contract renders all your complaints moot.”

“But does it really have to be covered in glitter glue?” Durza lifted his armored shirt in dismay. “And why must I wear this padding? I’m not chubby, why do you insist on making it look like I am?”

Brom stifled a sarcastic chuckle. “I know you think you’re a vampire with the new costume, Durza, but you really need to look in a mirror.”

Durza scowled at the Rider before growling “I’ll be at my starting point.” And whipped around with a swirl of his new cape. He passed by the trailer just as Arya was walking out, trying to tug the hem of her skirt further down her legs to cover as much skin as possible. “Nice legs, elf.” He casually remarked and quickly took off in a sprint before she could wind up and punch him all the way to Daret.

The ground began to shake as Nar Garzvog lumbered up to the Shadow, his clan of Urgals in tow. “Misty One, where do you wish us to stand for our part?”

The Shadow waved the Kull off. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you, we won’t be needing you. We’ll be using these men.” It pointed towards the group of six-foot chub monsters with blue sharpie on their faces. “Much cheaper, and less stench. Go on, get out.” It snapped its fingers and the clan disappeared in a poof of sulfur smelling smoke.

“Now, Arya, please take your place. We need to begin. Brom, if you would please?”

Brom cleared his throat and picked up his script as Arya hopped onto the horse provided. “Remember, Arya, just grin and bear it.”

“Yeah, that’s what politics is all about. I’m going to kill Nasuada for suggesting this to raise war funds.”

“Ready? ACTION!” 

SCENE 1 FOREST CHASE 

Brom cleared his throat again and began in his best ‘Badass Storyteller’ voice.

“There was a time when the fierce and beautiful land of Alagaesia, was ruled by men astride mighty dragons…

“To protect and serve was their mission. And for thousands of years, the people prospered. But the Riders grew arrogant, and began to-” He stopped, flabbergasted. “Now wait just a minute, this isn’t correct at all! We never fought each other, Galbatorix went bloody insane for the Stars sakes!” He twisted around the glare at the Shadow. “What kind of hack is this? You’re ruining an already fragile history!”

“Keep reading.” The Shadow snapped. “History doesn’t make money, drama makes money. I own you until this film is complete, so keep. Reading.”

Brom sank into his chair, grumbling. “This is so beyond my pay grade. Achhem, But the Riders grew arrogant, and began to fight among themselves for power.

“Sensing their weakness, a young Rider named” Brom paused, and took a moment to slowly and carefully pronounce the tyrant’s name, “Gal-buh-tor-ix betrayed them. And in a single bloody battle, believed he had killed them all. Riders, and dragons alike.

“Well, you got something right.” Brom griped, but turned back to reading when the Shadow mouthed ‘own you.’ “Since then, our land has been ruled by Gal-buh-tor-ix. He crushed all rebellion including the freedom fighters known…as the Varden.

“Those that survived fled to the mountains. There, they hoped for a miracle that might even their odds against the king.”

Brom threw the script down. “Now that I’m done with this mediocre pile of shit, let me tell you something! The Varden has never openly had an army verses army war with dear old Galby until Farthen Dur, you illiterate fool!”

The Shadow opened its mouth to reply but a whoop from out in the forest cut it off. “Oooo, Brom is getting maaaaaad!”

“ARYA, BE QUIET!” The Shadow yelled. “You aren’t done yet, Brom! CUE THE CHASE SCENE!”

“Wait, what?” Arya raised an eyebrow then let out a startled yelp as three of the new ‘Urgals’ lunged from the bushes and slapped the three horses on the rump, sending them off at a breakneck gallop. “OH FUCK YOU!”

“Read!” The Shadow snapped.

“Fine! Our story begins one night, as Arya, an ally of the Varden, rides for her life. Carrying a stone, stolen from the king himself.” Brom looked up with a sour expression. “I STOLE THAT, BY THE WAY! NOT YOU!”

“I’m not arguing!” Arya yelled back, trying to reign in the very spooked horse catapulting through the woods with one hand while frantically flipping through the script with another

“CUE DURZA CLOSE UP!”

Durza glanced down at his script and raised his eyebrows, then jerked back as a camera suddenly shot up inches from his face. “Oh! Um…HSSSSSS-“ He managed a few seconds before shoving the camera away. “THAT WAS NOT MANLY OR SHADELY AT ALL!” Laughter from the direction of his elfin companion could be heard. “I WILL HAVE YOU TORN TO PIECES FOR LAUGHING, ELF!”

She ignored him, finally reaching the correct page of the script. “Ah! Human stand ins get shot-”

Two of the new Urgals popped up, holding loaded crossbows level with the two stuntmen currently taking the place of Glenwing and Faolin.

“We’re sorry.” The larger one said sincerely. “It’s nothing personal, really! But they said they wouldn’t wash the sharpie off unless we do what they say.” They both fired.

Two very shocked and very dead stuntmen hit the ground. Arya stepped her now calmer horse around the bodies and settled her chin on her fist, scanning the script again. “And then…then what, Urgals, Urgals, uh…oh here. I get tackled off and throw down a hill.” After a moment of silence, the woman straightened, a deadpan expression on her face. “I should have read this before hand.”

She could hear the thudding footsteps of the Urgal running towards her and quickly clambered to a crouch on top of the saddle. “Fuck it, I’m jumping.” With that, Arya dove off the horse to the drop at the side. Moments later the Urgal landed on the poor animal. “PETA’s gonna sue yo-OW FUCK SHIT OW, SON OF A BITCH WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU WAIT FOR A VALUABLE PRISONER OW TO BE AT THE TOP OF A HILL WITH ROCKS AT THE BOTTOM TO TACKLE THEM?!”

Brom turned to the Shadow. “I’d like to know that as well.”

The Shadow waved it off. “Semantics. Don’t need it.”

“Oh for the love of- This isn’t even the Ancient Language!” Both looked up to see Durza standing on his ‘cliff,’ about to set the woods on fire. “I can’t summon a flame with this!”

“Light the forest on fire.” The Shadow commanded. “You must use the words provided.”

“But that won’t even work!”

“Then set it on fire using the Ancient language in your head.” The Shadow snarled. “I don’t have time for this!”

“That is incredibly dangerous, and my contract-”

“Says you’re a total pussy and that you enjoy romantic comedies and light bondage in the fine print, now SET THE FUCKING FOREST ON FIRE!”

Durza complied, but only while shooting the Shadow the bird.

Right on time Arya cleared the permitted ‘fire circle of doom’ area and skidded to a stop before she ran into the opposing wall of flames. “So, what, we doing this again?”

“Unfortunately.” Durza strode through the fire. Well, not exactly strode. He had to wave his hands in front of his face to prevent the heat from melting his makeup. He cleared his throat and put on his best ‘rape face’ as the script asked. “Give it to me!”

“D-” Arya paused, her previously prepared dirty joke flying out the window as she saw the blocked text. “Wait, this thing says I have my sword out. Why the hell don’t I just stab you in the chest?”

“SEMANTICS!” Came the yell from off scene.

“Riiiggghht.” Arya shoved the script into the leather bracer on her arm. “Achhem, well. Time to be a bitch.”

“There’s a time when you aren’t a bitch?” Durza remarked, appearing sincerely puzzled.

“Shut up.” The elf shifted into a fighting stance. “Durza!”

Durza switched back into his movie persona. “And I’ll let you live.”

“Is there anyone who trusts the words of a shade?” Arya scoffed. “Oh, that’s very true. Hey, do I really have to teleport this?”

“CONTRACT!”

Arya huffed and pulled the ‘stone’ out of her bag. “Fine. This is going to hurt like a bitch.” Seconds later she was on the ground, blinking stars out of her eyes. “Ooowwww…”

Durza chuckled, “Where did you send it?”’

The elf notice where his eyes were. “What, would you like me to hitch my skirt up a bit more for you?”

“What can I say? I like the hot, sweaty leather look.” He grinned. “The light bondage part of the contract wasn’t lying.”

She scowled. “Poor Durza…How will you tell the king…you’re a total freak? Ahhem, I mean, you failed.”

The two then paused, pulling out their scripts. They spent a few moments reading before Durza started laughing and Arya started swearing.

“What the hell is this?!” She yelled. “[ACT LIKE YOU’RE HAVING AN INTENSE BUT PAINFUL ORGASM]?!?! This is TORTURE?!”

The Shadow materialized in the fire circle. “We just need you to act in pain. The orgasm part is afterwards.”

“Excuse me,” Durza raised his hand. “what is a ‘force choke?’”

“Pretend you’re choking her with your fingers but don’t touch her.” The Shadow made a ‘get on with it’ gesture.

The two looked at each other.

“I’m totally okay with this.” Durza shrugged.

“Yeah, well I’m not!” Arya snapped. “No way am I going to roll around in pain then pretend to bask in post orgasmic bliss in front of YOU of all people!”

“Well, we can do something about that first one.” Durza suddenly stomped on the elf’s stomach. 

“OW!!” She reflexively curled into a ball. “YOU BASTARD!”

Durza looked over his shoulder at the Shadow. “We have the rolling around in pain part down, but I’m not the guy to call to get that second part. You’re going to need this guy, Faolin, he lives-” Arya managed to roll up and land a particularly damaging punch on the shade’s crotch. “OW!! YOU BITCH!” He collapsed and began rolling around in pain, clutching his wounded merchandise.

The Shadow sighed. “Alright. That’s a wrap. SOMEONE TELL ERAGON WE’RE HEADING HIS WAY!”

“Someone warn the poor boy.” Brom rubbed his temples before packing up his chair and helping Arya up. “Tell him we already have wounded. It’ll be a miracle if nobody dies before this is over.” They stepped over the dead stuntmen and made their way towards Carvahall, Durza crawling behind them.

~~~~~~

(Set & Scene 2)

[jaehyun-eclipsed]

Before I Met You | Twelve

Updates: Sundays

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Warnings: Some swearing

Before I Met You Masterlist

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“Okay, I’m stuck.”

This morning, I had decided to text Jaemin to help me with my physics assignment. He agreed and we promptly met at one o’clock in the piano room. We sat at one of the two work tables, occupying the two chairs directly next to each other with our backs to the window.

Jaemin leans over, placing his hand on the edge of my seat right next to my thigh to get closer to my laptop screen to read the question. His shoulder is brushing against mine, but I don’t move away.

Okay, dude, you’re invading my personal space. I’m pretty sure you don’t actually need to get this close just to read the question.

But I’m also guessing that this is another sign you like me because you don’t seem to be bothered by it at all.

“It’s asking for the distance,” I say, trying to distract myself from our close proximity. “So I’m going to need the acceleration, but I’m not sure how to get that.”

“You can solve for it. They give you enough information.”

“They do?” I read the question again, a sudden epiphany occurring mid-read. “Oh, I’m dumb. I can solve for delta v and divide by the time.”

“Yep, that’s right! And no –” he turns to look at me and smiles “– you’re not dumb.”

I return his smile and glance at his laptop screen. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing really. I’m supposed to be working on a coding project, but I don’t really want to.”

So you’re just sitting down here – on your own time – helping me with physics when you should technically be working on a project…

“Oh, I’ve never tried coding before”

“It’s pretty simple. See, you can define ‘x,’” he says, quickly tapping several keys on his keyboard. “You can say ‘x’ equals five and then” – he hits ‘enter’ to move to the next line in the terminal – “‘x’ plus two and hit enter, and it’ll return seven!”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

I remain in the same position, comfortably seated all the way back in the chair, only turning my head and leaning in just enough to be able to see the small font on his computer. Okay, you definitely don’t need to be getting that close to me just to see. I can see perfectly from here. And you don’t even wear glasses… unless that’s why you’re leaning in… because you actually do need glasses… Eh, no matter, you wouldn’t be leaning into a complete stranger even if you did need glasses.

I shake my head, returning my focus back to my own computer, filling in the values into the equations in a notebook and punching the numbers into my calculator.

“So, who’s your other roommate?” I ask while submitting my final answer into the online assignment.

“Which one? Renjun?”

“No, I met Renjun. Who’s the other?”

“Oh, Jeno?”

“Jeno… so that’s his name…” I murmur to myself.

Jeno’s pretty cute. He has a very… manly look.

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason. I haven’t met him yet, so I was just wondering who he was.”

“Oh,” he remarks. “Yeah, he’s nice. He’s a chemistry major. You should introduce yourself.”

I nod. “I never see him around, but maybe next time!”

We continue this way for the next three hours. I sluggishly work through the questions, asking for his assistance when needed while he occasionally shows me some random YouTube video or coding thing. Honestly, I was surprised he stayed here with me this long. It’s Sunday afternoon; there are a million other things you could do that are much more exciting than helping your new housemate do her physics homework.

“Yay! I finished! Thanks for your help!”

“No problem!” he says, standing up and shutting his laptop. “I’m going to go upstairs to do my homework now.”

“Now?” I ask, perplexed. “Why didn’t you do it within the last –” I check the time and my eyes widen in shock. “– last three hours?”

He shrugs. “I was procrastinating, but I can just say I was helping you,” he says, following with a slight smirk and a wink.

I deadpan. Did he just – did he just wink at me?

“Anyway,” – his smirk morphs into a smile that’s genuinely warm – “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yep.” I press my lips together in a flat line. “See ya.”

I watch him as he leaves the room and turns left to head upstairs.

What the hell?

Thursday evening, I slowly open my eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the early evening twilight seeping in through the blinds. Stretching my arms above my head, I reach for my phone that I placed at the top of my pillow. I squint at the sudden bright light as I unlock it to check the time.

5:30. I napped for an hour and a half.

Jia was out for some club meeting so I had the room to myself for the next few hours.

Gradually, I sit up in bed, looking around the room as I try to shake off the sleepiness. In my groggy state, I decide that I’ll make a sandwich for dinner and then come back up to the room to call my dad.

While grabbing some groceries out of the fridge, I turn my head towards the door, hearing a muffled sound of Jaemin’s voice. In the short time here, I had learned that the walls in the house were not soundproof whatsoever. Unfortunately, the way I figured this out was because I heard some “things” going on when the girl living across from me brought her boyfriend back to her room.

Stepping out of my room, I look down the hall to see that the door to Jaemin’s room is wide open. He walks out of his room, holding a phone up to one ear and glances at me before continuing. He’s dressed nicer today – blue and white vertical striped button-up loosely tucked into his blue slacks. I shut my door and begin walking down the hall.

There’s a little inlet halfway down the hall with a small table and chair. A number of times, I’d walk by in the evenings and see one of my neighbors sitting there with a laptop. Something comes over me – a desire for more attention to continuing testing my suspicions. I walk into the inlet, setting my bag of groceries on the table and stand with one foot in the hallway, placing my weight on the other leg. I pull out my phone to read the text messages I received from Hyojin when he walks back into his room, gripping a package under his arm.

“Hey, I gotta go,” I hear Jaemin say.

When I look up again, Jaemin is walking towards me. He smiles. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“I just woke up from a nap so I’m going to go make a sandwich.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods and presses himself up against the wall opposite of where I’m standing. “Hey, so I was having some trouble with this physics problem… I think it was one you had last week. Do you think you could help me?”

I deadpan immediately, shifting my eyes to the right before returning my gaze back to him. Fortunately, I’m still groggy from my nap and can’t properly contort my face to express how confused I currently am.

You want me to help you with your physics problem when you’re in a harder class? What? Aren’t you the one that helps me?

“Uh,” I begin hesitantly. “Sure…”

“Okay! Uh, you can go make your sandwich and then I’ll meet you in the piano room?”

“Yeah…”

When he leaves, I continue to stand in place, unable to fully comprehend what just happened. I try to attribute my confusion to the residual sleepiness, but I know I can’t be convinced. He really just asked me for physics help, didn’t he? This sounds like another excuse to spend more time with me…

But I do as he says and make my sandwich, grab my backpack, and then find him at the same table we were at last weekend, except this time, we’re facing the window.

As I pull up last week’s physics homework, I sit there wondering how in the world I’m going to help him. If he doesn’t understand it, it’s unlikely that I would have understood it last week. The most I could do is let him see the solution and that’s not exactly helping him.

And guess what? That’s exactly what happens. The only saving grace is that he doesn’t understand the solution either; so he inputs the answer and calls it good because “it’s not like these homework questions are representative of the exam anyway.” He’s not wrong. Even I know that.

“I have to go meet some friends for dinner,” he says, quickly packing up his things. “So I’ll see you later.”

While he’s gone, I decide to do some reading for tomorrow’s lecture and finish up any of the prelab questions before tomorrow’s lab class. However, I find it difficult to concentrate as my brain wants to perform intense analysis on Jaemin rather than trying to understand Vibrio isolation.

Maybe he really only wanted the physics help because he knew I already had the solution. I’m sure he knew I wouldn’t be able to explain it to him and it’s not like he stayed either… I sigh. But that doesn’t explain the winking or sitting with me for three hours… Ugh, whatever, you need to finish studying for tomorrow.

After about an hour and a half, I hear the front door of the house open and I look over my shoulder. The light from the dining room across the way provides just enough light to make out Jaemin’s figure as he walks into the foyer. He glances at me and waves before going upstairs.

I purse my lips, feeling a bit disappointed that he probably wasn’t going to come back. I truly enjoyed his company. He was fun to talk to and showed me interesting things, including his water bottle collection he had accumulated from attending job fairs. Though I wasn’t interested in dating him, I did want to be his friend. At the very least, I could designate him as someone to go get dinner with and just hang out.

“Hey!” a voice says behind me.

I jump slightly upon realizing it’s Jaemin. He has his laptop and backpack in hand and pulls out the chair next to me to sit down. Oh! Huh… you came back.

“Hi, you came back to work?”

“Yeah, I just have something that should take a half hour.”

Several other residents had returned home and were sitting on the couches a few feet away discussing Pokémon Go.

“Have you ever played?” Jaemin asks me.

“No, have you?”

“Yeah, I played all summer,” he says, pulling out his phone. “It’s pretty fun, see? But yeah, I was here for an internship during the summer so I’d walk around campus trying to catch them.”

He spends the next few minutes searching up different Pokémon on the internet, showing me pictures and telling me about their abilities. I nod, commenting on the ones I found particularly cute. It’s nice; it’s so easy talking to him and we can easily talk about nothing without it ever feeling forced.

“Yay, I finished!” he says.

There’s that feeling in my chest again – the one of disappointment when I thought Jaemin wasn’t going to come back to hang out. I internally chastise myself.

“You going to turn in for the night?”

“Nah, I’ll stay down here.”

Three hours later, at eleven p.m., after having finished my biology homework, I decide that it’s time to return to my room to shower and get ready for bed.

“All right,” I say, gently closing my laptop and packing together my things. “I’m done for tonight.”

Jaemin trails behind me as we go up the stairs, telling me about an interview he has next week. There are three directions you can go once you reach the top of the stairs: right, left, or up to the next floor. Jaemin’s room is the first one on the left when you turn right. My room is at the end of the same hall.

As we near his room, I expect him to stop in front of his room and bid goodnight. Only, he doesn’t do that. He continues to follow me to my door as we pass his room.

“Hey, can you get my keys out of the top zipper?” I ask, turning my back to him. “My hands are full.”

“Sure!” 

I feel him tug on the top of my backpack, followed by a jingling of my keys as he hands me my lanyard.

“Thanks!” I say as I try to separate the key fob from the rest of my keys.

“You’re a Vulpix!” he suddenly says.

“A what?”

I look at him and see that he’s looking at the printed photo on my door of a brown animal resembling a fox with a fluffier tail. Each door had the names of the residents living in that room and a Pokémon to “represent” each resident. He points to the photo above my name tag. “It’s a Pokémon. It’s one of the cuter looking ones.”

I blink several times, unsure of what to say given that I didn’t have much of an interest in Pokémon. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I think it suits you.”

I turn to look at him and he’s smiling again. He does have a nice smile. And I’d have to be blind to miss it, but there’s that look in his eyes again. The mischievous one.

You’re definitely charming, I’ll give you that.

I return a small smile back, allowing the slightest bit of amusement to be detected in my eyes. “Which one are you?”

“Charmander.”

“Does that one fit you?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll let you get to bed. Thanks for helping me today.”

I give him a crooked smile. “I didn’t really help you at all…”

“Of course you did!” he insists.

He still has his hand on my shoulder and as I look back at him, he’s gazing at me with an expression that I can only describe as ‘lustful.’ He’s conventionally attractive, but I still can’t say I’m interested in him. I just happen to like the attention. And I’m not flirting with him either – at least, I don’t believe I am.

But the next thing he does shocks me to such an extent I nearly drop all the books in my hand. He squeezes my shoulder and leans towards me, tilting his head down so that his mouth is near my ear.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

He pulls back, a smug smirk on his lips, evidently amused by the stunned expression he catches on my face before he turns around to walk back to his room. I watch him until he reaches his door, unlocking it and glancing at me before slowly closing it and disappearing inside.

Okay, there’s no fucking way that wasn’t flirting.

It takes me another moment to gain enough composure to process what just happened before opening my own door.

“Who was that?” Jia immediately asks when I step inside.

“Jaemin,” I answer nonchalantly.

“He walked you back to the room?”

“Yeah…”

She gets up from her chair and hovers over my desk as I set my things down. “Did you ask him to help you with physics?”

“Um, no…” I bite my lip. “He asked me to help him with physics.”

“What?!” she exclaims.

“That was my response.”

She follows me into the bathroom, leaning in the doorway as I clip my hair back to take off my makeup and wash my face.

“Do you think he likes you?”

Jaemin’s “goodnight” continues to ring in my ears. The way he was grabbing onto my shoulder was a little more than “friendly.” Hell, whispering into my ear like that is more than “friendly.” There’s no way he’s not – at the very least – interested in me.

“Um, I think he’s interested in me…” I respond, attempting to say as little as possible.

“I saw you guys working together downstairs when I came home. I think he likes you!”

“I have no idea.”

Friday at noon, I returned home for lunch after finishing up my classes for the day. I sat in my room, watching reruns of NCIS while eating a sandwich and some fruit. My plan for the next few hours was to start on the physics homework that was due on Tuesday. I would attempt all of the questions and then ask Jaemin for help this weekend on the ones I couldn’t figure out myself.

I had sort of made an assumption that we would work together every weekend even if it wasn’t for him to help me with my physics homework. He stayed with me for three hours last Sunday and we studied together for the entire evening yesterday. Hell, he came back to study with me after he went to meet his friends for dinner. Dad is convinced Jaemin has a thing for me and even Jia is suspicious, but I’m trying to keep her out of it as much as possible.

I grab my keys and leave my room to run downstairs to wash my dishes and refill my water bottle before starting on my homework. But as I’m about to pass Jaemin’s door, my ears perk up due to the voices coming from his room.

“No, look, it’s really cool!” Jaemin says.

“No! I don’t want to go there! It’s so dirty!” a female voice responds.

“It’s not dirty! And they have really good samgyeopsal!” Jaemin replies.  

I stop mid-step and slowly turn my head towards his door. What the –? Is… is that a girl in his room?

“Noo!” she whines again.

I check the time. It’s 1:45. Last Friday, Jaemin had come to say “hello” to me while I was in the piano room working on an assignment around this time. Our interaction was brief, as he told me he had to be in class at two. Hmm. He should be leaving soon.

I continue walking to the kitchen, figuring it’s probably best that I not get caught eavesdropping right outside his door. As I wash my dishes, I mentally strategize how to stay downstairs long enough to watch Jaemin when he comes down the stairs. I don’t have any of my study materials and I don’t want to risk wasting any time to go get them in case he leaves before that.

After filling up my water bottle, I walk into the dining room and place my things on one of the bar tables near the entryway. I choose to sit in the seat that looks into the foyer and pull out my phone, pretending to busy myself with replying to a text from Hana.

My head snaps up when I hear a door close followed by the voice of the female in question. I wait until I hear them walking down the stairs before getting up, keeping my head down, gaze focused on my phone.

I begin to traverse the stairs, briefly looking at the girl as she comes into view. My heart jumps. Why – why does she look so familiar? Jaemin is following behind her, keeping his gaze to the floor. As we’re about to pass each other, I look up from my phone as if I had just noticed he was there.

“Hey,” I greet.

“Hi.”

I continue up the stairs, rounding the spiral and glance at the girl from the corner of my eye, narrowing my eyes at her. When she reaches the door, she steps to the side, her hands clasped in front of her. She looks at Jaemin expectantly as he extends his hand to open the door for her. My nose wrinkles with a slight disgust at the interaction I just witnessed. She purposely moves out of the way for him to open the door for her?

When I return to my room and sit down at my desk, a sudden realization hits me. Wait a second. I know why she seems familiar!

I log into Facebook and type in a name.

Jisu Choi.

As soon as the page loads, my jaw drops. 

Staring back at me is Jisu’s profile picture of a smiling Jaemin with his arm around Jisu.

Holy shit! Jaemin has a girlfriend!

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Before I Met You Masterlist  Masterlist

[thatanimenerd101]

Painful memories

Paring: Kirishima x female reader

Warnings: TW death of a family member, depression, flashbacks?, mental abuse, read at your own risk, fluff.

Word count: 2.6k the longest thing I’ve written before.

Time taken: Started 7-27-2020, finished 8-14-2020

This dives in quickly to some major mental health. So please be advised. Also, some of this story is based off of my own experiences with my depression. It comes and goes when it wants too with no warnings. Now, don’t go off and said I didn’t give you warnings because I did. Last change if any of the things listed above trigger you. Now, this is NOT fully based on me, just parts. That’s it.

Kirishima had you in his arms, you'd fallen asleep an hour ago in his arms. He smiled down at you, knowing that moments like this were rare. You’d both been in your second year at UA and you both had work studies and had to mainly focus on becoming a better hero. He knew he had two choices, wake you up or have a sleepover and cuddle the whole night. But here’s the thing, if you two got caught sleeping together. No one would hear the end of it. Some students would think you’d done the dirty deed, others would just say aww they look cute together. But here’s the thing, you two never did anything well besides a steamy make out once in a blue moon. He knew that most nights you couldn’t sleep so he decided to just let you sleep in his arms. Holding you closer, he slowly fell unconscious into dreamland.

The sunlight woke you up first, you looked down and Kirishima was sleeping on your chest holding onto you. His hair was down and a bit of a mess. He just looked so damn cute. He looked so peaceful and was quietly snoring. You looked over at his clock that was on the wall. 5:30 am. Breakfast should be ready at six and off to class by 7.

You ran your fingers through his messy hair trying to slowly get the red head to wake up. Leaning down, you kissed his temples.

“Sharkie, it’s morning. Time to get up.”

It took sometime but he finally got up and you went back to your dorm before anyone noticed. Looking at your nightstand you saw an old photo of someone you loved. Your grandmother had passed away when you were younger but the wounds were still fresh. Your parents didn’t believe that you needed to talk to someone and just acted like nothing happened.

You’d have flashbacks of seeing her in her final moments. It would start off as you going about your day but then a certain smell or sound would trigger it. Feeling as if you were time traveling back to that very moment. You never told anyone about it, well until Kirishima found you in your dorm curled up in a ball.

“Please don’t go! Mom doesn’t care about anyone but herself, you promised you’d be with me for me becoming a hero grandma!” You cried, holding her pale hand.

“Everything happens for a reason my dear. There is no need to cry. Besides, I don’t like seeing my only granddaughter cry. Just remember all the wonderful things we did together. Don’t ever be sad because of me.” The heart monitor was beeping less and less. Then a flatline, she was gone.

She was very sick and your mother didn’t care to help her. You had to walk to the hospital when you wanted to see her. You went everyday after school. But now, everything was blank. She was gone and the room felt like it was closing in on you.

When he found you, you were stuck. All you could see was the hospital room she was in and her body lying on the bed. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. He had to put his hands on yours to make you snap out of it.

“I’m here l/n, just focus on the sound of my voice. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

You gently squeezed his hand. A single tear shed. “I-I-I can.”

“Are you okay?” He picked you up off the floor and set you down on your bed.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You mumbled, trying not to burst into tears. No one has asked you that question in years and actually meant it.

“Y/n, you're my friend and I want to help you. So please, tell me what is wrong. I care about you so much and you scared me when I found you on the floor.”

A few minutes was spent in Silence, debating on what you should do. One you made you choice there was no going back. His words repeating in your head as if it was an old song.

You nearly jumped onto him and gripped his shirt and let out everything. You cried so much that his shirt was damped. Confessing everything, how you watched your grandma passed away and how your parents treated you. They made you do things and miss out on life. The custody battle you’d gone through in order to get out of your parents house because of all the mental abuse. You couldn’t take bottling up all your emotions anymore and let them all out onto him. Your parents drilled into your head that you didn’t need love or attention. You were forced to cook and clean. Do whatever they say and trick you into doing whatever they wanted you to do. Giving up your freedoms and your childhood. Luckily, a cousin decided to turn your parents in and you started going to talk to someone. But since you started going to UA you stopped going because you didn’t have the time and thought that everything was okay. Then the flashbacks started again a few weeks after starting UA.

Every since that day, Kirishima decided that he would be full on by your side and learned to read all your emotions. Even if you tried to mask them. You two are just friends but he had feelings for you over the course of your first year at UA. He decided not to say anything because he knew you weren’t ready for a relationship. But there was something he did cherish. He did feel and about it but he couldn’t help. When you were starting to have a depression episode, he would cuddle you as a way to remind you that you were loved and appreciated. You didn’t mind it, it actually helped a bit. Along with long talks, laying in silence, crying, and joking a bit. His arms were a getaway from the world, just be in his arms and you could recharge emotionally. Remember that you do deserve friends and happiness. He had also gotten you many stuffed animals and a weighted blanket to help you. They came in handy a lot. Couldn’t sleep or was starting to feel stressed, wrapping that blanket around you was like a hug. Sleeping was a bit easier with the blanket and the stuffed animals. For some reason, they helped you when Kirishima couldn’t be by your side or when it was late into the night. No matter how many times you yelled, punched or kicked him. He was still always by your side. The red haired boy knew you didn’t mean anything you did or said when you were having a bad day. For a year and a half you were just friends and nothing else. Just best friends that happened to cuddle, a lot.

Until one day it hit you that you had feelings for him. You were scared of these emotions because you didn’t know how to deal with them or why you had them. Your face would get all pink and red every time you saw or thought about him. You didn’t talk much with the girls, due to you being so quiet in class but you decided to ask Mina for some advice. At this time, some of your classmates knew about your past because you had learned to trust people and open up. It took a long time but you slowly opened up about it and went back to talk to someone. But there were still some things that you only told him because he was one of the first people that had shown you kindness when you ran into him at the entrance exam. You tripped and he helped you back on your feet.

Once Mina told you, well more like was in pure joy that you told her your feelings toward him. She told you not to worry and that it was normal to have these emotions.

“I know some shit happened in your past, but enjoy being young. Take risks y/n, besides I’ve known Kirishima for a while and he’s a great guy. He will treat you as the queen you are. Now you wanna hug?” She smiled at you, you liked her hugs she gave.

You texted the redhead and told him that you wanted to talk with him after he had gotten back from his work study with Fat Gum. Over the few years you learned what triggered you and what to do if something did. Just try to breath and walk away.

When Kirishima looked at his phone, his heart dropped in his stomach. Did he do something wrong? Wear you mad at him? Did you find out that he had feelings for you that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried?

“Are you alright Red Riot?” Fat Gum asked, concerned in his tone of voice.

“It’s y/n, she told me she wanted to talk to me when I got back to the dorms and I think I did something wrong?” He looked up at his mentor.

“Look, women are easy. If you did something wrong, just buy them chocolate or the snacks they like. Maybe some flowers if she likes them. From my experience, if a woman is mad just buy her food and tell her you care about her. I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong but there’s a store down the street that you can stop by at.” Fat Gum smiled down at his sidekick.

“Thanks Fat! I’ll make sure to stop by. Also, we aren’t dating. As far as I know, I’m in the friend zone.” Kirishima said quietly and went to change out of his hero costume.

Looking in the small store for the snacks you liked. He couldn’t decide what to get you so he just bought everything. Along with some feminine products and pain medication. He didn’t know if it was that time of the month so he just bought everything he could find that you may need if it was that time of the month. Better to be safe than sorry. He also picked up a small cute little charm that had a (favorite animal) in it. The cashier looked up at him and smirked.

“In the doghouse bro?” He looked to be in college.

“I don’t think so, but on the safe side I’m just being a good friend and buying her some of her favorite snacks. It’s manly to help your friends in need.” He smiled.

“Well good luck man.” Kirishima payed and left and walked to the train station.

“Man I hope I didn’t do anything wrong.” He thought to himself on the train ride back to UA.

You were in your dorm room, it was late at night. Good thing tomorrow was Saturday. You looked down at yourself and remembered the hoodie you were wearing wasn’t yours. It was his, it was red and had a few holes in it but that explains why it smelled so good and had the faint cologne. You were scared and debating on if you should tell him. He meant so much to you. He reminded you everyday that you matter and that your parents had no control over you. He stood in front of your door when your parents somehow got permission to come on the school grounds. He refused to let them in your room or near you. That’s when the teachers found out. They were not pleased and were ashamed of allowing them to come into school grounds. You weren’t in your room at the time, you were in Sato’s room helping Deku with making candy apples for the class and Eri to enjoy later that evening. You enjoyed it when Eri would come over to the dorms. She was sorta like you, you both have a dark past. But she is growing up so fast and learning new things everyday.

A knock on your door pulled you out of thought, it was time.

“Come in Kiri.” You sat down on your bed and took a deep breath in. It was now or never, he was your best friend. The tears, wanting to come out due to being scared of him rejecting you.

The door slowly open and he had two large bags full of stuff.

“I didn’t know if I did something wrong so I went to the store and bought everything I thought you would like.” He started dumping all the snacks onto your bed. “I didn’t know if it was shark week for you so I picked up these too. I hope they are the right size. I didn’t know they had sizes so I just bought all of them. Pads, tampons and a cup that I found next to them. Along with some pain meds.”

Your heart immediately melted. “Eijiro, you didn’t have to do all of this.” You smiled at him, all your worries slowly washed away. Doubt was thrown out the window.

“Wait so I didn’t do anything wrong?” His eyes widened.

“No you silly shark, I’m not mad at you and you didn’t do anything wrong. Also, it’s not shark week yet, that’s next week. But thank you for all of this. It’s too much if I’m being honest.” There was a mountain of snacks on your bed now.

“Thank god, your message you sent earlier sounded like I did something wrong.”

“Oh no, I just wanted to talk to you about something.” You started to sound quiet.

“What’s up? You can tell me anything y/n.” He held onto your hand and the tears started to come back.

One fell down your cheek and Kirishima wiped it away.

“I-I-I-“

“Take your time, okay. We got all weekend, okay?” He squeezed your hand and smiled at you.

“I have these really weird feelings toward you Eijiro and I’ve never felt this about anybody before and I’m scared.” You cried out and he hugged you.

“We can both be scared together.” He flatly stated.

You looked up at him. “You feel that same way I do?” You rubbed your eyes. “More than best friends and something more?”

“For a while now, I didn’t say anything because I knew you weren’t ready for something like that.”

“Then we can both be scared together.” The two of you smiled.

“So uhh wanna watch a movie or something on your laptop?” You laughed.

“That sounds perfect.”

You did that Tik Tok challenge of where you close your eyes and scroll through the movies until someone says stop. It was a romance movie but hey, it worked.

After the movie you decided to ask him something.

“So what are we?”

“I was hoping you’d be my girlfriend since we both like each other. But it’s okay if you want to wait.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

You smiled at him. “Yeah.”

He kissed your forehead and you blushed.

“Since I’m a rock, you can be my little pebble.” You smiled and cuddled the rest of the night.

Some years later.

“So that’s how you and daddy met and fell in love?” Your daughter asked while holding a Red Riot teddy bear.

“I think it’s sappy and love is gross.” Your son argued with his younger sister.

You nodded and smiled. A click of the door opening and your children ran to the door.

“Daddy's home!” They cheered.

Your husband had a single rose in his hand. He kissed you and whispered in your ear.

“My little pebble.” He handed you the rose and you smiled. Your son thought it was gross so he gagged, your daughter thought it was the cutest thing.

You never saw yourself having children or getting married. But you knew that those painful memories wouldn’t hold you back because you were happy with your family that you loved.

Tag list: @tryna-imagine​ @zyrielwolf​ @tooloudarts​ @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​ the last person i tagged gave me the idea to write this so this is kinda for them. So if you find this, i just wanna say hi, i tried writing this with my own experiences with depression, also huge fan of the shinso one you wrote. I find myself re reading it when I am starting to go back into a dark place, it reminds me that I can feel anyway i want to feel.

[sourbkg]

the grinch (3) (bakugou katsuki x reader)

—the final part!!! once again, a huge thank you to @myhero-ghoul and @yuuthnoodle ( @a-boy-is-a-gun) for helping me out this together, I love you both!!—

1/3 2/3 3/3

The night before, you were told to put your gift under the tree so Jirou could take some nice pictures of the mix, which you happily complied. When it came time for the gift exchange, Bakugou is nowhere to be found. You’d spent hours upon hours on his gift, and you hoped maybe he had the decency to come open it with everyone else— but you didn’t let your hopes rise too high.

So, your gift remained unopened under the tree while Secret Santa after Secret Santa grabbed their gifts and announced who their receiver was and had the satisfaction of seeing them open whatever gift.

When it was Kirishima’s turn, he shot you a knowing look while calling out to Tokoyami, handing him the eloquently wrapped box and watching as he opened it with nimble fingers.

Well, nimble until Dark Shadow got impatient and tore the wrapping apart, quickly lifting up the cloth to reveal the cloak. Tokoyami felt the fabric between his fingers before smiling at Kirishima, thanking him for the wonderful gift while slipping it over his arms.

And then, to your pleasant surprise, Bakugou joined the circle, one hand shoved in his pocket while the other held a wrapped gift. He shoved the present to Midoriya, who took it with shaky hands before unwrapping it and giving a happy gasp.

“This is— a Mint Condition All Might Figurine! There were only ten of these models made! How’d did you manage—“

“Doesn’t fucking matter.” Bakugou growled.

You stood before Bakugou had the chance to leave, grabbing the present you made for him and offering it to him with a smile.

“Merry Christmas?”

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes but took the present regardless, going for the card you taped on top of it first.

He opened it delicately, as if he was afraid he tearing it would ruin the overall appeal of it, and skimmed over the inside.

‘Dear Bakugou Katsuki,

I had no idea what to get you and I hope this is up to your standards.’

Starting normal enough, he continued to read. Only, the further he read, the… harsher the words got. Ranging from complaints about how he’s treated everyone the past few weeks (even going as far as ridiculing him specifically for how he’s treated Monoma), to how you haven’t enjoyed his sour attitude overall, especially how his hate seemed to multiply by tenfold since the holiday season began.

And with the final sentence, you stated:

‘I don’t feel like I know you anymore, and because of that, I don’t think we should be friends.

Signed, (l/n) (f/n).’

He glanced towards you, looking at the stupid smile you had on your face. Why did you have a stupid smile on your face? What was the point in inviting him in the first fucking place if all he had done was ruin the mood? The card in his hand was crumbled in his fist, the other thrusting the gift back into your arms.

He ignored your look of hurt and confusion, throwing the remains of the card to the side, “If this is your way of a joke, it’s not fucking funny.”

“What? What do you mean, Bakugou, why’d you—“

He ignored you, turning on his heel to leave, and he would have, but he heard that stupid rat Monoma speak and he lost all control.

“Something the matter, Bakugou? Don’t like your gift?”

The blonde spun back around and in one swift, brutal move, punched Monoma right in the nose.

The area filled with gasps and shrieks, ranging from ‘oh my god’s to ‘Bakugou!’

But he heard your erratic voice through it all, immediately at Monoma’s side to nurse his wound.

“What the hell Bakugou?!” You screamed, setting the present that was meant for him on the floor to check if Monoma’s nose was broken.

“There a problem?” He growled, eyes narrowing and fingers flexing, “you still don’t like my attitude?”

“What are you talking about?” You tore your gaze from Monoma’s bleeding nose to the culprit, who looked ready to murder and cry all in one go. Tears brimming the corners of his eyes that he blinked away harshly.

He opened his mouth to reply, but Kirishima came and pressed a hand to his shoulder, nudging him in the direction towards the doors.

“C’mon man, I think you need a breather…”

Bakugou shook his hand off, shooting a glare his way before sending you one last look and stomping off.

———

The following night was not a pleasant one for the steaming blonde. Kirishima took it upon himself to ‘comfort’ him after his unsavory meltdown, opting to have a sleepover in his room to the blonde’s despair. Usually, Bakugou would be out like a light by nine at the latest. Tonight, the green flash of his alarm clock seemed to mock him.

2:49 am

Why the fuck was he still up and thinking about that stupid card you gave him? It’s not like it mattered what you thought of him. He shouldn’t still be dwelling on it.

A stray tear fell from his eyes and he wiped it away hastily, mentally blaming it on how he was laying before pushing himself up and out of bed. Kirishima laid splayed on the floor beside him, snoring softly, and he made it a point to step around him. At least one of them could sleep.

Bakugou closed the door to his room as quietly as he could, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding while making his way to the common area. Maybe a snack would help him sleep.

By the time he made it down the stairs, he realized he’d forgotten that everything was still decorated. With a scowl, he opened the refrigerator and grabbed the milk, then a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a cup.

All while a stupid fake tree smiled at him, bright eyed and white teeth.

He slapped it off the counter without a second thought, relishing in the small ‘clank’ it made when it hit the floor as he sipped his drink.

When he finished his glass, he quickly washed the cup and put the milk away, glancing to the tree that laid on the floor. He should be the bigger person and pick it up, but really, what was the point?

With a huff, he kicked it away from him, tearing down some tinsel that dangled from in front of the cabinets while he was at it. Why should he have to stare at this shit? He didn’t even like Christmas. It was just a stupid time to get ridiculed by his parents and for spoiled kids to get things they don’t need.

Spoiled kids like Monoma, who could get something like you.

He grunted, yanking down more tinsel.

This was ridiculous.

“Dude, really?” A voice came from behind him. He jumped, dropping the silver plastic from his hands and looking to the newcomer.

Kirishima stood, fighting a yawn, “Are you really tearing the Christmas stuff down?”

“Does it look like I’m tearing the fucking Christmas stuff down?” Bakugou asked with a snark, glancing away from his companion.

“Yeah.” Kirishima said without hesitation, gesturing to the tinsel and tree that surrounded him, “That’s exactly what it looks like, actually.”

The only response he received was an eyeroll, followed by Bakugou walking past him to the hangout area, all while taking down more Christmas decorations in his wake.

“Come on, this isn’t manly at all.” Kirishima scratched the back of his neck, trying to convince his friend to stop.

“I’m not asking you to stay.” Bakugou grunted, taking down some lights that were strung above the TV.

“I don’t even understand why (l/n) wrote that stuff—“

“Why (l/n) wrote what stuff?”

Your voice came out of nowhere, startling both boys, who whipped around to face you.

Bakugou recovered quicker out of the two, sneering in your direction while pulling the rest of the lights down with a harsh yank.

“Like you don’t already know.”

You let out a little laugh, looking to your feet, “What was it? The ‘I don’t like your attitude’ bit? Or maybe the ‘We shouldn’t be friends anymore’. I bet it’s that one.”

“Yeah, actually. It is that.” Sarcasm was laced heavily in his voice, but that didn’t stop him from pulling a wreath off the wall and tossing it to the side.

“So that’s it? You don’t wanna talk about it?”

You were met with silence, and as a response looked to Kirishima, “Come on, Kiri, help me out here.”

“Sorry, (l/n), this… is between you guys.” With a shrug of his shoulders he was gone, leaving you to stare after him before your eyes fell back on the blonde’s form.

“Bakugou—“ you started, only to see him start to walk to a new area, hearing him scoff when you followed.

“Okay, fine. You don’t wanna talk? Don’t. That’s not gonna stop me from telling you what happened.”

You noticed he paused pulling a candy cane from the wall before he continued, and you took this as your sign to continue as well.

“Someone switched the cards you were supposed to get.” You said simply, watching his reaction. Another grunt left his lips in disbelief and you frowned.

“I’m being serious! The one I actually wrote for you was sitting on my bed when I went back into my dorm earlier. I…”

He heard you take a deep breath, turning to face you for a brief second with a raised eyebrow.

“I was gonna leave it at your door. Knock and then leave it and the present, but you never answered and I didn’t want to just…I didn’t want the box to just sit in the hall, so I figured I’d check if you were down here. And you are. And I left the present on the table with the card. And I’d really like you open them. Please.”

You whispered the last part with such desperation that he could’ve believed you were telling the truth. But one question still lingered in his mind.

“Who switched the cards out?” He had an idea, but he wanted to hear you confirm it.

You looked away from him, “I think… I don’t know for sure, but I think Monoma might have…”

Bingo.

He made a noise from the back of his throat, between a scoff and a laugh, before moving past you to the dining room where the present and card sat waiting. You followed behind him meekly, biting your lip when he picked up the card.

He gave you a sideways glance as he tore the seal.

‘Dear Bakugou Katsuki,

I thought for a while about what to get you and I hope you like what I picked’

He grimaced slightly reading the first sentence, it resembling the ‘fake’ far too well.

But, as he continued to read, he realized the two were completely different. It started with you apologizing for forcing him to join the Christmas Shenanigans, saying how you hoped he would’ve enjoyed them the tiniest bit, though it seems he didn’t.

‘I genuinely hope you enjoy this present.

Signed, (l/n) (y/n).’

So it really wasn’t as bad as the fake. With a small satisfied nod, he reached for the gift and unwrapped it. Underneath the dorky Christmas paper was… a book? He glanced up to you, seeing you had your hands clasped in front of your face with your shoulders hunched. You made a noise and motioned for him to continue.

And he did, opening the book to the first page.

The title read ‘U.A. Memories’ with a huge smiley face underneath. He flipped to the next page and there were pictures of him and Kirishima laughing while Sero dangled from the ceiling with his tape wrapped around his body. Under the picture said the date it happened, followed by ‘remember when sero taped himself to the roof but no one helped him down because they were laughing too hard? mr. aizawa had to come cut him down’.

Every page following it had something similar, a picture of something stupid that happened with his friends, a date, and a small description of what it was. Some even dated back to the first year at U.A.

He was… surprised. This had to of taken a while, every word being handwritten and each picture glued down. You probably had to ask everyone for the pictures, seeing as you weren’t even present for half of the activities that were shown.

And at the very back of the book, in tiny letters on a sticky note read:

‘you can ignore this and save me the embarrassment, but i really really like you and think it would be cool if we went and got some hot chocolate together?’

Was this… were you asking him out? Was this a confession?

He snapped the book closed quickly after reading it, turning on his heel to face you.

“You like me?” He asked with a grunt, watching as your eyes widened, but you nodded your head.

Your eyes widened even more when he grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled you closer to him, clumsily pressing his lips to yours in a quick kiss. You didn’t even have time to react before it was over, a small squeak leaving you when he pulled away. Then he looked up, and you followed his gaze to see mistletoe. Taped to the ceiling. Surely Sero’s doing. You’d have to thank him later.

A smile made its way to your lips, wrapping yours arms around his neck and pulling him back for another kiss. It was awkward and had too much teeth to be considered anything true, but you weren’t complaining. Not when you had the best Christmas present given to you.

[apharine]

The First Annual Staff Party of the Castle That Never Was

Chapter 2: The Freeshooter

Pairing:  Reader/Organization XIII

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Rating:  M

Read on AO3

Summary:  [Reader-insert Seven Minutes in Heaven with Organization XIII] When you woke up, you were expecting a quiet day off from missions, shared with no-one but yourself. But your day off went terribly, almost predictably, wrong, and by that evening, you'd been roped into contributing towards a potluck dinner and playing some mashup of Seven Minutes in Heaven and Spin the Bottle with your Organization XIII colleagues. Kingdom Hearts help you.

Notes:  Saturday night update time!  Xigbar is awful and I love him so much.  He is for sure in my top 3 favorite Nobodies, and a lot of the time is my actual favorite (sometimes dethroned by Saix, Axel, or Xemnas).  As always, I always follow back!  Requests are open on my main page!

                                       _____________________ 

     The bottle was pointing to Xigbar.

     You let out a breath you hadn't even been aware that you'd been holding.  Seven minutes in a closet with the Freeshooter wasn't intimidating at all; heck, you needed both hands to count the number of times the two of you had spent over an hour in various cramped, obscure spaces, waiting for the right target or intel on reconnaissance missions.  This was nothing.

     “Looks like you're stuck with me, sweetheart,” the Freeshooter joked, elbowing you playfully as he stood up from his seat next to you.

     “However will I survive?”  You grinned, giving his shoulder a playful shove in return.  Much to your surprise, the Freeshooter’s ever-present smirk softened, and he offered you a calloused, un-gloved hand.  You raised your eyebrows at him in suspicion; it wasn't often that the devilish man actually tried being considerate.  Xigbar raised his eyebrows back at you, moving his hand closer in what appeared to be a genuine desire to be gentlemanly for once.  Who’d have thought he had it in him?

     With a tentative smile back at the man, you placed your un-gloved hand in his palm, noticing how strange it felt to actually be touching skin-to-skin.  All the Organization clothes normally prevented much direct contact, after all.  If you were being totally honest with yourself, Xigbar's broad hand felt nice in yours.  Reassuring, almost.

     The Freeshooter pulled you up to your feet, and you motioned to pull your hand away now that he had done his job.  But Xigbar’s smile quickly returned to his usual shit-eating variety as his grip tightened, nearly crushing your hand and preventing your escape.

     “Look at them, holding hands!”  Axel jeered, while someone else – Luxord? – wolf-whistled.  “Told you they were more than just friends!”  The redhead elbowed Demyx, his seatmate, with a knowing wink in your direction.

     “Go Xigbar!”  Demyx laughed, clapping amusedly.  “I always knew you’d score with her eventually!”

     You very suddenly felt like punching Demyx.  Hard.

     If you didn't punch Xigbar first.

     The impossible man was laughing that downright impish laugh of his, dragging you off to the closet amidst more jeering, still clasping your hand tight enough that you couldn’t get it out.  Why were you friends with him again?!

     As soon as the closet door was opened, you stumbled in to the darkness and away from your atrocious colleagues, finally wrenching your hand away from Xigbar.  You were blushing so badly you could feel it in your cheeks and hear it in a roaring in your ears.  Xigbar paused before entering, yelling something out to the partygoers – you were sure you didn’t want to know what, and actually felt grateful you were too flustered to make it out – before finally closing the closet door behind him.

     “You're probably the biggest jerk I know.  I hope you realize that,” you growled, sliding down to a sitting position against the far wall of the closet.  Xigbar laughed, and you couldn't help but smile just a little bit too.  As much as you didn't want to admit it at the moment, his antics always did amuse you.

     “Yeah,” Xigbar agreed in a lazy drawl.  His shoes softly pattered on the ground, and you figured he was walking over towards you by the sound.  As your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the closet, you could make out his silhouette approaching, illuminated by the crack under the heavy closet door.  “You don’t even know the half of it.  But hey, I keep things lively around here, and nobody really gets hurt.  Most of the time.”  A soft swish met your ears as Xigbar pressed his back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting by your side.  Ever confident and casual, he draped one arm, surprisingly heavy with lean muscle, over your shoulders.

     “Most of the time,” you echoed, a tinge of amusement leaking into your voice.  You were pretty certain that you'd never again be able to convince Axel or Demyx or Luxord or…anyone, really…that you and Xigbar were just friends.  The rest of your nonexistence would probably be spent enduring their teasing.  The thought was a little bit less than appealing, but you just couldn't stay mad at Xigbar for it somehow.

     “You're pretty lucky you only got stuck with me, though, sweetheart,” Xigbar laughed, giving your shoulders a friendly squeeze.  “Imagine if you had to be in here with Vexen?”

     “Hey, he's not that bad,” you said, aware that the Freeshooter would probably always be at odds with the Academic.

     “Whatever.  The point is, you coulda been stuck in here with someone like Xemnas or Saix.  I know I'm not Marluxia -”

     “Ugh,” you interjected, wrinkling your nose at the thought.

     “No?”  Xigbar drawled.  “Here I was, thinking that Flower Boy was your little crush all this time, what with that face of his…”

     “No!”  You laughed, shaking your head vigorously at the thought.  “He’s so not my type!”

     “Then what is your type?”  The Freeshooter asked, his voice suddenly very serious.  In the dark, you could see his golden eye watching you with alarming studiousness; you’d seen that look on him before, when he was sizing up a target on a mission.  You were vaguely aware that alarm bells were going off in the back of your mind; Xigbar was an easy-going jokester on the outside, but you knew that at his core, he was clever, cunning – conniving, even.  The Freeshooter was planning something, and you had a feeling he was going to make sure you would play right into his hands.

     “Man, I don’t know,” you sighed, tipping your head back against the wall, trying to choose your words carefully; the slightest slip could be what Xigbar was looking for.  “I guess…I’m more into guys with more of a rugged handsomeness, you know?  Don’t get me wrong, Marluxia is definitely handsome,” you added, stopping Xigbar before he even started.  “But his face is so perfect it’s almost, like, scary.  I want more of a manly man, who’s a little less…”

     “Pink?”  The Freeshooter offered, a pleased grin spreading across his face again.

     “I guess, yeah,” you admitted, unable to restrain a giggle or two.  You changed the topic abruptly, wanting the focus off yourself and that dangerous gleam out of your friend’s good eye.  “But okay, what about you, Xig?  What’s your type?”

     “Well,” Xigbar murmured, the hand around your shoulders sliding down to your waist.  “If you really want to know, little lady…”  His breath was in your ear, whispering conspiratorially as it had so many times in the past, but this time, there was more than simple scheming in his tone.  “I’d say my type is you.”

     “C’mon, Xig, quit joking around,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.  He could be such a tease.  Ordinarily you found his ragging amusing, but this time, it irritated you.  Xigbar certainly had his own sort of devilish charm, even despite – or maybe because of – his scar and eye patch, and you’d be lying if you were to say that you hadn’t noticed your attraction to him the moment you met him.  Hearing him joke about being interested in you only stung.

     “Joking?”  Xigbar scoffed.  “As if.”

     The hand around your waist tugged you just a little closer, and you found yourself turning towards the Freeshooter, watching his face carefully – suspiciously, even.  Your eyes darted down to his mouth – that attractive, always smirking mouth of his – and back up to his golden eye, which was fixed on you with an intense gaze.

     Maybe he really had been serious.

     You barely had time for that thought before Xigbar pressed his lips to yours gently.  Your breath caught, your head swam, and you did the only thing that made sense.  You kissed him back.

     The Freeshooter pulled away too soon for your liking, and you made a small sound in the back of your throat, immediately hoping against hope that it had gone unnoticed.  Xigbar heard it, though, and laughed.

     “I'll take that to mean that you want more.”

     The strong arm wrapped around your waist pulled you onto the Freeshooter’s lap so that you were chest-to-chest with him, your legs straddling his.  The position seemed undignified to you, somehow, and you were about to protest when Xigbar's lips covered yours a second time.  Instead, you melted into the kiss.

     Xigbar snuck one hand up the back of your shirt, teasing your bare skin and fiddling dangerously close to your bra clasp.  His other hand traced circles on your inner thigh, making you shiver.

     And then, just as you let out a quiet moan, a sudden flood of light overwhelmed the room.

     "Time's up, lovers!”  Axel jeered, a camera in his hands.

     “Out of the closet, Xiggy.  You two will have to finish things up later,” Demyx added with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

     “As if,” Xigbar grinned, wrapping one arm around you more tightly, shifting you out of the way just the tiniest amount.  An arrowgun appeared in his other free hand; the Freeshooter waved it lazily as he spoke.  “Let’s get something straight here, kiddos.  I’m Number Two in this Organization.”  A single bullet tore out of the gun, finding its mark in Axel’s camera.  The device fried in the Flame’s hands, electricity crackling as it short-circuited.  Xigbar’s grin widened.  “And I don’t take orders from you.  So I’ll be finishing things up whenever my little lady wants.”  You didn’t miss the way he had deliberately called you his, or the triumphant gleam in his eye as he said it.  So this was what the Freeshooter had been plotting…well, you had to admit, you didn’t mind playing into his hands on this one.

     “Well?”  Xigbar murmured to you, keeping his gun fixed on the figures in the door.  You had a feeling, somehow, that they wouldn’t be harassing you about your relationship with Xigbar anymore.  “Just say the word and I’ll teleport us out of here to somewhere more…fun.”

     You couldn’t help but smile as you nestled closer against Xigbar, wrapping your arms more tightly around his lean-muscled shoulders in anticipation of his use of his space powers.  Planting a kiss on his scarred cheek, you whispered in his ear.

     “Let’s go.”

[unikornu]

Page 16,  Skirmish

After figuring out the terminal and all star core mess in Galaxy Zone the duo had yet two more locations to clear out before getting enough power to turn the defensive systems off and finally raise the last flag in Nuka World. They decided on Interstellar Theater first, as name suggested it probably remained with just a few serving simple robots. That was not the case.

- Are they fucking kidding me? This is a bartender?! Lucy was holding herself tightly on top of a Startender massive robotic body as he started turning abruptly his torso and pushing away with an impact of angry bull.

- Hold ya ass there, Boss, almost ready. Gage was ducking behind the bar shoving a big bullet ionizing with energy within to the rifle Lizzie provided them with. Thing looked more like someone attached an oversized cattle prod to a regular rifle but it was doing its job perfectly for their current needs.  

- What do you think im doing? She was bashing and shoving her knife in any space she could find in Startender long enough to distract him and stop from shooting. Using her pioboy was no option with this big piece of machinery as it started rolling around on its wheels, hitting the rocket seats nearby.

- Get off him, now Boss! Gage placed the rifle on the bar top raising his head just enough to see the robot.

- Fuck...its stuck. As Lucy eventually found a crack to dig with her knife in and to hold herself better it got stuck. Being busy pulling with her hands and pushing with legs into the metal she didn’t hear Gage.

- Well shit, that’s gonna zap. Gage shook his head and grinned under the nose upon pulling the trigger. As the bright electric wave hit the robot Lucy got pushed away by the impact that arrived to her knife grip she was holding so tightly to  and landed ungracefully inside of one rocket seats, only her legs dangling outside of it.

Upon second shot the protective glass of Startender cracked and exploded in a smoke cloud sending sparks and small parts around. As the robot capability to fight got away with power Gage stood up and approached the seat from which Lucy managed to hold onto the bars and pull herself slowly up.

- Boss, you alri...holyyy shit. As she finally stood up Gage could not hold himself anymore from laughing, trying not to look at her but he couldn’t. While she was looking undamaged her hair certainly got some extra volume, all frazzled and messy, sending a spark to Porter’s finger as he touched it.

- Wha..why are you laughing so much? She squinted her eye and brushed the glass of the pipboy screen to see the reflection of herself giving her idea. - Fuck. She tried to pat the hair back to its flat shape but she got few kicks herself trying to do so.

- It will wear off...eventually Boss. Alright, let’s search the place. Gage brushed his eye and grunted to clear his throat after having a good laugh.

- If we split it will be faster. Lucy stretched her hand, pointing with a finger towards his hair as he turned around giving him a small share of the experience. - Shocking uh? She smirked as he looked back at her with a puff on his head.

-----

Lucy took a right turn from the show room and spotted one more robot stationed in the bathroom. She sneaked behind and pushed it to the ground, piercing the head core shortly before it fired up any of its lasers.

- That must have been quite a hassle. She whistled under her nose looking at the corpse placed in a huge crashed wall crater. - There we go. She snatched another core from under the body and turned her eyes towards the cabins. She gave a look on a sign “out of order” at the last one and paused for a moment upon approaching it.

- Oh cmon...it still didn’t wore off. It wasn’t even here.... She shook her head to get rid of the past-flashes and opened the door. Empty. Upon turning around and walking towards the exit she gave a fast glance on a broken mirrors while passing, spotting Harrison’s shade in the corner.

“Good job, Feit. I knew you had in you all along. At last.” - familiar low voice echoed in her mind. She turned abruptly and threw the knife towards where she spotted the figure but no one was there anymore. - What the fuck am i doing, its just drugs and he ain’t real. She nodded at herself and picked the knife from the cracked floor.

- Ya okay Boss? I heard you talking. Gage showed up at the door shortly after.

- I was just mumbling to myself. Any luck with the cores? He nodded pulling a few cores out of his pocket.

- I wouldn’t go to the other bathroom tho....

- Why? She asked curiously.

- It’s...just..fucking weird. Gage shook the image of a corpse and cabin filled with plungers off his mind. He placed the hand on her back as she went pass the door - Let’s just head out Boss, we are almost done.

------

-Vault Tech...ugh. The same sound of disgust came out of both their mouths upon entering their last location in the park.

-Among the stars..more like among the bullshit. Gage growled under his nose even more upon pushing the button that lighted their faces with galactic holography image.

- Don’t have to tell me that..even before they were pain in the ass. Lucy sighted and spotted in front of them a mannequin wearing something that reminded her of Dara. - Right...hubologists, i almost forgot.

- We should come back for them once we deal with Nisha. Not like they goin anywhere. Gage suggested as they were walking surprisingly calm through the vault tourist path.

- Don’t you find it weird...? No one is trying to wreck our asses for once. Gage nodded to her in agreement as they were passing room after room, robots siting down, out of power still with their weapons ready in case of ambush but nothing seemed to be lurking behind any corner. At one point they entered a room that looked almost like a pre-war apartment, with clean accessories and furniture. Lucy spotted a vault door frame painted to fit with the wall.

- I go work on that and see what’s inside. Check the rest. Maybe we find some of the last cores. She approached the door and started looking for a way to unlock it.

-Alright Boss. Just be careful. Gage left to a nearby lab filled with plants and somewhat still fresh grown fruits almost tempting to just rip and eat them on a spot.

Lucy could feel a weird smell hitting her nose but assumed its just oldness of this place raising in the air as they disturbed its peace. The familiar click was heard and door slid open.

- Of course...another experiment. Even here, jezz. She kicked the skeleton from the chair and sat in front of terminal looking for any cores that might still be shoved somewhere in the structure. With each second she could not only feel the smell hitting her harder but also her vision blurring out, not being able to focus on reading through the data left on the screen. Despite that she still spotted the orange light and pulled the core out.

- No luck there Boss. Gage came back as he heard door sliding open when she walked out. -Hey...are you feelin okay? He noticed her hands shaking and eyes rolling around in confusion.

- I feel a weird urge...to punch you. The adrenaline coming out on nowhere hit her like a bat over a head. The sudden sharp look in her eyes made Gage take a step back. The same voice whispered to her ear coming almost like someone was right behind her.  -”Cmon Feit. Make me proud, again. Just punch the hell out of that dumbass of yours.”

-Whoa, easy there, Boss. I dunno what hit you but it ain’t real. Gage noticed a small clouds of dust moving in few spots as something was being released into the air in that room and took few more steps back to not expose himself to it. The real problem was slowly moving towards him, Lucy, more and more convinced that she wants to beat the crap out of him for no reason. As he squinted harder he could also almost spot a stroke of a tall manly figure pushing her forward but his attention went back to her shortly.

- Just stay still while i gut the fuck out of you, bitch. She whispered and grinned but in a more scary manner that even made Porter uneasy.

- Well..shit......

His bulky armor blocked the first hit as she swung the knife at him. Knocking her out was the only way to stop her but it proved harder than it sounded in his head as with her small posture and agility he couldn’t touch her that easily. Swinging the blade in its grip with fingers she launched again, this time thrusting forward trying to hit the gap between the armor bars and aiming at his exposed legs as well. Gage used his rifle for blocking and started taking steps back to the hallway, slowly realizing at some point he has to fight back one way or another.

- That’s it, fuck it. Maybe she was faster but he had enough sparring's like that in his life and hell lot more experience. She kicked the rifle off his hand but he remembered her moves and with the next thrust caught her by the wrist, twisting it and forcing her to drop the blade. She kicked him in the knee to release herself and moved back, breathing rapidly.

- Cmon Boss, bring it on. He stretched his neck and watched her approaching with a clenched fists but her steps quickly turned into a run, climbing with one leg onto the railing and lunging at him, knocking him heavily to the ground. She punched him repeatedly in the face, making his nose bleed.

-Goddamn woman. He shook her off brutally to the side offering back one strong punch in the face to knock her to the ground for a second. As she landed her knife was nearby, she spotted it and reached for but got stopped by the raider’s heavy boot steeping on her hand.

- As fun as it would be to have a decent sparring with you we ain’t having time for that shit now, Boss. She growled at him as he pulled her up, holding her by the neck and hand. Her attempts to push him away got quickly stopped as he took a good swing before giving her a hard hit in the head with his forehead. He could take it easily after years of brutal fighting but Lucy got knocked right on the spot. 

- Fucking vaults. He brushed the blood from under his nose and grabbed her under the shoulder like a sack, hiding the knife in his pocket and all the other sharp objects till he will be sure she is back to her proper sanity level. At least the tour was at its end so he could take a break in the back of the office and await for Lucy to wake up, running hand through her hair from time to time and checking if he didn’t leave her too big of a bump. He certainly wouldn’t mind testing their skills together later on but in a more controlled manner as he brushed his jaw, still hurting from one of her punches.  

______________

Note: Not much to say. Just as an update info i constantly do update my masterlist, adding new headcannons, tryin to keep those tags in proper manner, doesn’t always work as intended but hey..... dats tumblr - it just works right? *sigh

[merry-kuroo]

The Last Embers- A MHA Fanfic - Chapter One

Hello. This is my first MHA fanfic and its a AU. I hope y’all like it (or not. that’s cool too.) This is based off a idea I wrote about for my Intro to Creative Writing class almost four years ago and I thought it would be cool to apply this to MHA.

Summary: Less people in the world are being born with Quirks and those that have Quirks begin to lose them between the ages of 25-30. This has caused the decline of Pro Heroes and Villains. Those that graduated from Class A at U.A. have turned 25 and are beginning to witness the decline of their Quirks. How will they cope and how will it affect their relationships? Meanwhile, Izuku searches for the next successor of One For All, even when he's told its pointless... 

Chapter One: Love Like This; Kirishima & Kaminari Part I

Chapter Summary:  Kirishima wakes up one morning to find his Quirk has disappeared.

Read it on AO3 too...There’s some notes on the AU as well.

Enjoy! The chapter is below the cut :)

December 11

The first thing Kirishima Eijirou did when he woke up was activate his Quirk. His alarm would ring incessantly, then he’d sit up straight in bed and harden his arms and hands. Almost two months after his twenty-fifth birthday he hadn’t felt any different, but he made it a point to check just in case. He was still an active Pro Hero. He joined Amajiki Tamaki’s pro hero agency, when he started it three years ago. It was in the same area as Fat Gum’s agency and Kirishima had joined eagerly, thankful to be working with his senpai.

But there was the realization that he wouldn’t be a Pro Hero for long.

Bakugou had chastised him for not opening up his own hero agency instead. There wasn’t much time left for him. So, Kirishima had planned to open up his own as soon as possible and make sure his name was known before losing his Quirk. He was thankful to be ranked number eight on Japan’s Hero Billboard Chart last year with his other classmates.

This morning, when his alarm sounded, Kirishima didn’t automatically sit up in bed. He opened his eyes slowly, letting the sound of the alarm wash over him. The sun wasn’t filtering through the window like most mornings. He felt a sense of dread. Something wasn’t right.

Kirishima sat up in bed, turned off his alarm and stared at his hands. He tried to activate his Quirk.

Nothing happened. His slightly tanned skin remained still.

He waited a couple of minutes before trying again.

Nothing.

The realization didn’t hit him all at once. He leaned back until his head touched the wooden surface of his bed’s headboard. Kirishima thought back to the first day he activated his Quirk, and how surprised he was when he realized he cut himself. He thought back to how in middle school he became inspired by the Crimson Riot and his best friend, Ashido Mina. Bakugou and Kaminari flashed in his mind, from their practical exams to enjoying their youth. He remembered the little shock Kaminari gave him when they hugged, something Kirishima hadn’t felt for a long, long time.

Kirishima didn’t notice the hot tears that streamed down his cheeks. He reached for the cellphone on his nightstand. He had a couple of messages from Seto and Ashido, but he didn’t bother checking them. He went through his contacts and dialed a number.

“Hello?” A tired voice answered.

“Hey, Amajiki-senpai. Can I talk to you for a sec? I have some bad news.”

---- --- -- December 14

They were throwing a retirement party for him. Kirishima Eijirou was twenty-five years old, number eight on the Hero’s Billboard Chart, and he was retiring at age twenty-five. Amajiki had cried when Kirishima told him the news, and told him that it was unusual for Kirishima not to notice his Quirk was disappearing.

Kirishima had heard from other Pro Heroes about how there was a steady decline of their Quirks powers until they couldn’t even activate it. Kirishima had just used his Quirk the day before it disappeared and he hadn’t noticed anything unusual about it.

Well, everyone was different. The scientists studying the decline of Quirks in the human body constantly came out with new studies about the different ways Quirk declination could occur. Recently, they said there were a few people who admitted to losing their Quirk suddenly without warning. And despite the age range being from twenty-five to thirty, there were people younger than that who had lost their Quirks.

Before the party, Kirishima went to the park near his apartment. He sat on the bench and watched a few middle schoolers play soccer. He pulled his red scarf tighter. It was cold, but Kirishima didn’t mind. He had felt numb and empty the past three days, and the bitter cold was a reminder that he was still here.

Kirishima felt weird being out in public and no one recognized him. He returned his hair back to its natural state, black. It was no longer spiked up, instead falling to his shoulders. He wondered if Amajiki would recognize him when he arrived.

After telling Amajiki about the loss of his Quirk, Kirishima cried. It wasn’t manly at all, but he felt that he had the right to mourn his Pro Hero career and his Quirk. All his life Kirishima knew that he would lose his Quirk, but nothing could prepare for the moment it actually happened. Kirishima had come up with a weird analogy for it back in high school.

It was like death. Everyone dies and everyone knows that it will happen.

Then the person you love, your classmate, your parents die. You know it's going to happen and you’re not prepared? Why isn’t anyone actually prepared for when it happens? Is it just the shock when it happens unexpectedly? Maybe if everyone knew the date and time they would lose their Quirk or when a loved one died then the shock would disappear then.

Kaminari liked his analogy while Bakugou claimed he was thinking too much into it.  Kirishima noticed that Bakugou had looked bothered by it, but he never said anything to him about it.

Well, now was as good a time as any to tell his friends that he lost his Quirk. He was the second person in their class to lose it. Kirishima sent a text via group message about how he lost his quirk and that he was on the way to his retirement party.  And to make the mood light, he added a lot of “lol” and “lmao” (with extra o’s). He didn’t want to see everyone’s reactions just yet, so he put his phone on silent.

---- -- ---- Thirty minutes later, Kirishima arrived at Amajiki’s Pro Hero Agency. He poked his head in and found that no one was at the front. In fact, the agency was completely dark. “Hello? Anyone here?”

No answer. Kirishima assumed the party would be held in the meeting room. He walked to the meeting room, which was in the back of the agency. He knocked on the door but didn’t hear anything. Kirishima opened the door and jumped when two confetti poppers went off in his face.

“Surprise, Kirishima!” Ashido screamed.

The lights turned on and Kirishima’s UA classmates, Amajiki, the receptionists and interns were clapping for him. There were streamers and balloons around the room, and a three tiered chocolate cake was in the center of the room.

“Everyone!” Kirishima cried. He hated to be crying again, but he was so happy. “I just sent that message--How did you get here so fast?”

“Dumbass,” Bakugou said as he approached him. Izuku trailed along.

“Amajiki-senpai gave us a call. He wanted to surprise you and asked us to keep it a secret that we knew.” Izuku exclaimed.

“Do you know how surprised we were when we got that long message from you?” Uraraka laughed. “We were here setting up the whole time.”

“Sorry about that, Kirishima,” Amajiki said. “I thought you might want to see your friends.”

“No, thank you! Thank you very much!” Kirishima cried. “I’m so happy right now.”

“Speech! Speech!” Ashido called.

Everyone stood around Kirishima, waiting for him to make a speech. Kirishima hadn’t even thought about making a speech. What was one supposed to say when they lost their Quirk anyway?

“Uh,” Kirishima began. “First, thanks for coming out. I know how busy you must be.” Kirishima’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Kaminari.

He wasn’t there.

“It was a quite a shock to wake up a few days ago and find that my Quirk no longer worked. But even so, I’m thankful for my time at U.A. and the wonderful friends I made along the way. I was a Pro Hero for seven years. I accomplished my dream. Thank you for coming out today!”

Everyone clapped, then Kirishima was pulled into a multiple group hugs. Momo gave him a bouquet and Iida gave a small speech as well about how proud he was to be Kirishima’s classmate and friend. He talked to Todoroki, Izuku, Hagakure about their work. Sero and Tokoyami had given him some expensive wine.

The party was not as bad as Kirishima thought. A few of the interns cried and asked for pictures and autographs. It was the last time Kirishima would be the Red Riot, so he obliged. The chocolate cake Amajiki ordered was fantastic, and he was on his third slice when he noticed Bakugou leaning up against the wall by himself.

“Always the loner, huh?” Kirishima asked as he sauntered up to him.

“Shut up,” Bakugou said. It was light hearted. He lightly punched Kirishima in the arm. Both of them leaned against the wall and watched the party goers. “So, tell the truth.”

“Truth about what?”

“About losing your Quirk. How do you really feel?” There it was. A rare time where Bakugou was showing his true feelings. He had mellowed out slightly ever since graduation. He still wouldn’t hesitate to call someone a dumbass or yell at them, but it wasn’t as often. It still took Kirishima by surprise when he asked him about his feelings. The last time he did that was when Kaminari had left town three years ago.

“Honestly, it really sucks. I wish I had just a few more years. I think everyone at least wants to keep their Quirk until their thirty, but that isn’t the case for everyone. I’m glad I was born with a Quirk, but now I feel like I lost an important part of myself.” Kirishima picked up a piece of chocolate and plopped it into his mouth. “So, now I just need to readjust.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I still want to save people. The fire department is having training sessions and classes. It’s still a hero type job,” Kirishima explained. He studied Bakugou’s expression. He seemed...solemn.

“Hey, is something--” Kirishima was cut off by Ashido yelling at him.

“Come on. We’re going to take a class picture!”

“What? But Jirou, and Kaminari aren’t here!” Kirishima protested.

“It’s fine. This isn’t the last time we’re going to meet up anyway. Come on!”

After taking pictures, eating more food, and playing a lively game of charades, the party ended. Kirishima bid goodbye to his classmates and they promised to meet again soon. He wished he could spend more time with them, but they still had to work, and many of them didn’t live in the city anymore. Bakugou told him that when Kaminari was back in the city, the three of them would go get drinks. Kirishima didn’t even have the heart to respond, opting to wave goodbye to his best friend.

“You don’t have to stay behind and help me clean,” Amajiki said as he folded a table cloth.

“No, it’s fine. Consider it my last job at the agency,” Kirishima laughed soundlessly.

“Hey,” Amajiki said. “Thank you, Red Riot. For everything.”

Before he could respond or burst into tears again, the door to the meeting room squeaked open. “Hello?” A singsong voice called out.

“Jirou! And Kaminari!” Kirishima exclaimed as his two former classmates walked in. Kirishima’s pulse jumped when he took in Kaminari. It had been three years since he had last seen him. His blond hair was now cut short, making him look more mature. He had grown taller and more muscular too. Kirishima stared at his left arm where dark ink sat on his skin. “What are you doing here?”

“We got Amajiki-senpai’s message about your retirement party! There was an issue with the shop, then our train was delayed. Wait, did we miss it?” Jirou asked, observing the other workers folding up the tables.

“Yeah, everyone left a while ago. I was helping clean up,” Kirishima answered.

There was a silence between the three of them. Kirishima felt tense and Kaminari wasn’t looking at him. Jirou looked back and forth between them, then she sighed.

“So, um, I’m going to help Amajiki-senpai clean up. You two should go catch up,” Jirou said. “Kirishima, your favorite cafe is right down the street, right? Kaminari told me about it.”

Kaminari blushed. “I didn’t say it was his favorite. We only ate there a couple of times.” Then Kaminari faced Kirishima. “But sure. We can go eat. My treat.”

“Sure.” Kirishima didn’t sound excited, but his heart was pounding heavily. How could he want Kaminari with him and also want him to be far away? Things were easier with Kaminari far away from him. The longing for him had become manageable over the past three years. Now, everything was back to zero.

Kirishima bid goodbye to Amajiki, and they shared one last brotherly hug. An intern gave Kirishima a box of the leftover chocolate cake and wished him luck in his future endeavors. Jirou hugged Kirishima, and he tensed up. She didn’t seem to notice. She congratulated him and told him that they would catch up soon.

“Hey, Kaminari, I’m going to find a hotel for us to stay at,” Jirou said.

“Okay, just text it to me,” Kaminari answered. He was already heading towards the door. Kirishima followed after him.

The two men made it outside. Kirishima shivered at the cold wind whipping his body. Kaminari held his hand out as tiny flecks of snow began to fall. Kaminari turned to him.

“Can we talk?” Kaminari said.

“Three years have gone by. Now, you want to talk,” Kirishima responded. He was being harsh, but he didn’t care right now.

“I know and I’m sorry. I got that message from you and--” Kaminari shook his head. “No. Let’s talk at the cafe. Remember? They have really good curry too.” Without waiting for a response, Kaminari headed towards the cafe.

And just like before, without hesitation, Kirishima followed after him.

[marvel-lucy]

The Walking Disaster, chapter 4

All chapters are on the Walking Disaster Masterlist ...

As always, I’m writing this too fast, not editing, and not paying attention to anything, so it’s not good. Definitely writing as distraction to myself rather than quality at the moment, sorry x

I have successfully avoided Steve for nearly two weeks now. According to Nat, I should own up to my failings and sucker punch anyone who dares to laugh at me, but it’s not really my way, so instead I’ve turned on stealth mode.  I stand behind my door, squinting through the eyehole to check the coast is clear, then I’m out, down the stairs and outside on my way to work in seconds flat. I haven’t tripped once so far. I collect my post at 2am, and I don’t buy coffee out. I don’t even order pizza to be delivered, in case I open my door at the same time as Steve. I’m cooking instead. Two of my fingers are currently bandaged, and I may have lost part of an eyebrow, but it’s OK, I cut myself bangs to hide it. Then I wore a cap to hide the bangs….

Anyway. The point is, I don’t know why it’s got to me. Well, I do.  I’ve lived in this small circle of friends for so long now, and they accept my calamities.  They know that for every time I trip over and break something (cup, TV, bone) I’ll pick them up if they’ve got a broken heart. For every time I spill something on myself, I’ll let them spill their secrets on me and I won’t tell (my own, I’m not so good at keeping). For every bit of rambling nonsense I blurt out, there’s a good heart behind it. Ah, maybe I’m talking myself up too much, but what I’m trying to get at is that they accept me for being a bit of a disaster area, and that’s nice.  But now there’s these new people in the mix, and… I want them to accept me. No, that’s a lie. I don’t want to be tolerated, and be an amusement that’s accepted. I want them to like me. To think I’m cool and beautiful and smart and fun. And I can’t do that with a purple bruise on my forehead, or the inability to pass a field sobriety test when sober (don’t ask. It’s another thing).  So I’m avoiding Steve. In the hope that – I don’t know. That in the next two weeks I suddenly stop walking like a new-born giraffe? That he gets his memory wiped in some horrific accident and doesn’t remember the sight of me upside down over a box, or walking into a door, or spraying coffee on my far-more-attractive best friend?  I don’t know, why are you expecting logic. You’re my internal monologue, you should know better.

Nat’s currently being my spy. She’s great at this. She and Bucky hit it off after the coffee shop meeting (and while they all waited in the ER waiting room for me to be cleared of concussion). Swapped numbers, and they’ve met up twice – once for coffee (without me there, so it was a lot cleaner) and then for dinner and a movie. She came round after the coffee, and before the dinner, to fill me in. They’ve been texting apparently and sometimes she sends me screenshots. It’s all very sweet and sickening and normal. I want sickening and normal. Ugh.  While she’s snuggling up to Bucky, she’s also sounding him out about Steve. He’s single apparently, is very sweet and respectful, and a bit of a knight in shining armour. He’s also, according to Bucky, a jerk, reckless, and the world’s expert in waiting too long for love. None of this makes my crush any less soul-destroying. I feel like I’ve had a building dropped on me.

So that’s why it’s Saturday night, and Nat is out with Bucky again, and I’m sitting by my open window, staring at the skyline and indulging in some major self-pity.  At least I have company tonight.  Not human company, everyone I know is out actually living their lives instead of burying themselves for shame, but the apartment cat has decided to visit.  She belongs to the super, but she obviously sees the building as her own, so if the window’s open, she’s up and down the fire escape and sniffing around to see what there is to eat.

I’ve given her some tuna, even though she’s too tubby, just so she’ll sit and I can talk out loud for a change. She’s got tuna, and I’ve got wine. Or I did. The bottle seems to be surprisingly empty, so I can only assume the cat’s helped herself while I wasn’t looking. Only possible explanation.

So here I sit, less than sober, let’s say. Cat is on a cushion next to me purring, and I’m leaning out the window listening to the sounds of the city and blathering on about my failings and my crush. I’m all why can’t I be normal and cool like Nat? and nobody likes me the way they like Nat and he’s so hot and all muscly and has lovely eyes.  You know, eloquent. Anyway, the cat’s obviously had enough of it after the first hour or so, because she gets up and looks at me with disgust, then hops out the window onto the fire escape. She never even said thank you for the wine.

I’m kinda hanging out the window, rubbing my fingers together and doing that ‘pss pss’ thing that people do so cats can ignore them, and she walks away. She walks along the short length of fire escape that separates my window from apartment number four. That separates my window from only the window of Steve flaming Rogers, and then. She. Walks. In.

I swear she looks back at me before she jumps down, and winks, but anyway, she walks into his open window that is about three feet from my open window. The window I’ve been baring my soul through, at an alcohol-enhanced volume.

Oh sweet Jesus, let me die now.  I can feel cold sweat trickling down my back, and my spine is tingling as embarrassment runs up and down it.  Maybe he left his window open before going out on a date with some beautiful woman. I mean, Bucky said he’s reckless. Leaving your window open in New York is pretty reckless. Maybe he’s eaten something really bad and spent the whole evening in the bathroom. That’d be good, right? Not so much for him, but for me. Maybe he’s secretly deaf and has been doing some amazing lip reading this whole time. Work with me here, make me feel better.

As quietly as I can, I close my window and walk to my bedroom. Then I lie down, pull the duvet right over my head, and scream.

So here’s the thing. I love the city at night. I know that orange glow from street lights is just light pollution, and the sound of police sirens is probably a bad thing, but it just feels cool. Like I’m living in some movie. So I like to sit by the window on warm nights and soak it in. I love the feeling of breathing in that sun-dusty evening air. I had bad asthma as a kid and there’s still a pleasure in taking a big breath in. Saturday nights are good for me, I’ve relaxed from the previous week’s work, but I don’t have to gear up for next week yet, so it’s the sweet spot where I can be me.

According to Bucky, I should be out clubbing, drinking, meeting women, but I’ve never been that guy. I’m waiting for the right partner, and I’m just not ready for what Bucky gets up to. Not that he seems to these days. This Nat seems to have got to him. Can’t say I blame him, she seems nice, and she’s pretty, but she’s a bit too perfect. Seems to have a lot of walls in place so you don’t know if you’re seeing the real her. Bucky’s having fun, but I want real… I want someone who’s just themselves, even if that’s not perfect. God knows, I’m not perfect, but I try to be a good man, and I just want someone to make me smile.

Sheesh listen to me. This is why right now Bucky is out with Nat, and has just sent me a blurry picture in a text that could either be him dancing, or doing something I don’t need to see. And me, I’m sitting here, wrapped in a blanket like I’m 95, and sketching by the window.  I’m also quite far down some beer that I forgot I had, and I can’t quite make out the number of bottles on the floor, but it’s more than one, and they’re mostly empty. I don’t get tipsy easy, but these ones must be stronger than normal, because I’m losing track of time, and the world’s a bit blurry and I’m half-asleep when a sound snaps me back to myself. It’s a voice from next door. THE voice from next door. The one I’ve found myself thinking of, and unable to think of an excuse to hear it.

And then my brain tunes into the words, and I could kick myself.

‘Ugh, Cat, why can’t I be like Natasha, then he’d like me…’ and ‘ I’m a walking disaster, nobody wants that, that’s why people want Nat’ and ‘God those muscles of his kill me. Can you imagine, Cat… hey, where are you going, psss, pssss’.

Then this cat appears, walks in, knocking over a bottle that slowly trickles beer across the floor, then stands on my leg, looking at me pointedly. That’s when I look down and realise what I’ve been doodling in my sketchbook while half-drunk.

Her.

Apartment 3.

There’s a picture of her the first time I saw her, lying on the floor, with her hair all spread out like a mermaid. If mermaids lived on land and had big streaks of dust on their faces.  Her eyes were all shiny then, then she got this beautiful flush that made me think all kinds of things my Mom wouldn’t approve of.

Then there’s a picture of her with a bag of groceries in her arms, which made me feel all old-school manly and protective, like I wanted to say ‘allow me, ma’am’ and carry things for her. Maybe she’d even hang on my arm and tell me I was a proper gent for that.

Ahem. There’s a picture of her when her skirt was all caught up, and I swear, I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t work out how to say it without it sounding really inappropriate, so I was just about to call out something when Bucky clamped his hand over my mouth and pulled me outside.  Still, this one’s giving me less than gentlemanly thoughts.

I haven’t sketched the time my knee kept bumping into hers under a table, while she chatted, and I swear I could have stayed there for hours because she just lit up when she was talking. There’s no sketch of when she walked into the door and I ended up half-carrying her to the ER because she said she kept seeing stars, and she was just so warm.  

Yeah, I’ve got to admit it, this is why I didn’t go out with Bucky, or anyone else.  I haven’t seen her in two weeks and I really just wanted to hang around in case I did, because she’s adorable.

But, here’s the killer. As always, she’s taken with Bucky. I swear it’s been the same since we were kids, even when he set us up on double dates, they were both there for him, and I was this asthmatic hanger-on.  She’s next door mooning over wanting to be Nat so she could be with Bucky, and how great he is.

I need to get some air. The apartment feels too small now, like I’ve suddenly grown two foot in the last five minutes. I shove my feet into some shoes, and grab up my keys.

Lying under a duvet is pretty boring after the first scream. It’s also too hot, so I crawl myself out after a few minutes and come face-to-face with myself in my mirror.  Bangs stuck to my forehead with sweat, one eyebrow half gone, a wine-flush in my cheeks, and wine-stained lips.  Maybe it was better under the duvet.  

But I want out, for a few minutes. I want to go buy all the ice cream that I can, so I can indulge myself fully. I need some air, so I shove my feet into some shoes, and grab up my keys.

-----

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[haloud]

any other rose

ao3

With Dad in a coma and Flint nowhere to be found, Alex takes a leave of absence from Roswell to check on the other ducks in this particular row. He goes alone, though Kyle offers to come with him, puffing his chest up like that jock he used to be, only this time it’s to protect Alex from theoretical threat, and it’s frankly fucking adorable. He doesn’t even tell Michael he’s leaving until he sends him a text at a rest area a hundred miles away to tell him he’ll be back within two days.

This is something Alex has to do for himself. He needs information, something more tangible than what he can read off his computer screen, before he declares open war. His family may be hateful to the core, maybe, maybe, but a lot can change in relatively little time, and Alex just—can’t keep walking blind not knowing who his actual enemies are.

As Flint so eloquently put it, Alex has always been the black sheep of the family. His brothers, well, they toed the line much more skillfully, and grew closer together because of it. When Alex sets out to track down his two oldest brothers, he first runs into a wall. The eldest, Harlan? His military records check out up until the very recent present, then he just disappears. Definitely concerning, but maybe he just turned into a doomsday prepper and is living in a bunker made out of nonperishable food somewhere in the Midwest.

Robert, in contrast, doesn’t appear to be hiding his tracks at all. His whole life unspools for Alex in a perfectly neat paper trail—which is funny, because Robert is the one who hasn’t spoken to anyone in the family since 2013, making the possibilities frankly endless. Deep cover? Maybe, but his credit card activity is bland and consistent every statement Alex rifles through. A fight or falling out with Dad, Harlan, or Flint? Well, Flint doesn’t have the backbone to really ‘fall out’ with anyone, and if it was a fight with Dad then the old bastard would have taken it out on the rest of them tenfold. Harlan is a distinct possibility, but what might be so bad that both of them would drop off the grid, with Robert maintaining a convincing facsimile of civilian life?

No, there are two possibilities that Alex deems actually likely.

First: Robert is as neck-deep in conspiracy, murder, and torture as Dad and Flint, and he cut off contact with the family as a minimalization of risk. If one arm of Project Shepherd gets discovered, then a manufactured estrangement offers plausible deniability that the others had no knowledge of it whatsoever.

The second possibility has Alex pacing his floor at three in the morning more nights than he’d like.

(Why? Why? The world went dark around him as he stared at his computer screen with his hand over his mouth, staring at the name of a niece he’s never met. Aubrey Alexandra Manes. Why?)

A phone call would be too much warning, would give Robert time to hide or come up with a story. So Alex just finds his address, gets in the car, and goes searching for answers. What he finds is a simple ranch house six hours out of Roswell, one with a flag hanging from the porch and a slightly overgrown yard full of soccer goals and Barbie jeeps and other childhood detritus.

Maybe Robert knew to expect him somehow; maybe he just wasn’t expecting a car in the driveway at this time of day and therefore came out to inspect it. Either way, Alex doesn’t even make it up the porch stairs before Robert opens the door and brings them face to face for the first time in a long, long time.

“Alex!”

The shock would almost be funny, if Alex wasn’t bracing for either a punch or a bullet.

“Hey, big bro,” he says, curling his mouth in a deliberate smile. “It’s been six years since I got a courtesy Christmas phone call. What’s new in your life?”

Face thunderous, Robert steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him. “Cut the crap. Believe it or not, I’ve been following your career. I know you could find out anything you wanted about me, and hell, I know you probably did. So it’s you that needs to start talking.”

Alex nods pensively. Reevaluates. Strange, to be properly estimated by a family member. It is true, though—Alex never would have gone in blind, and the research he did produce some interesting results.

Six years ago, Robert stopped coming to holidays. He stopped picking up the phone. He made polite, manly excuses whenever their dad pressed him, but he made those excuses every single time. And what did Alex find when he went looking? A birth certificate for a little girl, dated 2013; immunization forms; preschool and elementary registration; another birth certificate dated two years later. Aubrey Alexandra. So yeah, Alex knows, as if the yard cluttered with toys wasn’t enough of a clue. What he doesn’t know is why, so that’s what he’s here to find out.

“What’re their names?” Alex asks casually. He keeps his hands still at his sides, empty and loose. Not a threat. He has no interest in making Robert fear for his family, and if he’s being generous, he knows that Robert has no more reason to believe Alex isn’t working under their father’s orders than Alex has to trust him.

“Hope and Aubrey,” Robert says, the like you don’t already know hovering understood between them. He takes a step forward and shoves his hands in his pockets, shrewd soldier’s eyes scanning Alex just as much as Alex scans him. It’s a little strange, more so than Alex expected, to discover that Robert actually is a stranger now, not frozen at eighteen and stocky and mean-spirited.

Robert doesn’t move forward like he’s making threats. He presumably came outside because he felt either surprised or threatened by an unexpected vehicle in the driveway, but he isn’t even wearing a holster. Not even the suggestion of a weapon on his person. Is he the kind of military father who locks his guns away? Their dad was never that conscientious—presumably because it builds character for a little kid to accidentally shoot himself; either that or he just assumed his boys were too scared to go near anything of his. A fair assessment.

But what is a fair assessment of Robert? Maybe he just thinks girls can’t handle exposure to guns—safer parenting, to be sure, but still indicative of a toxic mindset. After all, Robert would’ve gotten suspended three times for snapping girls’ bra straps if dear old dad hadn’t intervened every single time.

“And are they why you’ve been MIA all this time?” Alex asks, point blank.

“You’re going to have to tell me why you’re here before I give you any information about my children. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Fair.” Alex holds his hands up in surrender, then lowers them as Robert takes another step his way.

“Are you here because of dad.” The question falls flat, like he doesn’t really want the answer. Robert’s face is inscrutable, his tone still thinly pleasant, but something darker lurks beneath the surface.

“In a manner of speaking.” Alex tilts his head and looks his brother up and down. Robert’s put on a little weight since the photos Alex saw from his last deployment; he’s got laugh lines around his eyes. They’re all of them getting older, but Alex—once again wrong-footed, and he’s getting increasingly frustrated with himself—Alex never expected Robert to wear his age so openly. “I’m doing a little reconnaissance. You see,” this time it’s Alex who steps forward, “Last time I saw Flint, it was in a secret torture prison our father has been running for decades, and he had a gun to my head. Harlan appears to have gone off the grid, so one can only guess what’s going on there. Which leaves…you. I thought it was high time we had a little reunion, bro.”

Genuine shock flicks over Robert’s face, and his eyes dart up and down Alex’s body as if looking for injuries. He is a military man, however, so the emotion is quickly replaced with more grim impassivity. “What kind of information are you looking for? Are you in danger right now? God damn it, Alex, my family—”

“Aren’t home at the moment, and I will happily be long gone before they get back. This is about our family, not yours. Hope won’t need to be picked up from school until 2:30, and your wife takes Aubrey to Tiny Tots ballet classes after preschool from one to three every Monday and Thursday. No one knows I’m here; if you’ve really been following my career, you know I know how to cover my tracks. I didn’t come here to make threats, Robert.”

“Then why are you here? You seem to know pretty much everything already.”

Alex feels a pang of…actual guilt at the fear lurking on Robert’s face, in his defensive posture, in the way he clenches his hands compulsively in his pockets. Rattling off his kid’s routines like that…might have been an excessive show of force, and Alex grimaces at himself. Robert is a soldier, sure, but somehow…somehow Alex forgot that not everyone has been unraveling earth-shattering revelations for the past year. He dug into Robert’s life remembering the dick who did shit like flushing his toothbrush down the toilet and dying all his clothes pink because he was ‘basically a girl anyway, right?’, and he did it expecting to find yet another monster with Alex’s same blood pumping through his veins.

He needs to remember: high school. Ten years to the left. Alex nods sharply to himself. He went about this the wrong way—it’s a reunion, not an op. If it goes poorly, he walks out of here with better knowledge of his enemy and the exact same amount of family he walked in here with. Nothing to lose.

“I just needed to see for myself, I guess. The reason why you haven’t even talked to dad in over half a decade. Or me. I don’t know about Harlan and Flint, but I’m guessing they’re getting the same treatment?”

Robert thinks for a minute, then he jerks his chin towards the rocking chairs squeezed into the corner of the narrow porch. “I’m not inviting you inside just yet, but I’ll get us some beers. We can sit out here and talk.”

Alex takes a seat in one of the rocking chairs and rests his hands on his knees. In between the two large chairs are two little ones, painted all kinds of crazy colors, sponge-stamped with bunnies and butterflies and dinosaurs. A pang of—something echoes deep in his chest. Can you be nostalgic for something you’ve never, ever had?

“Okay.”

Robert sticks a beer in Alex’s face. It’s already open; Alex sniffs it, swishes it in his mouth, holds it on the back of his tongue before swallowing. Well, if Robert was keeping undetectable poisons around on the off chance he got to slip it into Alex’s drink, he probably wouldn’t be walking around without a gun. Alex takes a real swig and waits for Robert to start talking.

His brother doesn’t look at him, just stares into the middle distance as he says, “You might remember Alanna, my wife. I think you met her a couple times.”

“Of course. Dad didn’t ‘approve of her family,’” Alex says with a thin, sarcastic smile. The real reason, of course, is that Alanna is black, but Jesse would never be so uncouth as to say something like that outright. No, it’s always dogwhistle central with that man.

Robert snorts and spits in disgust, the largest show of emotion he’s displayed since Alex pulled into the driveway. “Yeah. Fucking hell. You and I both know how deep Dad’s hatred runs. For everyone and everything that doesn’t march to his fucking tune.”

Alex folds his hands in his lap and does a terrible job of keeping the knives out of his voice. “Of course. I just wasn’t sure how you would approach the topic. Of hatred, that is, since I was the only member of the family not invited to the wedding.”

It’s surprisingly difficult to get the words out. How many times is he going to have to go through this? First with Flint, now…Robert may not have pulled a gun on him (yet), but it’s still a piece of Alex’s soul that gets chipped away bringing up this old pain. ‘Don’t you ever get tired of being the black sheep,’ Flint said, and the answer is, frankly, not fucking likely, considering the standards set by the other Manes men past and present. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to be alone, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel the lump in his throat and the pain in his chest when he saw the wedding pictures on Facebook and realized he was deliberately excluded.

Alex clenches his fists on top of his knees and gets pissed at himself for showing even that much of a reaction.

Robert cuts his eyes away, clenching his jaw. Finally, he says, “Fuck. God damn.”

“No, I get it.” Alex forces a laugh. “Couldn’t have the gay gaying up your big day. We’re not here to talk about me. Forget I brought it up.”

Shaking his head sharply, Robert says, “I’m airing old shit, and I’m doing it once, then we’re getting back on topic. I didn’t invite you to the wedding because Dad already invited himself, you had just gotten stationed far away from Roswell, and I didn’t want to put you back in his path. That’s the sum of it. End of story.”

An ugly laugh, a real one this time, busts out of Alex’s chest. God, that’s even more rich than Flint’s bullshit about protection!

“I’m serious,” Robert snaps. “’Lanna opened my eyes to a lot of shit, okay? I won’t pretend I was some kind of amazing fucking ally back then, but I wasn’t afraid of your gaying, got it?”

And Alex wants to fight back. He does. He’s still owed a fucking pound of flesh. But in the back of his mind, he thinks—Aubrey Alexandra. And it gets him back on track. It even lets him see the humor, because, come on, Robert saying gaying like that is pretty fucking funny.

“Okay. Apology accepted,” he says, one last snark because Robert never actually apologized, and the way he looks away again says he knows that. “Tell me more about Alanna.”

“Right. Well. So anyway, she knew what she was marrying. Dad gave her the fucking creeps, but she married me anyway.” He fiddles with the label of his beer and quite obviously tries not to smile. “And we did the happy family thing for a while. I was deployed; the distance was hard. She felt a lot of pressure to be the right kind of military wife, but she had zero support. I was wrapped up in myself. The missions, the medals. I was a shitty husband, a shitty partner.” He drains his beer, then stares at the bottle like its emptiness is a personal betrayal. “Between deployments, she gave me the ultimatum. Couples counseling—completely non-military—or that’s it.”

“You went to a therapist?” Alex blurts. Robert? The guy who would lurk outside the guidance counselor’s office and trip kids if they came out crying? Maybe Alex should have done a deeper dive into whether or not Robert could have had alien contact.

Robert snorts and shakes his head. “I deserve that. God I was an absolute fucking cock as a kid. And as an adult. But Alanna gave me something to fight for, and damn if she didn’t push me to fight for it. I don’t know. I didn’t understand half the crap the shrink said. But I listened. Followed orders. Not so hard.”

“But you still had some contact with dad in that time. You didn’t go radio silent until several years after you and Alanna married.”

“He’s not an easy man to say no to. When his number would come up in my phone…”

Robert’s jaw clenches hard and tight. Alex hopes he has good dental.

“I always picked up. Autopilot. But the shrink helped me realize trying to be like Dad was…well, in real terms, ruining my fucking life.”

Damn. Alex is gonna find this therapist and send an annual fruit basket.

“And then Alanna got pregnant?” he prompts; Robert nods curtly.

“Changed my whole life. Scared me shitless, too, I don’t mind telling you. I was just working out how fucked our whole upbringing was, and now it was my turn? God.”

“So that’s the story? That’s why it’s been six years since you acknowledged any of us?”

Robert looks at him dead-on for the first time since they sat down. He looks like Dad. He really does. The same squarish face, the same thin mouth, the same soldier stoicism. But there’s a softness in the next words he says that Alex never once heard come out of their father’s mouth, and it shakes something in Alex’s very core.

“I got kids of my own now, man. And I work with kids too, or around them. Eighteen, nineteen years old. And I think about how dad treated us. I’m not exposing Hope and Aubrey to that. Not ever.”

“Good reason to avoid Dad, then. But what about the rest of us? Harlan, Flint? Me?”

Shrugging, Robert says, “I talked to Harlan a while longer, since we were closest as kids. But he got weird, man, I don’t know. And Flint…ended up I couldn’t trust him one bit. If I talked to him at all, he’d hand the phone over to Dad, and I didn’t want this shit getting that messy.”

“And me?”

Aubrey Alexandra. A little slice of Alex’s world has been disorienting and surreal ever since he read that name. Aliens are one thing, but having a niece that’s carrying his name—Alex doesn’t know how to live in that world. He has to hear it out of Robert’s own mouth, this brother he didn’t know he had at all.

A huge sigh gusts out of Robert’s chest. He goes back to staring into the middle distance. It’s a long while before he says, “I told you already that I’d started realizing Dad was fucked up.”

He cuts off there like there’s something physical blocking the words, and Alex waits for him to continue.

Finally, he says, “That was a hard thing to come to terms with. I always thought Dad was what made us into men, you know? If times were hard, well, they had to be, to toughen us up. But it turns out Dad was just an abusive fuck. So then what good is any kind of lesson he ever taught us? What good is being any kind of man he’d be proud of, when I’ve got ‘Lanna and two baby girls I could be making proud instead?” He sighs heavily. “So that’s why. I wanted them to be proud of me, and there’s nothing to be proud of in the way I treated you. The way I let you be treated. I thought about calling you up, but I was too damn cowardly to dial the phone, and somewhere along the line I convinced myself it would be better if I just let you live your own life without fucking bullies sandbagging you.”

Alex takes a moment.

In that moment, Robert runs his hand over his close-shaven skull three times. He bounces his leg, stops himself, and bounces again. He brings his beer up to his mouth like he’s forgotten already that it’s empty.

And Alex just…breathes.

Flint carried his orders like absolution so he could sleep at night. With Robert being such an unknown after six years of radio silence, Alex thought he was prepared for all eventualities this reunion might come to, but turns out he wasn’t actually prepared at all. Not for the reality of the two little rocking chairs, allowed to be bright and clumsy. Not for a version of his brother that sees the world with open eyes.

“You going to say anything?” Robert finally says gruffly.

“I saw Aubrey’s birth certificate when I researched you.” Alex swallows and tries to wet his throat with the beer, but it’s gone flat. Ugh. Still, he won’t back down. “Aubrey Alexandra.” Saying the name out loud chokes him up, just a little bit, and he forces it back down like he learned to do a long time ago. “You could have just called me.”

Robert ducks his head to hide his own too-bright eyes, and that sheepish, honest gesture cracks deep in Alex’s chest to feed some very small, very young part of him.

“Yeah,” Robert mumbles. “I know I should’ve—asked you. Or just not. But I was all emotional ‘n shit. It felt right at the time.”

“All right.” Alex shoves his emotion unceremoniously aside. He has the information he came for, so it’s once more time for action. The fact is that no matter how skilled Alex is at covering his tracks, his presence has the possibility of putting Robert’s family in danger. Until Dad is dealt with for good; until Flint and Harlan are neutralized; Alex can’t be a part of his brother’s life, or his wife’s, or the lives of his nieces.

Something else to fight for, then. As if he needed more motivation.

Alex gets swiftly to his feet, and Robert mirrors the motion.

“You’re leaving?” He blurts out, and something like grief, chased by acceptance, runs across his face. God, Alex almost wants to do a double take every time he sees honest emotion in eyes like those. But it’s time he gave credit where credit is due.

“I should,” Alex says. “I promised I wouldn’t put your family in danger before I heard your story, and I intended to keep that promise no matter what you said to me. But now it is imperative that you listen.”

He puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder for what may be the first time in their entire lives. Robert swallows.

Alex says, “Do not change a single thing about your routine. Do not tell anyone I’ve been here. When it’s safe, I will contact you—and at that time, it’s your decision if you want me in your children’s lives or not.”

He can see every single question in Robert’s face. Pride and anger tense him up, but, miracle of miracles, Alex also gets to watch him let them go.

Fruit basket. Seriously. Maybe an Edible Arrangement, for the actual miracle worker.

“How much danger are you in?” Is all Robert demands, voice still gruff with emotion.

“No more than usual. Don’t you know I love to live dangerously?” Alex says breezily, but Robert doesn’t unclench. Great, just what he needs—another person in his life taking his safety seriously when there are things that need to get done. Alex gives a fond roll of his eyes and lets his hand fall off Robert’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says, honestly, as Robert follows him off the porch and to his car.

“Pretty sure you don’t get to thank me for anything ever. I basically owe you for life.”

“Well, then, get started on your debt and give me that ‘you’re welcome’ you owe me just now.”

“You’re welcome.” He hesitates, swallows a couple times. Then he raps the top of Alex’s car and chokes out: “Drive safe, kid.”

Alex drives home in a different world than the one he drove up in. He barely notices the miles fly by, and when he gets home to Roswell, everything still looks the same, no matter how impossible that is.

Still, life goes on. A week later, a letter comes for him at the base. The return address makes him furious—how’s Robert made it this long if he can’t follow a simple order for his own good?—but he can’t hold onto that anger as soon as he sees what’s inside.

The thick envelope contains three sheets of paper and a fridge magnet—just a generic #1 Uncle! design, but it still hits him hard right in the chest. The first page of the letter is covered in small, need script he doesn’t recognize—Alanna’s, most likely. The next page he unfolds is covered in a child’s deliberate print, and he puts that aside too, gently, reverently, so he can read it later and savor every word. The last page is covered in drawings, big and bright; god, he’s gotten more medals than he knows what to do with, but he’s never felt as honored as he does now by the fact that clearly Aubrey busted out a brand-new pack of markers for this. And the magnet—he’s going to put these on his fridge, like that’s something that exists in his life—and now it does, this part of his family he thought was closed off to him forever.

And his world is different now. A little brighter, a little bigger, a little fuller.

Now all he has to do is protect it.

[fatandnerdy30]

The Itsy Bitsy Spider 19

A big thank you to everyone who has reblogged this story, commented and everything!! I love all of you!!

Tony chose that moment to step forward, a strange look on his face. "That will not happen if I can help it," he groused. "But, you did good for your first try, kid. You even handled that sticky shit pretty well." Peter grinned and blushed. It seemed he was doing that a lot today. "Tests are over for today." Mr. Barton put Peter on his shoulder. "How about we order something in and take it outside?" He glanced at the happy face of the kid. "I'm getting a little cabin fever, and Morgan should be home by now, right?" Steve frowned. "I don't know. I'm still a little wary about bringing the kid outside, even if it's on the compound grounds." "Come on, man. We can't keep the kid locked up here like a prisoner! His aunt already thinks we do that now. Let the kid get some fresh air. We have all the soldiers on the grounds, plus we have all the weapons that were meant to shoot anything down that we say is a threat." "It's okay, Mr-I mean Uncle Clint." The man grinned. "If it's for safety reasons, we can stay inside." Peter was a little bummed out about not even being allowed on the grounds, but he understood. Somewhat. "No," Tony said said suddenly. "Bird brain is right. We all need a little relaxation, and think of all the nature that will be out there. And plus, I can't wait to see Peter here playing pretty pink princess with Morgan in the sunlight." He grinned at the boy who groaned and hid himself behind Clint's head, peeking out from behind the man's neck. Even Steve chuckled at that one. "All right. As long as we all go and we're on guard. We all know how badly Hydra wants Peter back, so be on your guard." Sam saluted the man and smirked. "Yes, sir your holiness!" That earned him a punch to the arm and Sam winced, rubbing his bicep. "Ouch, Cap." "Who's Fury?" May asked, her head cocked to the side. "The once leader of SHIELD," Happy said before anyone could answer, making everyone look to him. "What? I listen to people." "Well, he doesn't matter, since he's not hearing about Peter until he's either normal again, or if he doesn't want anything to do with any of this once that happens, then we forget about him." Tony butted in. "It's up to the kid once he's normal. But, before we can fix him, nothing is said to Fury." Peter was confused. "But why? I remember reading about SHIELD in my history class. It said they did nothing but good things, protected people, kept peace. They even helped the people of Sokovia after the Ultron incident, which is so not your fault, Mr. Stark. You were only looking for a way to keep people safe." Steve grimaced at that and sent a look towards Tony, who shrugged. "That may be true kid, but once he hears what you can do and of your predicament, he will make sure Hydra's training will get done. Not in the same style as they would have used, but it will get done nonetheless." The billionaire knew Fury wouldn't care about the kid's safety as much as he would. He wouldn't take care of the kid if he got caught in a tight place, nor would he send anyone to Peter's rescue if he got himself caught. "Fury's a...well, he's a dangerous player in a not so dangerous game. Let's just call it that." He stuck his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing the kid off Clint's shoulder like he was itching to do. Lately when he found his hands were idle, he wanted to hold Peter. He didn't know why, but he enjoyed the feeling of the boy in his hands, knowing he was looking to the man as a...what? But, he already had Morgan, so he didn't need another kid. Right? Looking back at the small boy sitting on Clint's shoulder made a pang of jealousy ring through him. "Welcome to my world," May's voice cut through Tony's thoughts and he blinked. "Excuse me?" She laughed softly. "I see the way you look at him. He's found a way into everyone's hearts here, whether they know it or not. Which does make me feel like leaving him here would be the best thing for him for now." He looked back at the boy, love shining in her eyes. "I see the way he looks at everyone here, and especially at you." She sighed and started toying with the ring on her finger. "Peter...Peter hasn't had the best childhood." Tony's brow quirked. "Meaning?" "Meaning, he's lost a lot more than any other kid his age. His parents were killed in a plane crash while on a business trip, and his uncle Ben was shot. He died right in front of Peter." She sighed, the sound a little watery. "He hasn't had much luck when it comes to male figures to look up to. But, seeing him around so many good, kind hearted people who generally want the best for him, I can't help but be happy he's here. Even if he couldn't' call me." She gave Tony a half hearted glare. "Just, let him be himself while he's here." Her gaze then turned stee;y and she waited for everyone to pass before backing Tony into a wall, her finger pressed into his chest. "And if anything happens, and I mean anything, a scraped knee, bad dream, you call me or I will kick your ass. Do you hear me?" Tony silently nodded, licking his suddenly dry lips at the look in the woman's eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Justin Hammer smiled as he signed for his delivery, watching as his droid shells were brought in, reveling in their beauty. Crate by crate they were brought in by machinery, until a half hour later, the last one was dropped off. He waved to the men and pressed the button to close the warehouse doors. "Finally." Now he could get to work. Going to a metal crate, he used the code given to him by his new partner. The bots inside were beautifully crafted and waiting for his programming. Screw Toomes. Ever since the man had 'kicked' him off the little team he'd been planning on going behind their backs. Now, with Bloom his only employer and the only one he'd have to worry about being on his team, he had more room to work. He didn't have to worry about the feelings of some middle aged man in a bird costume. Oh, he still planned on using Toomes' family against him. Maybe he would bring him onto team Hammer, or when Justin got the job done, off the man's wife and keep the daughter for himself. He would let Adrian live, though, just to play with the man's mind in the knowledge that Justin had his Liz all because Toomes wasn't strong enough to get the job done. The thought excited him. Booting up his computers, Justin pulled out his flash drive and plugged it in. The screen flashed blue for a moment, then his logo came up and the password prompt came up. "Fuck Tony Stark," he said to the computer. A second later it beeped. "Welcome Justin." A monotone voice said. "Thank you, darling. Let's get started on programming these, shall we?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Peter sat in the shade of a tree, resting against the bark, eyes closed and just enjoying the breeze. He felt the rumbles as the giants moved around, but he didn't care. He was safe where he was. Suddenly, he was jolted out of his relaxation by someone flopping next to him, the wind of their body enough to practically blow him over. "Hi!" Morgan said in a chipper voice. "Mommy said lunch is here." The boy used his arm to get up and shake the debris out of his hair. The quicker he was back to normal, the better. He hated being this small, and yet he didn't. It was odd. "Okay." Peter stood up and wiped his pants when he felt the ground move and watched the girl get up, her shoes digging into the dirt to create little pits. She crouched down and offered an open hand. "Want help?" The teen smiled and shook his head. "No, I think I'm gonna go alone. Thanks though, Morgan." He gave her a soft look to let her know he wasn't mad at her. Morgan simply shrugged and got up, running over to her parents, falling into Tony's arms with a giggle. Again the jealous feeling came over Peter and he watched with a slight scowl before shaking his head. No. That part of life wasn't made for him. He wasn't allowed to have a father figure in his life for some odd reason. He was meant to be...well, not alone. He still had May.   The world around him suddenly turned black and Peter cried out when he felt gravity force him into the soft, leathery surface he was gripped in before the hand opened to reveal the worried face of Mr. Barton. "Hey there, little man. Why the long face?" Peter was still gasping for air after that shock, but he calmed down quickly in the soft gaze of the archer. "I don't have a long face," he said lowly, not meeting the man's eyes. "I was just getting ready to walk over for lunch." "Mm-hmm.....Listen, they don't call me Hawkeye for nothing, little man. So, how's about we get something and take it somewhere we can eat in private and you can talk to me." The teen was tempted to say no, because he was feeling stubborn today, but, looking back at a squeal of laughter from Morgan made his heart hurt and he nodded. "Okay. We got Thai, by the way. Your aunt said you really like Larb, so we got that for you. I know you can't eat all of it, but I'm willing to put more food in me if it means no waste." Clint chuckled and transferred Peter to his shoulder, walking quickly up to the group. "Hey, Pete?" Tony turned to see the boy on Clint's shoulder, casting a worried look to the archer, who shook his head. "We're gonna talk for a minute. You know, trade manly secrets. But, food first please. We're hungry!" Pepper smiled and handed the man two boxes, smiling softly at Peter. "Just don't spread too much testosterone around. I don't think the world can handle any more." "Will do. Let's go, Pete. Off to beat the drums around the fire and tell war stories!" May gave her nephew a soft smile as she was passed her box, blushing a bit and saying thank you. "Just be careful, okay?" Peter nodded while he laughed. Always count on 'Uncle Clint' the make him feel better. The archer walked in silence until he brought them to a shady bench, sitting and bringing a hand up for Peter to climb onto, setting him on the bench next to him. "So," he began, opening the box of Larb and making a face at the almost magotty looking contents. "Ugh, how can you eat this?" he asked, pushing it towards Peter. "Easy. Just don't think about what it looks like. Besides, I like that it doesn't have too much flavor, you know?" "Okay, I get it. So. What were you thinking about by that root?" Clint dug out his chopsticks, and placed a napkin next to Peter, who didn't have any utensils at all. The boy paused in grabbing a piece of chicken, then looked down as he transferred it to the napkin to cool down, reaching in for a grain of rice. "I wasn't thinking anything, honest." Liar. "Liar," Clint said, reading the word all over the boy's face. "I can tell you were getting upset about something, so either tell me, or I'm letting Tony know something's bothering you. You're always around him, so if you're more comfortable talking to him, I can go get him and-" "NO!" Peter yelled, startling the both of them into a moment of silence. "No," he said softer. "I can't tell him what's on my mind...it's dumb." "Kid, if you won't talk to Tony, then I'm your best bet. I know how to keep a secret." Clint smiled mischievously, making Peter doubt that. "It's just, whenever I see Mr. Stark with Morgan, and see the way his eyes light up with her, I get a little jealous. I've never had a father figure in my life...the one's I had were killed..." Peter's eyes stung as he spoke. "And I know once I'm back to normal, or as normal as I can be, that Mr. Stark is probably going to start ignoring me because I won't need anymore help to get around. And besides, he's already got his daughter. What does a kid with no blood relation have on that?" Deep down, Peter was already starting to think of the mechanic as a father figure, a protector....and he didn't want to shatter that illusion, but that's all it was. An illusion. Clint chewed for a moment, then spoke. "Kid, I doubt Tony's gonna start ignoring you. I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you? If he could, I swear he would adopt you in a heartbeat, but seeing as you already have your aunt, he doesn't want to pull your family apart. I know he's hurting because he can't send you home with May just yet, but he still offered her a place to stay if she wanted to. Tony, in a weird way, already thinks of you as a son, I think. And if you wanna test that theory, I suggest a little 'experiment'." Peter was stunned to say the least at what Mr. Barton had said, but was very intrigued by the experiment idea. "What kind of...experiment?" he asked, nerves heard in his voice. "Next time you're alone with Tony, just pretend to slip up and call him 'Dad'. See what his reaction is, and that will tell you the truth." "I dunno, Uncle Clint....it seems a little...weird, right?" Peter wasn't too sure about the plan. What if it backfired and Mr. Stark hated him for it? "Trust me, kid. It'll turn out alright. I know, I watch...like a hawk." He nudged the boy with the tip of his chopstick, almost pushing him over. "Get it?" "Yeah, yeah I get it, now get that thing away from me. You spit all over it!" "Oh, get over it," the archer laughed, but pulled it away. "Seriously, though, what do you think would happen if you accidentally called Tony that, anyway?" "He'd hate me for it." The teen said without missing a beat. Clint stared at Peter before laughing. "Dude, he could never hate you. I don't think anyone could hate you. You're too cute right now." Peter threw the grain of rice in his hands at the man with a laugh. "Shut up." "See? Even that was cute! But, do you feel better now that you talked it out with good ol' Uncle Clint?" Peter was about to say something when he stopped and thought about it. The jealous feeling he got was lifted a little and he felt lighter. "Actually...yeah, I do. Thanks Uncle Clint. I LARB you!!" "Oh God, never say that in my presence again, seriously kid. I may have to throw you out of a tree." "Already did that," the boy stated smugly as he took a bite of his chicken. "Kid, you and I are gonna have to have another talk." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I have to go now, Peter," May said, her voice cracking as tears filled her eyes. "Do you need anything before I leave? Maybe I can bring some of your books, or maybe your skateboard?" Now she was grasping at strings, almost as if she weren't allowed to come back without something for her nephew. "I'm fine, May." Peter stepped up to her and the woman lowered her hand for him to climb onto. Once he was situated, the woman rose and held Peter close to her bosom, her thumb coming to rub his back. "And you know you can come back just to visit, right? We already told you, I'm not a prisoner. If you want to see me, you can either call, or I can call you, or you can come any time." Peter looked back to see Mr. Stark nodding. "Okay. Just remember, I love you so much, Petey-pie. I'm glad you're here. Call me before bedtime and in the morning and once in the-" "May!" Peter laughed, hugging the woman's thumb. "If i call you that many times, you'll get sick of me. I'll call you before bed, okay? I love you so much. Have a safe drive, and we'll keep you updated on what's going on." May nodded and sniffled, bringing Peter's diminutive form to her chest in a hug, cupping the boy in her hands. "I love you too, Peter. Always." She then dropped a kiss to the top of his head, half of his face disappearing when she did. May turned to Tony and was about to hand him the teen, when Pepper stepped up and put her hand out for him. "We'll take good care of him," she promised the woman with a smile. "Thank you. For everything you're doing and have done." She looked to Peter, who was climbing onto the blonde woman's hand. "Remember to eat your vegetables every day, and change your underwear twice a day, okay?" "May!" Peter cried, blushing as the people around them snickered. "Okay, okay. Bye, Peter....." The woman wiped her eyes and walked out, Happy volunteering to walk her out. Peter watched her go with a sad face, his lower lip quivering. "This is for the best," Pepper told him, bringing him closer to her. "You'll see her again. And now you'll be able to call her, and when you're back to normal, you'll get to go home." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tony make a face. It was only for a second before he covered it up by picking up Morgan. "We gotta call it an early night," Clint said sadly. "We gotta go somewhere tomorrow and I don't know when we'll be back. So, we'll see you later, little man." He held up his pointer to Peter and smiled when he felt the kid smack it in a high five. "Be good, man." Peter smiled as most of the group left the room, leaving him, Pepper, Tony and Morgan alone. "So, who wants to watch a movie?" The man bounced Morgan on his hip. "How about you, little lady?" "Yes!" she shouted, giggling as her father made a face at her loudness. "Brave?" "Good choice. I always think the dad is like me in that." He grinned and started walking, but not before grabbing Pepper's hand and dragging her along. They got the movie set up and in minutes, both the children were out like a light. Peter was sleeping on Pepper's shoulder, his body curled up into her neck for warmth, and Morgan was stretched out over both of them. Both the adults looked to one another with loving smiles. "We need to have Peter here once he's back to normal," Pepper whispered. "I think I'll ask May if maybe he can spend the summers at the cabin. What do you think?" That got Tony to smile and nod. He liked that idea. He liked that idea a lot. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You've gotta be kidding me," Hammer said, clapping his hands once and laughing. Almost all the Avengers would out of the compound the next few days, meaning the target would be even less protected. "Oh, Tony...you've got a lot of nerve thinking you could hide him from me for long." He smiled as he programmed more of the code he was writing. He wished he still had Ivan to write the code for him, but he was out of the picture, even for his employer. So that meant he just had to bite the bullet and do it himself. Which he didn't mind, he was just used to having people do this for him. But, that wasn't the problem. The problem was getting into the compound before Toomes, if the man even knew. He enjoyed a challenge. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The computer was beeping as Bruce walked into his lab that night. He walked over to it and looked at the screen. He almost dropped his cup of coffee on his lap. Hank Pym had actually contacted him! He'd seen the encrypted message and wanted to know what was going on with Peter. The doctor clicked on the link and was brought to a video chat where Dr. Pym was sitting behind a large desk, white hair slicked back. "Hello, Dr. Banner," he said with a nod. "Dr. Pym, I am so happy to hear from you. I assume you got the message?" The white haired man nodded."What I would like to know, is how much you know about the serum?" Bruce sighed. "Almost nothing," he replied truthfully. "This Sean guy Peter has mentioned is a genius, I'll tell you that. The fact that he had your particles, but also could hide their structure and data even when having the serum in front of you, which I don't understand. I'm stumped, but then again, it is your research. I wouldn't dream of looking too into it without your say-so. My name isn't Tony Stark." The man smirked. "That's the only reason I decided to contact you, Dr. Banner." "Thank you again, for that. Is there somewhere I can send you the data-though it's not much-on the serum I've got?" Pym shook his head. "No. I'll need to see the boy, see what they did to him, see if it is possible to reverse what Sean did." The man then turned as if hearing something. "I have to go. Expect me there about....I'd say, a two weeks." "That long?" Banner said with a forlorn expression. "Well, I do have other obligations," the man said with a chuckle. "Plus, I'll have to have Scott go into the Quantum Realm to collect some healing particles from inside, and that takes time to prepare for." Bruce's eyes widened. "You did it? In that case, It will be a privilege to meet you, Dr. Pym. Can't wait to meet with you." "Don't expect it to happen often. The Stark's and I don't get along." And with that, the man hung up, the screen going dark. "What a shock," Bruce said to himself as he got up to go back to his work on the serum. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Adrian Toomes sat at his work bench, carefully soldering wires together when something caught his eye. He stopped what he was doing and spotted one of his daughter's field trip slips he forgot to sign. Tears came to his eyes as he grabbed the paper and unfolded it. It was for today. But instead of going upstate, she was stuck who knows where probably scared out of her mind crying for him. His eyes went wide as he read where the trip was for. The Avengers Compound. "Phineas!" he called into the large warehouse. Seconds later he heard something fall over, then footsteps running over to where Adrian was. "Boss? What's wrong?" "Nothing...I just need to know, is my suit fixed?" Phineas turned his head quick to look back at the direction where he came from. "Um, I think so, but there's a few bugs I haven't been able to sort out yet since it was damaged. I'd like to make it a touch stronger so that you can survive the kind of attack Justin brought you to." At that name Adrian scowled. "Yeah, well he knows where he stands since that shit show of a disaster." Then he looked to the permission slip. "What about anything to help with a silent mission? You know, sneaking into a building and taking something." "Well, yeah I do have some things for that, but it all depends on what building you're going into. Like the white house, I can't do." "No, not the white house. I was thinking of the Avengers Compound." Phineas' eyes got bigger. "No, no way, Adrian. I helped you once and you failed, almost getting yourself killed. I won't let you put yourself in that kind of danger again." Adrian put a hand on his shoulder, and smiled an actual smile at him. Phineas wasn't like his other associates. He was more of a keep to the background kinda guy, which is what he needed right now. "I'm not asking you to send me anywhere. I'll be sending myself. I'm just gonna need you to hack into Tony Stark's data and create a personnel file for me, that's all." Phineas laughed. "That's all? If I could do that, don't you think I would have done it already, Adrian?" He would have done it for himself so he could get in there and see what Tony had cooking in that lab of his. "Well, I need you to be able to do it by tonight. Find any way in, any way, and get that file created. Please...for Lizzy's sake. This is my only chance to get my family back." Phineas stared into Adrian's pleading eyes for a long moment before sighing. "I'll see what I can do. I'm also going to create a remote for your suit so you can call it to you from where you are. Only if things get bad, okay?" Adrian nodded and squeezed his friend's shoulder before turning away, letting the programmer go and tinker away.

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