#i just bought my second coffee of the day. i’m gonna get some syrups for cocktails and coffee. got a moka pot…

[stayatsam]

am i entering a manic episode or am i just thrilled to be spending my year-end bonus on things

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

Day 11: Walk the Dog - William ‘Ironhead’ Miller

Day 11: Walk the Dog- William ‘Ironhead’ Miller 

This story was requested by @oldstuffnewstuff​. Thank you so much for the request! I love writing for requests! Thank you for all the rebloggs, comments, and likes. :)

Also gonna tag @myathleteeggspizza​ for our love of William Miller. 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 10: Used Tea Bags - Javier Pena 

William ‘Ironhead’ Miller liked numbers. His whole life since leaving the military was run down to the exact second the way he wanted it too. He would wake up at 0600 daily, stretch for eight minutes, down his first cup of coffee, and go for an eight mile run through the park. Then he would return home, take a five minute shower, get dressed, drink a smoothie, fill his tumblr with coffee, and leave for the base at 0730 sharp. 

Every single day was the same. But, that’s what someone with as many demons as he had needed. The structure and security of the same routine. Not one minute unaccounted for. Until the day he met her.

It was a chilly November morning when he first noticed her. She had on a black leggings, a maroon crewneck sweatshirt, black ankle boots, and hair in a messy bun atop her head. She was sitting at one of the unoccupied benches near the Veterans statue, reading aloud a book to a golden retriever lying quietly with her head in her owner's lap. 

He faltered for a moment, and one minute became two, became three and when he looked down at his watch he cursed to himself. He was behind schedule. When he looked back up they were gone. He turned each direction frantically looking for the girl and the dog but they were nowhere to be seen. He wondered for a moment if he had only imagined it before the beeping of his watch drew his attention and he picked up the pace to make up for the lost time. Lost time, what a novel concept for a person who counted everything in his life. 

The next morning when he entered the park he couldn’t help but look for them as he ran around the path. Keeping his eyes open for the golden retriever and her alluring owner. Will couldn’t help the pang of disappointment at missing them again. The routine remained the same day in and out for another week before Will began to give up hope about seeing them again. On Saturday after his run he came home and left at exactly 0730 again but this time he was meeting his old army buddies for breakfast at a diner across town. 

The diner looked old fashioned amongst the new and shiny chrome buildings that had begun to pop up around town but it wasn’t the outside that mattered. Will walked in and the bells tinkled on the door to notify the wait staff, and he nodded at the familiar faces before finding his friends. He slid into the worn, cracked leather of the booth next to his brother, shaking the other two men's hands across the table. 

The waitress came over and brought him a steaming mug of coffee, two packets of sugar, and one creamer before going back over to her other customers. Frankie pointed to the cup before back at Will, “you come here way too often if they know exactly how you take your coffee.” 

“Every Saturday,” Will tells him smiling as he prepares his coffee, taking a sip of the liquid gold, “Gladys knows just the way I like my coffee, and my breakfast. Why ruin a good thing by going somewhere else?” 

Frankie laughs at him, “Some people actually like to go out and try new things. Are you still doing the same routine every day and doing that counting thing?” 

Will only nods before he’s interrupted by Gladys who takes their orders, not even bothering to ask Will before she goes off to put their order into the kitchen. “Thank you Glady!” Will shouts at her and she raises a hand in acknowledgment. 

“So how the hell have you guys been?” Santiago asks over the rim of his mug. 

Benny fills them in on his training, and his new girlfriend he met at a fight a few months ago. Frankie tells them all about the house he just bought and is slowly renovating and shows them some new pictures of his daughter Juliette, who just turned three the past month. Frankie made the single father life look flawless. Santiago was in town for the next two months on break from down in Columbia where he’d been helping the local military take down a drug lord. All of them had something new to share, something exciting, except Will. 

“So what about you Will?” Santi gestures to him as they all dig into their breakfast. 

Will cuts himself another piece of pancake off for himself before running it through the syrup, “The same shit as usual, run, work, eat, sleep. On Saturdays I come here for breakfast and on Tuesday and Thursday I help Benny with training and Friday night is usually fight night. Besides that nothing is new.” 

“Youshouldgetadog” the words jumble together out of Benny’s mouth as he tries to talk through the French toast pouring from his mouth. 

“Damn it brother chew your food and then talk,” Will laughs. 

Benny swallows before trying again, “I said, you should get a dog.” 

“A dog? Why the hell would I get a dog?” he asks. 

“Just hear me out brother, you love routines right? You run every morning and it seems to me that your a little lonely, a dog could go running with you, and keep you company.” 

Will contemplates the idea for a moment and his thoughts can't help but go back to the beautiful woman from the park with the golden retriever. “Yeah, maybe… do we even have any pet shops around here?” 

“Fuck pet shops,” Frankie tells him, “you need to go to the humane society and get a rescue dog, they are the best. Juli and I will even go with you, she would love to see all the dogs. How about 1300 today?” 

Will thinks for a moment before agreeing, “ok...but just to look. I don’t know if I am ready for a dog yet.” 

“Ok I’ll meet you there with Juli and we can go look at the dogs, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you go and fall in love with one and take it home today.” 

Will scoffs, “Sure.” 

When Will pulls his black 2014 Ford truck into the parking lot he feels slightly overwhelmed by all the animals running about. There is a large fenced in yard with exactly fifteen dogs of various shapes and sizes. When Frankie pulled into the spot next to him, he began to feel more at ease with a familiar face and when Juli came running full speed at him he couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. 

“Uncle WIll!!” Juli screamed tackling him into a hug. 

He swung her up into his arms and she squealed, “hello sunshine! How’s my favorite girl doing? Are you keeping your daddy busy?” 

“Of course! Daddy told me we're gonna help you find a puppy today? Can we get one too daddy?” She leans back in Wills arms and pouts at her father who crosses his arms. 

“I get the impression you and her had this discussion before you came today?” Will asks laughing at the exasperated expression on Frankie's face. 

“More than once,” Frankie nods to him before taking the toddler back, “Sweetie we talked about this, we are not getting a dog today, just Uncle Will.” 

Her face morphs into a pout and both men can feel the beginning of a tantrum coming so they deflect, “Let’s go sunshine! Don’t you want to see all the dogs?” Will leads the way into the shelter and when the bell dings as he crosses the threshold he stops. Frankie runs into his back before pushing the rest of the way inside. 

Sitting at a worn desk is the woman from the park. She’s wearing overalls with a white shirt covered in pink and yellow flowers. Her hair is pulled into a bun on top of her head but three long strands have slipped out and are dangling in front of her face. She’s wearing dark rimmed glasses, and has her nose buried in a book. On the ground under the desk, sticks out a wet black nose of a golden retriever snoring. 

Will coughs lightly to draw her attention and she snaps her head up and seems slightly startled. “Oh hello! I-” she puts her bookmark in her book and the dog rises to its feet, noticing the new arrivals, “Welcome to the Dog House, uhm how can - how can I help you today? She stumbles over her words, and a blush rises up her neck. 

“Hhh-uhm hi,” Will’s arm rises up and he scratches the back of his head, “Dog...I’m looking for a dog.” He can’t keep his eyes off her. The girl he had spent the last couple weeks thinking about, was right in front of him. 

She giggles, “Well then you’ve come to the right place, I’m Andy, you can follow me.” 

Will follows her like a lost puppy...no pun intended. Frankie just watches the two of them, smiling to himself. It’s obvious that Will likes this girl the way he’s acting if only he could see her looking at him the same way. Frankie keeps his thoughts to himself and follows behind the two. 

“What kind of dog are you looking for? Something big? Small? Athletic? Lazy? We have all kinds here.” she asks, gesturing around to the cages as she leads them to a small enclosed area outside. 

“I like to run, in Aveley Park over on 140th street, and I would like a dog to run with. I’m Will by the way,” he offers her his hand. When they touch they both feel a surge of electricity and they don’t let go, continuing to shake hands until Frankie not so subtly clears his throat.

She blushes deep red, and quickly drops his hand smiling shyly at him, “That’s where I like to go with Benny! We go almost every morning for a walk and then I usually read. My sisters have been in town the last couple weeks so we’ve been going in the evenings lately but they’re gone now so maybe I will see you some morning.” 

“Oh uhmm, whose Benny?” Will asks, he didn’t notice a boyfriend last time he saw her. 

“Oh my dog!” she gestures to the dog that has been slowly following between them. 

From behind, Frankie lets out a snort. Will glares at him before meeting your confused expression. “Benny is my brother's name…I guess he and the dog have some things in common. My brother is kind of like a lovable golden retriever.” 

She laughs out loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he’s desperate to hear her laugh again. “Well maybe your Benny and my Benny should meet someday.” 

“I would like that,” Will tells her, smiling. 

The two just stand there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools when Frankie puts down Juli who's been squirming in his arms. She toddles over to the dog and begins gently petting his head, his eyes close and his tail wags and everyone laughs watching the adorable toddler and the dog. 

“Ok,” she slaps her hands together, “athletic dogs, good for running…” 

“Maybe one a little older?” Will hesitantly asks, “I don’t run as fast as I used to.” 

“You know I think I have the perfect dog for you,” she walks over to the kennel and comes back with a gorgeous chocolate lab. Will drops to his knee and gestures for the dog to come and sniff him and he does so without a second thought. 

“What’s his name?” Will asks looking up at her. 

“Tom.” 

Will freezes and in his peripheral he sees Frankie frozen too, both of their eyes are on the dog. “What’s his name?” Will whispers. 

“His name is Tom, they found him wandering around six months ago, they think someone left him. He’s house trained, and very well behaved. We-what’s wrong? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost…” She looks between Will and Frankie. 

Frankie sniffs, “our old army buddy, he passed away a few years ago...his name was Tom.” 

“Oh...oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.” 

“I’ll take him,” Will tells her quickly, “how do I adopt him?” 

“Oh that’s wonderful! Come inside with me and we will get the paperwork all filled out, you can pay the $25 fee and he’s yours,” she places a leash around Tom and hands him to Will. When their hands brush he burns from her touch and she pulls her hand back. It’s not one sided. Juli and Frankie follow behind. Juli is more excited then everyone when Uncle Will tells her the dog is coming home with him. Just thirty minutes later and Will is the proud owner of a new dog. Frankie takes Juli outside to strap her into the car seat and head home. 

“I hope I’m not too forward, but maybe one morning we could go running together...I go for a walk there every morning like I said but for the right partner I could be persuaded to start running in the mornings.” 

“Actually...I would like to walk the dog with you tomorrow morning if you're free... it’s hard to get to know someone when running...then maybe I could take you out for breakfast?” Will feels as nervous as the first time he gave a speech. 

“Yes,” she doesn’t hesitate, “yes, I would like that very much.” She slips a piece of paper from her back pocket with her phone number on it, “I was kind of hoping you would ask. I wrote it as soon as you decided on the dog.” 

He laughs before taking the paper from her fingers, sliding the number into his pocket. He gently grasps her hand and presses a light kiss to her knuckles. “I can’t wait till tomorrow morning,” he tells her before walking backwards out the door. 

Frankie has already left with Juli and he loads Tom into the front seat of the truck, before getting into the driver's seat and buckling his seat belt. He pulls out onto the road and sits at the stop sign, Tom crawls across the seat and places his head in Will’s lap. He puts his head gently, before pulling out to go home, thinking about tomorrow with one beautiful girl, and two dogs. 

Day 12: It evaded me- 

[blackmissfrizzle]

Surprise

Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader

Summary: Miguel gives his wife a day of surprise. Based on this video and tweet.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Sorry if the smut sucks, I rushed through it lol.

Miguel leaned against the entryway of the bathroom, watching you carefully apply your mascara. His eyes roamed down to the swell of your breasts. You hadn’t put on your blouse yet because of you not wanting to get makeup on it.

“You���re staring,” you called out your husband when you finally became aware of his heated gaze. “What? Is it a crime to look at my wife?”

“Noooo, but it is a bad idea when both you and I have work to go to.” You took a break from doing your makeup and that’s when you realized that Miguel wasn’t dressed in his usual garb. He had on a simple black tee and jeans, an understated look but he still oozed power. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

Miguel ignored your question and leaned his hip against the counter. “Let’s go shopping, mi amor.”

“Shopping? We can’t go shopping. We both have to work.” What the hell was Miguel thinking? You two did not have the time for that. “What if I told you I cancelled all my meetings today and told your boss you couldn’t come in today?”

That sounded too good to be true. “You’re lying,” you accused in disbelief.  “Nope, we’re gonna go to Home Goods. Then we’re gonna go to Target. Sounds good so far?” The mention of Target made you stop what you’re doing and turn to your husband.

“Then we’re gonna get pedicures after.”

“What?” You gasped in shock. It’s been forever since you and Miguel got pedicures together. “Yeah, let’s go get pedicures. Yeah?” After that you closed your mascara, Miguel had your full attention now. “Oh! Mascara shut.” Miguel joked. “And then we’ll go to brunch. You want brunch?”

“Mimosas?” You whispered, already dreaming of the citrusy bubbles on your tongue. “Mmhmm. Order from the whole menu. Chocolate chip pancakes with a river of syrup. Bacon, hash browns.”

“Chicken tendies?” Miguel laughed at your name for chicken strips, you refused to call them by their proper name. “Yes, and chicken tendies.” As Miguel continued to name various foods, your breath got heavier in anticipation.

“And then?” You asked. “Whatever you want to do. Wanna go to Chick-Fil-A? Cookies and cream milkshake?”

“COOKIES AND CREAM MILKSHAKE!?”

“Yeah!” Miguel couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He loved how excited you were and that he was the one making it happen. “So, you wanna go?” It really wasn’t a question, but he just knew your answer would radiate with enthusiasm. “For real? Miguel, you’re not playing?”

Miguel grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. “No, I’m not.” You squealed and jumped in his arms before running to change. “But there is one condition.” He stopped you in your tracks. “What?”

“You have to wear this.” Miguel pulled out a maxi sundress of your favorite color. This man certainly had style. Running you snatched the dress out his hands and began changing. You were too enamored with the dress that you barely heard Miguel tell you to meet him in the driveway when you were done.

As soon as he saw you, Miguel thought a day in the house didn’t sound bad at all, but he had to shove those thoughts away. He had plans for his queen.

“Where’s Nestor?” You looked around for him, Marcus, and some of the others, but none were to be found. “Gave them the day off. It’ll just be you and me.”

It wasn’t Christmas. Both of yours and Miguel’s birthdays had already passed. Your anniversary wasn’t until a couple of more months. “What are you up to?” You eyed Miguel suspiciously. “Nothing. Now get in the car.”

Multiple times during the car ride Miguel thought of pulling over. In the corner of his eye, he would catch you rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some pressure. He listened to how you thought it was so sexy to see a man maneuver a car, but he didn’t think you would get this turned on. Now he would have to make more of an effort to drive around.

His day with you was a blast. At Home Goods he watched your head switch from Pinterest to the different aisles, trying to find the perfect items to complete your diy projects. Target was a bit more dangerous. You went down every aisle and almost bought out the whole store. “We don’t even need this!” Miguel would say whenever you would add whatever unnecessary item to the cart. It didn’t matter though, he still let you get it.

The nail salon was a ball. The nail technicians thought it was so cute that you and Miguel were getting pedicures together. Along with the pedicure you got a manicure. Miguel even picked the shape and color.  “I can’t wait to see those wrapped around my dick,” he whispered, enjoying you squirm as the nail tech painted your nails.

Brunch a whole new you came out. This specific restaurant was your favorite because they played the music you loved and had bottomless mimosas. Those two were a bad combination for Miguel’s hard dick, because those lustful glances from you were no accident. And the moans you made when you ate those damn chicken tendies mixed with a little bit of syrup had him sitting uncomfortably for the longest. But then every so often, in between bites you would look to Miguel, smile brightly, and tell him thank you. And just like that he was gushing all over you, ready to give you the moon and the stars.

Miguel opted to get the milkshakes at the drive-thru, but you didn’t mind, you had other plans in mind. However, Miguel surprised you when he went in the other direction of home. “Babe, where are we going?” Miguel grabbed your hand and rested his lips on it. “To your last surprise.” He said, not offering any more information.

About 45 minutes outside of town, an oddly familiar lake house came into view. “Miguel, what is this?” Your husband parked the car and ran to let you out. “This is your house by the lake, not too far from the city because you’ be damned if some Jason Vorhees comes out to kill you and you couldn’t get immediate help. There’s the front porch where you can sit and drink your morning coffee while you watch the sunrise. In the back, you have the deck complete with picnic tables and a master grill, where you can use and abuse your brother’s grilling skills while everyone else is talking, playing games, and dancing. Back here you can have your glass of wine and watch the sunset.” He wrapped his arms around you and jutted his chin to the second story of the home. “In the master bedroom is a window seat where you can get scared from the new horror book you’re reading while drinking your second cup of coffee. And most importantly there’s the dock by the lake, so you can go fishing because you refuse to get on a boat and become a Lake Placid victim.”

Verbatim. Word for word, Miguel described the perfect dream lake house you told him about years ago. It was dream that your dad had at first. He wanted to give his family a getaway spot that was yours to call your own. As your father daughter bonding time, you would search for the perfect candidate but could never find one. Then unfortunately, he passed before he could make that dream come true. In the little spare time you had, you resumed your search in honor of your father, but it was nothing but dead ends.

Tears were running down your face. You couldn’t stop them if you wanted to. “Mi amor, you don’t like it?” Miguel’s concern was growing. He couldn’t decipher if those were happy tears or sad tears. “No, Miguel I love it! I just don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Miguel pulled you into a tighter hug. “Oh honey, I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to get and keep you.” He grabbed ahold of your chin, tilting it up so you couldn’t avoid his eyes. “I haven’t been the best husband.”

“Miguel no.” How in the world could he think that? He pressed a finger against your lips. “Shh, let me finish. You barely see me anymore. We literally only say good morning and good night to each other. I’ve been too busy with the rebels and Potter. Plus, there’s the original work I already have. You taken over the development project when you have your own work to do. And you take time out of your day to take my mother to and from her appointments.” You tried to interrupt him, to tell him that it was no big deal, but he stopped you. “Ahh, I’m not finished. You do all this, go through all this trouble and not once have I heard you complain. This isn’t even half of what you deserve. So, no more talk about how you don’t deserve any of this. Entiendes?”

It was a troubling time. Half of the time you didn’t know where you found the energy to get out of bed, but you did. You had to. This was how you keep your family together. “Si.” You brought Miguel’s face closer to yours. There was the faint taste of mimosas still on his tongue. Reluctantly, Miguel pulled away, holding onto your bottom lip til the last possible second. “There are other husbandly duties that I have been neglecting.”

“Is there now?” A crooked smile graced your face. “Mmhmm,” Miguel scooped you up bridal style. “Yeah. I think we should christen the house.” He whispered conspiratorially like you weren’t alone. “I say hell yeah!”

Miguel ran into the house, running up the stairs, leaving a trail of your giggles. Tomorrow you would get the chance to explore more.

Once in the room, Miguel dropped you on the bed, causing you to bounce a little. He shed yours and his clothes in a hurry. To his surprise you weren’t any underwear. “Someone was eager, huh?”

“I had plans to screw you in the back of the car after mimosas.” Miguel took off your bra and tugged a nipple into his mouth. “Good girl.”

While Miguel’s attention was on your nipples yours were on getting his boxers off.  His dick sprang free and you wrapped your hand around it. Miguel relished in the feeling of your soft hand around him while he left kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “What are you doing?” He groaned into your ear, slipping in between the two of you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movement. “I thought you wanted to see my nails around your dick?” You whimpered, squirming against him.

“I do, but right now is about you. Do me a favor and suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” He tapped your fingers against your lips, and you slipped them in, mimicking the motions you wanted to desperately do to his dick. Satisfied with how wet they were, Miguel stuck his fingers in your welcoming hole. “Its so wet and warm, preciosa. I think I can fit another finger in there, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm, daddy.” Miguel added a third finger, bringing a delicious sting. “God, you’re so tight. I bet you taste even better.” Taking his fingers out despite your reluctance, he sucked on them, making you jealous that it wasn’t your mouth on them.

“Tell me what you want, baby. You want me eat that fat ass pussy or you want this cock?”

“Gimme your cock please.” It was no competition. You needed to feel complete and only Miguel’s dick could do that.

He scooted back some to line himself up. You caught a glimpse of his dick and badly wanted to suck it. It should be a crime that all that dick belongs to you.

Miguel slid his cock along your slit, gathering up some wetness. “Baby stop teasing please!” You whined, scratching against his forearms.

He lifted up your left leg to his hip and slid in, giving you those deep lovemaking strokes. “You take me so well, mi amor. Can you handle more?”

“Yes Miguel. Please give me more!” His slow strokes would leave you right on the verge of coming, but never actually getting you there and at this moment you needed to cum more than anything. “More, daddy! Please!” Tears were prickling your eyes.

With his free hand, Miguel swiped away your tears and began to pound into you. “Pretty girl,” he smoothed back some of your hair, his soft words contrasting his rough fucking. “You look like an angel taking my cock so well. You’re gonna be a good girl and cum over daddy’s cock, hmm?”

You nodded your head when you failed to form any words. “Nah, baby girl I need words. Tell me what you want.”

“I WANT TO CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK!” Miguel was hitting your spot repeatedly. “Okay, pretty baby, then do it,” he whispered, rubbing your clit.

Your body exploded with your orgasm. You were a quivering mess, but Miguel wasn’t through with you, he kept fucking you.

“Where do you want it?” Miguel asked through clenched teeth. “In my mouth, daddy. I wanna taste you.”

Miguel jumped off of you. “On your knees, baby.” Eagerly you got on the ground with your tongue out, enjoying Miguel stroke his glistening cock. “Oh fuck!” He cried out, throwing his head back in ecstasy as his cum filled your mouth.

When he finished, you jumped at the opportunity to clean his cock. “Shitttt! Just like that baby.”

He pulled your head back and laughed at your amused smile. “With skills like that, I’ll give you anything. What else do you want?” He carried you to the bathroom, filling the tub for a nice bath.

“Just you.” You sighed, leaning back on his chest.

“I can definitely do that and more.” Miguel promised to you and himself.

If you like what you read here’s my taglist and masterlist.

Tags: @starrynite7114​ @lilsmilez​ @blessedboo​ @marvelmaree​ @sambucky8​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @angrythingstarlight​ @richonne4life​ @brattyfics​ @lovebennycolon​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @woahitslucyylu​ @sadeyesgf​ @strawberrywritings​ @angelreyesgirl​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @spookys-girl​ @imanerdychubbyqueen​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @thickemadame​

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 3

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 5,000~ Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: panic attacks, implied past sexual abuse/exploitation, harassment

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

When you woke up sunlight was already streaming in through the kitchen windows. You blinked, shifting to stretch and flinching at the pain in your joints. You’d fallen asleep sitting up. Glancing down at the boy still laying on your lap, you couldn’t help but smile as you brushed his fringe out of his eyes. He nuzzled into your hand and whined, the sound more of a grumble because of his naturally low voice. You glanced up at the windows, eyes flitting to the clock on the wall. 

You sat bolt upright, a gasp leaving your lips. Yoongi was awake instantly, protectively leaning toward you while scanning the room for threats.

“What happened?” he said, words slurred together a bit from drowsiness.

“I’m late!” you leapt off the couch and sprinted into your room, door bouncing on its hinges as you tried to throw it shut behind you. “I need to open the cafe. Ugh, and the festival is starting today too!”

You paced your room, grabbing clothing items at random, already peeling off the things you’d fallen asleep in the night before. No time to wash up or do your full makeup, you thought, quickly tying your hair up in a messy bun. Hurrying to your bathroom you brushed your teeth and splashed some water on your face before applying mascara and a little bit of concealer.

“Yoongi, is my phone out there?” you called. He hollered back an affirmative. “Can you grab it and see if Jungkook has called? He’s supposed to be working today, I’m sure he’s wondering where I am.” 

You exited the bathroom, grabbing your top off the bed and pulling it on as you rummaged through the closet for your work shoes. 

“You have three missed calls from him,” Yoongi informed you, coming to bring you your phone. You didn’t see him as he pulled up short at the door, face going bright red as he saw you stumble across the room trying to pull on your black skinny jeans. He quickly looked away and pulled the door shut as quietly as he could.

 “Here’s your phone, noona,” he called through the door, still facing away. 

You pulled the door open, completely oblivious. “Thank you, Yoongi!” You leaned on his shoulder as you pulled your second shoe over your heel. “If you feel up to getting dressed and coming out front, I’ll introduce you to Kookie.” You peered at his face, noting the bright flush. “Are you feeling okay?” you asked, putting your hand to his forehead.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “You should go ahead. I’ll be out in a bit.”

You nodded, calling behind you as you headed out front, “Tell me if you aren’t feeling well. I’ll go buy some medicine.”

Yoongi let out a breath and tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed how good your butt looked in those jeans as you walked away.

When you emerged from the kitchen into the cafe you were shocked to find it open, with a few customers sitting and chatting at the small tables by the windows.

“Noona!” Jungkook greeted you cheerfully.

“Koo!” you responded, running over to wrap the tall boy in a hug. “Did you open by yourself this morning?”

“Yeah, I have a key. I figured you must’ve been really tired, so I didn’t bother you. Is that new guy giving you trouble?” Jungkook asked, concerned. “I was going to go break the door down if you didn’t come out soon.”

“Yoongi is great, though I appreciate the concern. You didn’t call Joon, did you?” you asked. He was already nervous about Yoongi staying with you. You really didn’t want another lecture about being too trusting.

“No,” he answered with a mischievous grin. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m not worried about getting in trouble with my little brother!”

That was a lie. Namjoon’s lectures were notoriously long, and being his big sister did not protect you from his scolding. Jungkook laughed knowingly at your denial.

“Yoongi will be out in a little while, I want you to meet him. He’s really sweet, but he’s quiet. I figure if he gets to know you before he meets the other boys he might feel more comfortable,” you explained.

“You mean I’m your favorite? The only one you can trust for the job!” he said, bunny ears twitching happily as he puffed out his chest.

“Yep! You’re the best,” you confirmed, getting up on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “The sweetest hybrid and cutest baby brother. Don’t tell Joon or Jimin.”

He nodded, grinning. Jungkook walked over to continue cleaning the espresso machines, as he’d been doing before you arrived.

“How’s business this morning?” you asked, washing the cups that had accumulated in the sink.

“Pretty quiet so far. It’s been picking up since about 9 this morning. That’s when people really started setting up for the festival.”

The festival was a new event for the area. For the rest of the week tradesmen, business owners, and artists would occupy the plaza and promote their various products and services. They also had a stage set up at the far end where local musicians would be performing. More traffic was expected for all the businesses in the area.

“It’s only Monday, the weekend will probably pick up a lot more,” you said. 

Jungkook nodded, going to restock some of the coffee syrups on the back counter. “Is Jimin-hyung coming in to help you tomorrow?” he asked. 

Jungkook was starting classes this semester at the nearby university, where Jimin was already a dance major. You normally worked Tuesday alone, since both boys had classes. But they’d wanted you to have extra help since you’d be busy with the festival. You didn’t want to make either of them skip class, so Yoongi coming to work with you was perfect timing. You’d meant to ask him if he’d be up to starting the night before.

“I think I’m going to have Yoongi help out tomorrow. Can you help show him around and teach him today? It’d be a good opportunity to get to know each other.”

“Does that mean I get to boss him around?” Jungkook asked, eyes twinkling. He got tired of always being the maknae.

“No, he’s your hyung, and I expect you to be polite.” You shot him a look. He pouted and your expression softened. You were never able to truly scold Jungkook.

“You’re gonna like him Kookie, I know it. He’s been through a lot. I need you to help me help him, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. You ruffled his hair, scratching his ears while you were at it. 

You both continued about your tasks until Yoongi emerged. He’d dressed in a similar way to you, tidyand all black. Whether that had been an attempt at matching the dress-code or because most of what he’d bought was black, you weren’t sure.

“Yoongi!” you greeted, waving him over. “Come meet my little brother.”

He walked over to join you. Jungkook looked him over, nose twitching. You watched as the two hybrids appraised each other, knowing they could communicate a lot without words. After a moment, Jungkook broke into a darling bunny grin.

“Nice to meet you, hyung! I’m Jungkook. We kind of met before, when you came into the shop,” he held out his hand. Yoongi took it and shook politely.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi.”

None of you knew what to say after that, the pause becoming a little uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you’ll be here to help Yeoji-noona tomorrow,” Jungkook broke the silence. “Jimin-hyung, the other guy who works here, and I have classes tomorrow. It’s good she won’t be by herself.” 

Yoongi looked at you expectantly.

“Right, I hadn’t been able to tell you yet. If you feel well enough, I could really use your help tomorrow. Jungkook and I can teach you the ropes today.”

“Yeah, of course,” Yoongi said, looking around the shop.

You spent the remaining part of the morning showing Yoongi where things were and teaching him some basic recipes that people ordered frequently.

“If you forget, there’s a book with all the recipes right here.” You opened a drawer under the espresso machines. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, so you can also just ask me. Mostly I’ll have you help me with dishes and keeping things stocked.”

Yoongi paid close attention, asking questions here and there. You let Jungkook take over the teaching when a new customer came up to the counter. The two were a little stiff, clearly cautious of each other for the moment, but they seemed to relax as the hours slipped away. You sent them back to the apartment to have their lunch, and when they came back their demeanor was entirely different. You looked between the two of them, clearly surprised.

“Did you know Yoongi-hyung writes music?” Jungkook asked. His face lit up like a little kid in a toy store. You nodded, smiling at Yoongi’s quietly pleased expression.

“I’d heard you play before, but I didn’t know it was your original stuff!” he said. “You’re amazing, hyung! Can you show me some of your work sometime?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi agreed. He ducked his head, not sure how to react to the praise. He seemed to think of something and his face fell. “My keyboard got wrecked, so I won’t be able to play you anything. Sorry.”

Jungkook looked at him sadly. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jungkook asked. Yoongi just looked at him, incredulous. You smiled proudly. That’s your boy.

“I can bring my keyboard from home!” Jungkook said. Yoongi looked at the younger man hopefully.

“Really? You’d let me play it?” he asked, unsure if he could trust the generosity.

“Yeah, as long as you let me listen!” he said, his smile making his nose scrunch cutely.

You worked quietly and listened to the boys chatter on about music and Jungkook’s schooling, smiling as it blended with the pleasant background noise of the cafe.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You set several alarms on Monday night so you woke up on time Tuesday. You had tried to make Yoongi take your bed, insisting you’d be okay on the couch, but in the end he took the couch. You puttered around your room, trying to be quiet and let Yoongi sleep a little extra while you showered and put on your makeup. Once you were ready for the day you poked your head out into the living room.

“Yoon?” you called softly, walking over to the couch. He stirred a little in his sleep, burrowing further into his blanket so only his eyes showed above it. You resisted the urge to pull out your phone and snap a picture. Instead, you reached out and softly shook his shoulder.

“Yoon?” you said again, a little louder this time. “It’s time to get up, we have to open soon.”

He blinked, peering up at you through his lashes and fringe. 

“Did I oversleep?” He sat up quickly and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “I set an alarm for the time you told me.”

He examined his phone to see why it hadn’t woken him.

“Ah, I set it for PM not AM.” He looked at you apologetically.

“That’s okay,” you assured him. “I wanted to let you sleep a little longer. I feel bad having you start working so soon.”

“I’m fine!” he said, rising from his spot and folding his blanket. “Do I have time to shower before we open?”

“Yeah, take your time. I’m just going to get a couple things set up. Come out whenever you’re ready.”

He disappeared into your room to get ready and you headed out front to get the cafe ready. You took all the chairs down off the tables, straightening decorations as you went. You pulled the blinds open all the way and turned on the string lights that cast the whole place in a warm light, hopefully drawing commuters to come in out of the frigid morning air.

Then you returned to the counter to make yourself a warm drink, making some cheese toast for you and Yoongi, and making him a warm latte with lots of whipped cream. As you finished his drink he emerged from the back.

“Perfect timing!” you said. “Come have breakfast before I unlock the door.”

He grinned, looking at what you’d prepared and gratefully accepting the warm beverage.

“I made you a latte this time, since you seemed to like cream. I hope that’s okay?” you asked, unsure if you should’ve checked first.

“Yeah, I think this is actually my new favorite,” he said, taking a big sip that left a bit of whipped cream on his upper lip. You giggled, pulling out your phone.

“Don’t move!” you said. He froze with his cup just inches from his lips, looking up at you questioningly. Right then, you snapped the picture. He heard the shutter noise and groaned.

“Noona!” he whined, surprising you with the cute behavior. “Delete that!”

“Absolutely not,” you said coolly, looking happily at the picture. In the shop’s soft lighting Yoongi looked absolutely angelic. He set his drink down and reached for the phone, but you dodged away from him.

“I’m keeping it!” insisted, holding the phone behind you when he grabbed for it again. You stifled a laugh when you noticed he still hadn’t gotten the cream off his lip. He frowned at you, closer to a pout than he would ever admit.

“Wait, wait!” you said, still laughing as he continued trying to grab your phone from behind you. “I’ll let you take a silly picture of me too. Then you can embarrass me with it if I ever show this cute picture to anyone.”

He paused his attempts and considered your offer. He must’ve realized he was unlikely to get you to delete the picture, because he nodded and pulled out his phone. Your drink didn’t have whip on it, so you took a sip of his, making sure to give yourself a mustache with it. Some of it ended up on your nose too. He pulled out his phone and took the picture, chuckling as you made dumb faces at him.

“Let’s take one together!” you said as he moved to pocket his phone again. He rolled his eyes, but quickly pulled out his phone and turned to stand next to you. He bent down a little and put his arm around your shoulder to pull you into the shot. You grinned at your picture on the screen, both still sporting whipped cream on your faces. He took several pictures and you convinced him to make a couple silly faces to match yours. You glanced at the clock in the top corner of the screen.

“Oh, I need to open the front door!” you said, realizing that it was three minutes past your normal opening time.

You hurried to the door, wrestling the keys out of your pocket. As you unlocked the door and flicked on the open sign, you missed how Yoongi smiled softly, scrolling through the photos you’d just taken. Literally seconds after you turned from the door, the bell jingled. You turned to greet your first customer of the morning and were greeted by a familiar heart-shaped smile.

“Hobi!” Your face immediately lit up with a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure, sunshine?”

“Morning, noona,” he said, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m making housecalls today, so I figured I’d drop by and get my caffeine fix on the way to my first patient.” He glanced up over your shoulder at Yoongi, observing the interaction from behind the counter.

“Hey there,” Hoseok called to him, walking to the counter with an arm still around your shoulders. Yoongi’s ears flattened, body tensing with anxiety as the man approached and you detached yourself from Hoseok’s side to rejoin him around the counter. You wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s waist and gestured to Hoseok.

“You guys didn’t exactly get an introduction before, huh?” you said, trying for a light tone. “This is my friend Hoseok. He’s the doctor that treated you-”

“I remember,” Yoongi interrupted, refusing to meet Hoseok’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok cut in abruptly. Yoongi glanced up at him, clearly surprised. “You were in bad shape and my priority was to get you stable. You weren’t able to give your consent for treatment at the time, but I know that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. You must’ve been scared. I sure as hell would’ve been. So, I’m sorry that you had to go through all that.”

There was a pause as Yoongi processed Hoseok’s words, seeming to scan his face for sincerity. In the end he just nodded, but you felt his thin body relax a little, ears cautiously sitting back up. 

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to start over,” Hoseok said, holding out his hand for a shake. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, but accepted the handshake. “I’m Jung Hoseok,” the boy said, flashing another 100 megawatt smile.

“Yoongi,” Yoongi answered quietly. “Nice to meet you.”

He broke the handshake and gave a polite bow.

“You don’t have to be so formal! I told you, your only hyung here is Jin,” you said, nudging him. Hoseok smiled wider.

“Let’s get along well, hyung!” he said, bowing to Yoongi instead. Yoongi blinked at you, confused by the show of respect, but he didn’t comment on it. Hoseok stood by the counter, chatting with you happily while you made his coffee. Once he got it he waved and got on his way, turning to wave again through the window before disappearing down the sidewalk.

You and Yoongi didn’t talk much, but fell into an efficient rhythm working together. As it got busier, you focused on taking orders while Yoongi helped wash dishes and keep the tables clean. Around three, Jungkook came by, his class having let out early. He offered to take over so Yoongi could go get some rest, but he gratefully declined. He seemed to be enjoying the chill atmosphere of the cafe.

You and Jungkook talked about his classes while you served drinks to the festival-goers passing through. The sun was hanging low in the sky, string lights illuminating the plaza outside. Your attention was drawn away from the drink you were preparing when a shrill voice cut through the soft chatter of the cafe.

“Kitten?” the voice said. “It is you! It’s my favorite kitten.”

You turned to see Yoongi drop the tray of dishes he’d been clearing, eyes wide as he looked at the woman who had spoken. She looked about thirty, though judging by the stiffness of her features that could be off by ten years or so. She had bleached blonde hair and unreal proportions. She towered over Yoongi in her heeled boots, and he backed away, bumping into the table as she stepped toward him.

“Where have you been?” she asked, completely ignoring his discomfort. “I’ve missed you! The club just isn’t the same without you. I asked and your masters said you must’ve gotten lost. They looked everywhere for you.”

You stepped out from behind the counter and headed toward them as the woman grabbed the tie of Yoongi’s apron and pulled him to her, grabbing his chin in her fingers and holding his face inches from hers.

“How could you leave me? I know I was your favorite customer,” she smirked, an almost predatory glint in her eyes. He refused to meet her eyes, trying to pull away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she tightened her grip on his face, making him wince and shut his mouth. 

You pushed a chair aside with a loud screech as you reached them. Your body moved before you could think, one hand clasping Yoongi’s white the other grabbed the woman’s hand in a vice-like grip. You pushed her away with more force than entirely necessary.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, glaring icy daggers at the woman. Yoongi kept his eyes on the ground. His whole body shook and his grip on your hand bordered on painful. You stepped in front of him protectively and turned to face the woman again. She had stumbled back a few steps, unsteady in her impractical shoes.

“What’s your problem b****?” she snapped. She looked from you to Yoongi, a wicked sneer spreading on her lips. “Ah, I see. You found a new girl to whore yourself out to? She must be desperate to settle for damaged goods. I pitied you, kitten. It’s only a matter of time unt-”

You were already walking away, noting with disgust that none of your customers had stepped in to help. Instead, they all avoided looking at you or Yoongi as you slipped back behind the counter and headed to the kitchen.

“Call the police,” you said flatly to Jungkook, who had been watching with an expression not unlike a bunny in headlights. He nodded, phone already in his hand. “Tell them we have CCTV footage and we’d like to press charges.”

You heard the woman splutter behind you, barking profanity before her footsteps retreated to the door. You heard the bell chime as she exited but you continued back through the kitchen and into the apartment. As soon as the door fell shut you turned to Yoongi, his hand still clutched tightly in yours. His eyes were still on the floor, staring into nothing. You guided him gently to sit on the couch. He refused to release your hand so you awkwardly used your free one to pull his favorite blanket around his shoulders.

“Yoon?” you started softly. “Sweetheart?” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze. His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“She- she- I was-” His eyes darted between yours, panic finally surfacing through the shock. “They’ll take me back,” he said, breaths coming too quickly as his body shook harder.

“No. No they won’t,” you said firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again and I meant it.”

He didn’t seem to hear you, so you placed a gentle hand on his cheek. He flinched away at first, but you waited until he looked at you before repeating yourself.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Yoongi. You’re safe with me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks, mirroring the ones that already fell on yours. He still gasped for air, and you recognized a panic attack when you saw one. Jungkook had them frequently when he first came to you and Namjoon.

“Sweetheart, I need you to slow your breathing down. Can you breathe with me?” He looked at you with wide-eyes, struggling to draw a normal breath. You took a deep breath yourself, loud enough for him to hear. He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to follow your slow inhale. You held the breath for a moment before releasing it, repeating the process for several minutes until he was able to follow. Tears continued to fall down his face, and he was still shaking.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” you praised, wiping the tears from his face. “What can I do? How can I help?”

He paused, seeming to hesitate as he drew another shaky breath. Then he moved forward, thin arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. You immediately wrapped him in your arms, petting his hair gently, continuing to take deep breaths as he kept following. After a while you felt his breaths even out, thinking maybe he fell asleep. Doing your best not to jostle him, you pulled out your phone. It had been almost an hour, and you quickly texted Jungkook.

You sighed, the last thing you needed was an overbearing little brother getting Yoongi worked up again. You switched to your conversation with Namjoon.

You turned to Yoongi, knowing you had to let him know Namjoon was on his way. The last thing he needed was an unexpected guest.

“Yoon? You awake?” He nodded against your shoulder, not pulling away yet. “My brother, Namjoon, is coming over to check on us,” you said softly. You felt him tense. “He just wants to make sure we’re okay,” you tried to reassure him. “He’s bringing us dinner. Maybe we can watch a movie?”

Yoongi pulled away from you and your heart broke again when you saw his puffy eyes, red from crying. He took a hiccuping breath, then nodded.

“Okay.” He seemed to ponder for a moment. “Is he mad?”

“What do you mean? At us?” you asked.

“At me,” he clarified.

You frowned. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“It’s my fault. Her making a scene and yelling. She could’ve hurt you. And it would’ve been my fault,” he said. You pulled him back into your arms, holding him tightly.

“Yoongi, listen to me. Nothing that’s happened has been your fault. You did nothing to deserve that kind of treatment. And everything that awful witch said was a lie. You are wonderful.” You punctuated the statement with a gentle squeeze before pulling away from him. He nodded, wiping at his face with a sleeve.

“Let’s get cleaned up a bit, why don’t you change out of your work clothes? Joon will be here soon,” you said, standing and heading to the bathroom. You washed your face and changed into some sweats. Yoongi went after you grabbing a fluffy sweater to change into. Just as the bedroom door closed behind him you heard a knock at your door. Namjoon stood on the step with a bag of food and two six-packs of beer.

“Chimaek!” he announced proudly. You smiled tiredly and let him in. He set the food on the kitchen counter and you immediately grabbed a beer and popped it open.

“That bad?” Namjoon asked, grimacing. You only grunted in response. “The police really won’t do anything?”

“If I ever see that b**** again, I’ll kill her myself. Then the police will get involved,” you growled.

“Not if I help you hide the body,” Namjoon said, opening a can of beer himself. You gave him a small smile and clinked your cans together.

Yoongi emerged from the bedroom then, bundled in his baggy grey sweats and a yellow sweater that gave him perfect sweater paws. You waved him over, pulling out a beer for him.

“I don’t think you two really met, did you?” you asked, not waiting for a response. “This is my little brother, Namjoon. Joonie, this is Yoongi.”

Yoongi bowed politely, and Namjoon glanced at you as he bowed back. “Nice to meet you. Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you when he got home last night. Sounds like you’re gunning for my spot as favorite hyung!” he said playfully.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said meekly.

“I’m kidding, hyung,” Namjoon said, laughing awkwardly. Yoongi looked up sharply at the respectful tone. That made two humans in one day speaking politely to him? What the hell was with these people?

“S***, is that too friendly? I just feel like you’re already family. Yeoji-noona mentioned you coming into the shop a bunch, so it’s like I know you,” Namjoon rambled. You shot him a look, but the words were already said.

“You mentioned me?” Yoongi asked, genuinely surprised, but happy.

“Yeah,” you said, a little shy at being called out. “I’d always hoped we could be friends, or something. And then with everything, I ended up getting to know you better.”

Yoongi smiled then, for the first time since the incident. His eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Namjoon watched the exchange with interest, letting the moment hang for a moment before interrupting it.

“Let’s eat! The chicken will get cold,” he said. 

“Chicken?” Yoongi said, excitement obvious in his voice, eyes sparkling with something very recognizable this time. Namjoon grinned, picking up the food and moving to the living room. You picked a movie and settled onto the floor so you could eat at the coffee table. 

By the time every bone was picked clean, Namjoon was on his third beer. You and Yoongi and you had finished off five each. To be fair, it had been a long day. You had all migrated onto the couch, Namjoon on one end, you in the middle, Yoongi on the other. As you watched the movie Yoongi naturally curled himself into you, head resting on your lap. You mindlessly played with his hair and he was out in minutes. Namjoon watched you, a smirk playing on his lips as he heard the purr rumble from Yoongi’s chest. When the movie ended, he shook you gently.

“Noona, you guys should get to bed. Your back will hurt,” he said. 

You nodded drowsily, waking Yoongi and pulling him to his feet. You dragged him along, shuffling into your room and tucking a barely-conscious Yoongi into bed. You returned to see off Namjoon, who was putting on his jacket.

“Don’t drive!” you said, ever the protective older sister despite being a little drunk and very drowsy.

“I called a cab.” He chuckled, patting your head. You scowled and brushed his hand away, then wrapped him in a hug.

“Thank you for coming, Joon,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Of course,” he answered, planting a kiss in your hair before pulling away. “Go to sleep, I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

He waved you off and you crept back into your bedroom, flopping into bed and curling up against the warm figure that was already softly snoring away.

[ootori-sibs]

The Ootori princess

Chapter ten: Big brother's support

Tw: internalised transphobia, misplaced support

Sitting down at the dinner table, Kyoya felt the weight that had been lifted from her shoulders settle back down. Yuuichi didn't know- and Kyoya had only just accepted it herself… herself… it felt good to think about herself in such a way. The epiphany had happened just that evening, a little while after returning from the park. Kyoya had been considering the fact for a while, but she finally ran out of excuses and distractions, she had to face the fact that there was a bigger reason she wasn't like her brothers… why she was so much more like Fiyumi, although they were different too- it came with the territory, Kyoya figured.

"Kyoya? Are you alright? You haven't touched your food," Yuuichi interrupted her train of thought, a kind smile that only Dr to remind Kyoya of the horror that she'd have to tell him at some point.

"I… yes, apologies, I had something on my mind." She admitted, looking down at her food; they were having sushi today, sashimi mostly. That was good, Kyoya enjoyed sashimi.

A sigh from her older brother, and Kyoya looked up to see his eyes were filled with concern, "there's been a lot on your mind lately, is there something wrong? Anything I should know?" Oh god, Kyoya instantly froze, her entire body locking up as she desperately thought to find an escape.

She swallowed, not looking her brother in the eyes, "I suppose there has been, but it's nothing you're… not aware of," she lied, but only to protect herself. She loved and trusted her brother of course, but this was an entire can of worms she definitely wasn't willing to open right now.

Yuuichi sighed, “Kyoya… you know I can tell when you’re lying to me, right?”

"Lying to you..?" She knew there was no way to lie for a second time, so she could only hope to escape, "I don't think… it was anything bigger than a white lie. Nothing harmful, but still, I apologize." Kyoya hung her head, hoping that Yuuichi would just drop it.

He didn't, Yuuichi was a good, caring older brother, "please tell me, I want to help you…" he then sighs, "you don't have to though, I'm just… I want to help you, I can't help you if I don’t know what's wrong.” Kyoya bristled at that, not liking how her brother was prying into her business like that. She sighed and gripped the tablecloth tightly trying not to panic.

“Yuuichi, I’m sorry but I cannot tell you what I’m thinking about right now, I’m just not prepared for that discussion at the moment.” She bit the inside of her lip, hoping that would be enough for Yuuichi.

"Alright, I understand," he glanced back down at the plate, "I apologize if I crossed a line."

That night, Kyoya couldn't sleep. She was still reeling from figuring it out and then from telling Haruhi. She had eventually gotten out of bed and just sat at the computer, she didn't have anything she had to do, but maybe a game of solitaire would relax her. Unfortunately the more she played, the more frustrated she got, although at least now it wasn't due to gender.

She wasn't sure how she got there, but she was online shopping after a while, looking at dresses and skirts. Kyoya knew she wouldn't be able to wear them outside but still… it was a wonderful idea to simply wear them. She found some purple pringle-pattern socks, in both normal and knee-high variety. Pleased to have something to wear in public, she bought it, quickly following the purchase up with a more pointed version of her regular school shoes, nothing wrong with looking just a little more feminine. It's not like anyone would notice, just her.

Kyoya also thought about names, Haruhi had asked if she'd like to change her name- to find one more suited to a lady.

When Kyoya woke up in the morning, she got dressed, slowly dragging herself downstairs to get coffee. Madeline was there when he got into the kitchen, making some oatmeal. She glanced over when Kyoya entered the room, "mornin'! How're ya feeling?"

She just let out a low groan, almost a growl, grabbing the coffee pot. Usually that was enough to make maids stop talking to Kyoya, but for some reason those two weren't scared of him, Madeline even chuckled.

"Well someone ain't a morning person, sit down baby, I'll get you your coffee." She took the pot from Kyoya's hands, ushering her to sit down. The woman started making the coffee with one hand, using the other to stir the pot of oatmeal, Kyoya had to admit that it was quite impressive. "Are you alright though? The master seems quite worried about you."

"My brother can worry all he likes," Kyoya sighed, she did truly feel bad, but she still wasn't ready to tell him, she would when she was ready though, "it will not change a thing."

"Oh?" Madeline set the coffee down in front of Kyoya, along with a bowl of oatmeal with syrup, coffee granules and cherry blossoms to decorate, "is there something you're not telling him?"

Kyoya just sighed, trying a mouthful of the oatmeal- oh that was good, a hum of approval left her lips, causing Madeline to smile. "I'm not at liberty to tell you about any of that, you are just a maid after all."

She nodded, serving out two more bowls of the oatmeal- Yuuichi must have gone to work already, "I get that, but you have to know that I'm here for you. I'm not gonna tell your brother, or anyone else. You need someone you can talk to, and you don't know me that well, I'm 'no one of consequence' as you would put it. I'm not pressuring you, but if you feel like it, I'm always an open ear."

"Alright, I'll consider it." Kyoya sighed, she ate her oatmeal quietly, pondering the offer given. She supposed she would need someone to talk to, she couldn't just burden Haruhi with everything. Maybe she would talk to Madeline about it, not now though. Right now, Kyoya was thinking about her big brother, had he gone to work already? He’d promised Kyoya that he’d spend the day with her, that he just had one meeting in the morning. So naturally, Kyoya was excited, she idolised her big brother, the fact that she’d get to spend the entire day with him made her very happy. She wondered where he was, probably at that meeting already, but she might ask just to be sure, "where is my brother? Has he gone to work?"

"Oh? Not at all," Madeline chuckled, "he's actually still asleep, the meeting doesn't start for an hour." Oh wow, Kyoya had woken up before her brother for once, she felt a strange sense of pride at that. Funny.

Speak of the devil, Yuuichi came waltzing in not that much later, grabbing the coffee, "mmm, coffee always smells better in the morning, doesn't it Kyo?"

Kyoya smiled up at her brother, feeling a little happier to hear Yuuichi acknowledge her in that informal way he so often did. "Good morning, good luck at your meeting today."

Yuuichi glanced back at him, smiling softly, "you're coming with me, you can get dressed after breakfast, I'll help you pick out an outfit if you want?"

Oh! She was coming with? Kyoya smiled up at him, "why? Where are we going after that?" If Yuuichi wanted to help her pick out an outfit, then he must have something specific in mind.

"Well I figured we could go to the beach and have a little picnic, then we could go shopping," he sips his coffee slowly, looking over some papers as he speaks, "how does that sound? We can do something else if you'd rather."

"The beach sounds nice, one of our private ones I assume?"

"No actually, I found a nice public one, it's never used much though, and there's a nice hidden area we can use." Interesting, Kyoya had very little experience with public beaches, she assumed it would be quite crowded on a day like this but Yuuichi seemed to know how to avoid people, so she was happy. She nodded, imitating Yuuichi with the way she held her coffee cup, taking a sip.

"That sounds wonderful, I think I might enjoy that."

After breakfast, they went up to Kyoya's bedroom, to decide on her outfit for the day. "Do you have any shorts?" Yuuichi asked, pulling open the door to the walk-in-wardrobe and stepping in.

"A few, yes." Kyoya felt her heart hammering in her chest as she realised she also kept the skirt she'd taken from Haruhi in the drawer with the shorts, "although it might rain later today so is that really a good idea?"

"Nonsense!" Yuuichi chuckled at that, "have you seen how bright it is out there? There's no way it'll rain!" Kyoya winced as she saw him open the drawer, a look of mild surprise appearing on his face for just a second before Yuuichi frowns. "You have so many khakis, they don't look good Kyoya! Get better shorts!" He tossed a pair of knee length jean shorts at Kyoya, huffing, "this is why we need to go shopping."

"What's wrong with my shorts?" Kyoya frowned, picking up the shorts she was given. She definitely didn't like the shorts, but they were the straightest thing she could think of- and father had hated it when Kyoya 'dressed gay'. Although he had said being gay was fine as long as she didn't act on it… hey, does that make her straight now? Because she's only interested in boys, but also she's definitely a girl now… so she's straight? Well, guess that would make father happy… obviously not but it was an amusing thought.

"Hmm… oh this is new!" Yuuichi took the little black dress out, looking at it, "this is a long top, almost a dress," he chuckles, "it's cute though, you should wear it."

Kyoya swallowed, a bubble in her throat appearing at the idea of wearing a dress in public. Sure, Yuuichi clearly didn't think it was a dress, but it definitely was just me, and Kyoya was terrified of the idea of being seen like that. "Isn't it a little too long?"

"I don't think so? Your shorts are knee length so it's fine-"

"But! But… it wouldn't go with the jean shorts, it would look bad," Kyoya was full on panicking at this point, thrown into thoughts of people seeing her in a dress like that… it was horrifying.

"Alright, alright," Yuuichi glanced at her with a strange look in his eyes before nodding and putting the dress back, "you've got this white turtleneck? That's cute?"

She sighed, sitting down on her bed, "I suppose I do," she was tired already, of course she was looking forward to the picnic and spending time with her brother. It was just… the panic just then took a surprising amount of energy out of her.

Yuuichi stepped out of the wardrobe, frowning, "are you alright?" Kyoya looks up at him, trying to hide the sudden fear still in her face, it evidently fails as Yuuichi looks heartbroken. He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in, "I'm sorry, I figured it was a dress, I was just trying to be supportive…" Kyoya pauses at that, supportive? It seemed Yuuichi wasn't done, however, as he began to stroke her hair, "I noticed you'd been experimenting with women's clothing, so I figured I'd be encouraging. I'm sorry Kyoya, I didn't mean to scare you like that."

Huh… Yuuichi had noticed, of course he had, Kyoya hadn't been all too subtle. The frilly apron, the instant approval of the hairclips, the talking to Haruhi in private. How hadn't Kyoya noticed his support before? God, her big brother was so sweet and… and he didn't care about Kyoya wearing dresses, so maybe he wouldn't care about her being a girl…

She stared at Yuuichi's face, it was ok, there was nothing but trust and love in those eyes, Kyoya was safe. Kyoya could speak, she was willing herself to tell him, to be free to be herself at least here. Once he knew, she could buy more dresses. It was safe to tell him, of course it was,

but Kyoya couldn't bring herself to say it.

Instead, she just burst into tears, quiet, almost inaudible sobbing as she leaned her head into Yuuichi's chest. Poor Yuui was surprised but instantly comforted her, continuing to stroke her hair gently, "hey… hey, it's ok Kyo, I've got you. Your big brother is here, everything's going to be fine." He sighed, and began huming something soft, a song that Kyoya reconised as a stupid 50s song, the kind mother would always listen to, but of course, Yuuichi had changed the melody… it was a lullaby now.

"...big brother…"

[plutowrites]

AHHH PLUTO okok I’m definitely requesting something from my mf baby 😤❣️

Okok we already know who I’m picking this with... but to be safe Levi LMAO

My pronouns are she/they so she is fine 🤠❣️

OKOK for starters I’m an INFP ! Personality wise with people I don’t know very well they do say I’m a little blunt and I come off harsher than I mean to and I have a very dominant personality, like I’m not at all afraid to call shit out if I see it and be honest with people! But I also think I’m a very kind and devoted person! With my friends and people I talk to though I’m very loud and I feel like I can be a lot sometimes LMAO, I’m just a loud goofy person :)

I’m also very awkward though like “🧍🏻‍♀️”at its finest in social situations that aren’t with work, I’m not very good at reading social queues which is probably why I’m very blunt a lot of the time and harsh on accident cause I don’t mean to be!! I’m just talking!!

I think I’m pretty funny too 🤓

Generally people either think I’m v sweet or mean and idk where that puts me LMAO

Hobbies 🥸 this is so hard always pls but I like artsy stuff -we know this- and I really like the outdoors!! Camping??? Yeah sign me tf up ! I MF LOVE ROADTRIPS I love every part!! The long drives and the scenery and the hotel and the stupid souvenirs it’s just ugh I love it :)

Looks; ok now listen, I am 5’9” and like a half,,, I know Levi is like 5’3 on a good day but IDC‼️I love my lil shorty❣️❣️For looks idk what else to say besides the fact that body wise i’d say I’m like curvy but I have kind of muscular/thick thighs from when I did rugby -that I am a teensy bit insecure about- and that’s just kind of how I’ve always been built man 🧍🏻‍♀️ features wise I have curly black hair and brown eyes and uhhh a beauty mark right by my lip like a Marilyn Monroe one idk what else to say face wise LMAO 😶

Ok I WONT put smoothie as my fav dessert cause apparently that don’t count 🙄✋🏼‼️ so it’d have to be like strawberry anything 🤓❣️ besides ice cream 😶 like strawberry cheesecake! That’s good there we go :)

OK I HOPE THIS WASNT TOO MUCH I LOVE YOU PLUTO PLS IM SO EXCITED

HI LOVE I kinda went off bc you gave me so much to work with ❤️🥺 and while i was writing everything i was like damn...im starting to have feelings for bunny too LMAOO

ANYWAYSS i hope you enjoy 😘

Random Headcanons

Levi and you started dating because all your mutual friends were pushing you guys together and it got to the point where the two of you were so frustrated and were all like fine, LET’S JUST DATE

But then he started to really make you feel ushy gushy feelings…..and you started to make him feel such strong and intense emotions

Whenever the two of you hung out he would bring you snacks that he saw you eating (and enjoying) before. Like y’all will go on a hike and he’ll pull out gummies from his pocket or a random ass drink for you

“Where did that come from?”

“Just take it idiot.”

“Are you sure?”

“I brought it for you.”

 He’ll get so shy then after realizing what he said and he vows to himself to never be soft like that again but then he can’t help it when he’s around you. Poor bby just wants to make you so happy.

He loves listening to you talk and it doesn’t matter what you talk about, he just loves listening to you go on and on ESPECIALLY if it’s something that makes you excited 

You just do something to him when he sees your eyes go all wide and you start to use your hands to speak and he’s freaking out in the inside bc he thinks you’re so perfect but on the outside he looks so nonchalant as he drinking his fourth cup of tea of the day

He’s gonna look forward to your stories, and he especially loves your work ones except when ppl are making your job hard for you

He gets all annoyed that he can’t be there to tell them to fuck off 

I know you said your thighs were a bit of an insecurity for you but if you let Levi find out he’ll make sure you know he loves them and you’re perfect just the way you are

One of his favourite things to do is just lay down on them, head in your lap and he gets to just look up at you and be at peace

He doesn’t communicate his feelings 24/7, he would much rather show you how much he adores you

I feel like he’ll love to give you massages? The two of you will be watching a movie together and he’ll pull your feet onto his lap and just rubs them, or he’ll grab your hand and massage them for you

OUU you’ll be like ugh my hands are kinda dry and he’ll be like bet and leaves the room then comes back with lotion and rubs it on for you 

“I can do that myself, ya know?”

“Tch. Why do it when I can do it, brat?”

OMG you guys watch shows together and he would be so HURT if you watch an episode without him

He’ll come back home from work and see you watching the latest episode and his face will fall and he’ll just retreat back to the room without speaking to you LMAO

You have to promise to never do it again and give him lots of kisses. He’ll act super annoyed but he would forgive you in the first 5 seconds

GIRL he’s gonna love playing with your hair, he is lowkey (highkey) OBSESSED with touching your curls

Tries to do this at night though so he doesn’t ruin your hair for the day

Omg i’m writing a lot AHH 

Levi loves how easy it is to be around you and how effortless it is to love you

He’s not into the theatrics and he hates unnecessary drama so when he’s able to find someone he can be 100% himself around without worrying about rubbing them the wrong way with his personality...he’s so hooked

He appreciates your bluntness! He doesn’t like when people beat around the bush, he prefers someone who is always honest even if it comes off harsh! He’s the same exact way!

HE simply adores your beauty mark, you’ll just catch him sometimes looking at it (and your lips ofc) he thinks it super adorable but he also won’t be super obvious about it

He hates how much money you spend on iced coffees, he always wonders why you can’t make it at home like how he makes his tea at home

You’ll walk through the door and he sees a cup in your hands

“Didn’t I buy you an iced coffee this morning? You still haven’t finished it?”

“No, this is another one.”

“You’re 90% iced coffee at this fucking point.” 

One day he gets so fed up and he just buys all the ingredients to make your iced coffee at home and I’m not talking about him getting some basic instant coffee and some creamer, this man is ordering all the flavours you like

You like hazelnut syrup? He got it. Caramel? He ordered it. You like sweet cream cold foam on top? He bought a milk frother.

He’ll tell you he regrets it later on bc of how much space everything takes up

“Our kitchen turned into a shitty ass starbucks” 

He doesn’t actually regret it tho, he knows how much you love it and that’s enough to make him feel satisfied 

How Levi asks you to be his valentine

This man just straight up texts you! (see image below)

PLS Levi acts so hard but in reality he is so soft for you

After he presses send he constantly checks for your reply

Jumping to his phone when he feels a vibration in his pocket and then gets disappointed when it’s not you texting him back

How Levi spends Valentine’s day with you

For the valentine’s day itself he plans a road trip for the two of you and even though the destination is breathtaking and gorgeous, you can’t help but to think the best part was the journey

[sage-sunset]

sunflowers in the rainy winter  - akaashi bday special

this is an aged up, post-college au for my akaashi simps out there

warnings - not much, total fluff, a bit suggestive at the very end 

recommended - 14+

wc - 2.2k

______

“Happy birthday, baby!” He looks you up and down, rubbing his tired eyes. You’re standing there in that pastel blue puffer coat that he bought you a month ago, shaking from the cold with raindrops stuck to your eyelashes. It’s pouring outside, and you’re holding your umbrella in one hand and a box in the other.

“y/n… love… it’s 12:07. In the morning.”

“I know! I wanted to beat Bokuto this year, he probably won’t get here until two!” “...until?” “You must be tired. Let’s go to bed!” You set the umbrella in the bag and put it in the little stand he has before taking off your coat. You’re wearing fuzzy flannel pajamas, the set Bokuto got the three of you last year. You’re still shivering when you put the box into the fridge and then pull him into the bedroom.

Normally you like to hold him, but since you’re freezing like this, he wraps you into his arms and you flop onto the bed together to huddle under the blankets. Your feet are like ice cubes, and he kisses your forehead and smiles into your hair as you fall asleep in his arms. 

He may have been woken up at midnight, but you being here already makes it the best birthday ever.

_

He’s barely dozed off when the door bursts open, and the telltale “HEY HEY HEY” rings out. He rolls his eyes and sits up to see his best friend, standing there in his soaked glory. You’re somehow still asleep, hands clinging to his shirt.

Bokuto is covered in rain, his silvery hair plastered to his clammy forehead. It’s so cold outside Keiji is surprised it’s not snowing.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRO-” “Bokuto-san, please keep it down. Y/N is still sleeping.” “My bad! HAHAHA-” “Loud.” “Sorry!” He whisper-yells, and Keiji rolls his eyes again. Why did he give this doofus a house key? “Anyways, if you’re this adamant about being here, you can crash on the couch like last year.” “Nah, I’m gonna go home. It’s cold as balls outside, and I want my blanket!” Just like that, he leaves. He spent a good 25 minutes walking over to Keiji’s house in the freezing cold rain at midnight, and he literally just yelled for thirty seconds and then left again.

What the fuck? He tries not to think about it, and goes back to letting you curl into him.

_

This time, he wakes up by himself. The curtain’s open, light filters through, and he sits up. You’re not there, but the smell of something delicious wafts through the apartment.

He rubs his eyes and checks the time, it’s only a bit past eight. He smiles when he walks into the kitchen to see you making something, obviously the source of the smell.

“Love, what’s this?” “Making waffles for my waffle!” He stares at you.

“That sounded much more romantic in my head.” His waffle is just the way he likes them; crispy but still soft and fluffy inside. He stares at it, a warm fuzzy feeling bubbling inside at the little message you’ve spelled out in syrup over the whipped cream; “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. Jesus, he needs to marry you soon.

“Do you want coffee or tea?” “Coffee, please.” He takes a bite once you’ve sat down. It’s perfect, and as he eats he stares at you. You’re perfect too. 

“So, I’m sure you’ve already booked my day full. What are the plans?” You giggle, and the sound makes him feel even warmer.

“I remembered last month that you said that that new gallery was opening up at the museum. And Tsukishima-kun told me that there’s a big shark exhibit opening at the aquarium. So I figured-” “We go to the gallery, get lunch at that cafe we love, and see the sharks?” “You read my mind! Do you want to do that? If not, we can plan something else-” He takes one of your hands in his, and gently presses a kiss to your knuckle, right on your little silver band.

“It sounds absolutely perfect.” He starts to gather up the dishes, but you swat him away.

“You’re the birthday boy, go get ready! Oh, and I forgot to mention, Kuroo-san said that he and a few others are coming over around seven. So we should try to get back by five or so.” He pecks your cheek as you wash the dishes, and you giggle again.

“That’s fine. Do you know how long they’ll be over?” “Not sure, but it won’t be too late, trust me. I’ll have plenty of time to see my birthday boy in his birthday suit…” He blushes, and you turn back to washing the plates. 

“Go take a shower. I’ll join you in a bit.”

_

The gallery is incredible. You seem to agree, staring into each painting with focus and intent. The good thing about you both being artsy is that you can enjoy this kind of thing together.

He holds your hand gently as you lead him to the centerpiece. It’s nothing short of breathtaking. A huge, sprawling field of sunflowers in the middle of summer. The sky is the purest blue you can imagine, and puffy clouds float in the sea of azure. There’s a pair of hot air balloons floating among the clouds, one decorated in oranges and one in purples. In the distance a little farmhouse sits on the hill. The painting is oil, and it’s huge, taller than him. 

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it, Keiji?” He says nothing, staring into the flower field. He imagines for a second that it’s real, that you and him are standing in the ocean of sunflowers, under the summer sky.

That farmhouse could be yours. He can see it, a quiet life there with you two. He’d spend the day writing, you’d spend the day playing the piano and singing with that little fairy voice of yours. 

You’d take a picnic basket down into the field, lay down a little blanket and watch the sunset on the hill. Just the two of you, safe and calm and warm as the sun fades away.

“Keiji?” He’s startled out of his fantasy to see you looking at him, a smile playing at your lips.

“Did you hear me?” “Sorry, what did you say?” “I just said that you’ve been staring at that painting for the past fifteen minutes. I’m starting to get jealous,” you tease.

He smiles at that notion. The painting may be beautiful, but it fades in comparison to you. But then again, so does everything else.

“Let’s get lunch, love. We’ll have to hurry if we want to catch those sharks.” -

This cafe may well be his favorite place on earth. Simply put, it’s where you met. You worked there part time, and he’d stopped by every day after class to get his work done. Once he’d first seen you though, he began to focus on you, rather than his homework.

It took him a month to build up the balls to ask you out. You’d said yes, and your very first date was dinner and a planetarium show. Much more romantic than a movie, you’d said when he asked if it was lame.

And now here you were, about to eat lunch here after being together for two and a half years. There you are, ordering him a Hokkaido bubble tea and red bean toast, the two things you spent weeks writing down his order for. Before he’s even pulled out his wallet, you’ve paid, and he’s barely able to scold you for not letting him pay because you sit him down.

“That painting was really something else, huh?” He nods, gazing into your eyes.

“Don’t stare, you’re making me self-conscious.” “Shush, let me admire my beautiful girlfriend.” Since you’re in public, the most you can do without getting looks is hold hands, which you do even when the bubble teas and pastries are set down in front of you. His thumb gently strokes the band on your finger.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk into the aquarium. He doesn’t let go as you walk past the giant tank, staring at the colorful fish and little crustaceans. He doesn’t let go when you ask the kind older woman to take a picture of you two in the shark’s mouth, and he most certainly doesn’t let go as you gently stroke the bamboo shark’s back in the touch tank.

Neither of you want to leave, but he knows that his friends will be coming over soon and you’ll want to have the cake and stuff ready. So before you leave, he buys you an adorable stuffed shark plush from the gift store.

Once you’re home, you decide to eat a little something so that you won’t be having only cake for dinner. He sets out some leftovers; the braised eggs from yesterday morning, the cucumber salad you made a few days ago to go with the katsu bowls, and he heats up some rice and leftover chicken.

While the love of your life sets out some food, you take the cake you brought over last night out of the fridge and place it out on the table. It’s simple, swirled with purple and blue with macarons on top. You also bought a 23 candle, a little golden one. 

It’s perfect.

You eat quickly, only having a little bit but enough to satisfy your stomach. Before you two know it, there’s a knock at the door.

The only person who’d knock, it’s Tsukishima. He may be a sarcastic little shit, but he’s tolerable compared to the other people coming over tonight.

“Good evening, y/n-san.” “Hey, Tsukki-kun. Come on it, it’s chilly outside.” In a little bit, Kuroo and Kenma show up. Then come Yukie and Kaori, Komi and Konoha, and of course the ace himself.

“HEY HEY HEY! HOW’S THE BIRTHDAY BOY DOIN’?!”

You smile at Yukie and Kaori, shaking your heads at the tall man who’s currently hugging your boyfriend so tightly you think he might burst.

“I’m doing well, Bokuto-san. Would you mind putting me down?” “Sure thing, birthday buddy! n/n been takin’ care of you today?” “I’m sure she has, in quite a few ways,” snickers Kuroo, and Bokuto guffaws as Kenma elbows the rooster-headed asshole.

“Don’t be crude.” scolds Kenma as he scrolls through his phone. You assume that Kuroo made him leave his switch at home.

Two hours into the evening and a bottle of champagne later and the cake is almost gone. Yukie and Bokuto are having an arm wrestling contest on the coffee table with Tsukki as the referee, Kaori is passed out on the couch, Komi and Konoha are giggling like second graders for no reason, and Kenma is crying into Kuroo’s shirt about his village and how he needs to get back to the island, that shit ain’t gonna build itself. Keiji is sitting beside you, his head buried in your shoulder.

“You tired, baby?” He nods, his hand gently rubbing your thigh.

“Okay, I’ll call a cab for these idiots. Sit tight.” You stand to go grab your phone, and before you know it the living room is clear of the eight stooges. Keiji walks up behind you, his face slightly flushed, and wraps his arms around you. You can tell he’s a bit tipsy, but he’s not falling over or anything.

“Baby, go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll clean up in here.” “I can help, love-” “No. I’ll only be a minute. The birthday boy still has one more gift to open.”

With that, you unlatch him from you and go to clean up the glasses and plates. It was nice to catch up with everybody, especially the girls. There were only ten of you, but it was nice to have company for the first time in a while.

You set the leftover cake into the fridge before going into the bathroom to brush your teeth, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you as you wash up and change into one of his shirts.

“Come here, love.”

“In a second.”

“You’re spending the night, right?”

“Of course, baby. I’m yours for the night.”

“You’re too good to me.” “You’re one to talk, prince charming.” He smiles and takes you into his arms. The kiss he pulls you into is just as dizzying and passionate as all of his kisses, but just a bit more fervent. He’s excited, and so are you. 

He pulls away to take your hand, his favorite place to press gentle kisses to. His lips brush over the little band for what feels like the millionth time today, and you remember the promise that the ring means. So does he, and he can’t wait to replace it with a diamond one.

He kisses you again, and you melt into it. He’s so gentle, impossibly so, but despite the gentleness he’s still trapping you there. But trapped against him as he presses a kiss to your forehead and holds your hand in his isn’t such a bad place to be.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers into your hair. “Mm, how much?” “To the sunflower fields and back.”

(a/n - the “silver band” is supposed to be a promise ring. I’ve always thought that he’d be the kind of guy who would buy you a promise ring.)

[the-story-of-the-tucks]

Winter blooms (chapter 1)

(Hi! So this is what happens when @davey-in-a-minivan and I talk about possible aus lol. Anyways she made fanart for this au so plz go check it out!! This is an au where Alice works at a flower shop and Alfred works at a coffee shop so uhh enjoy!)

-----

Alfred has had an interest shift to say the least.

He was late for work which at this point didn’t even surprise his manager, Harold.

Alfred was not great with managing his time and being a pre med student in the middle of finals made it worse.

At this time of the day he tried not to fall asleep in the middle of talking to customers, he was glad that the majority of people who brought coffee this early in the morning where mostly students like him because he didn’t have the energy to deal with Karens today.

“Hi! can i get a Venti Iced Skinny Hazelnut Macchiato, Sugar-Free Syrup, Extra Shot, Light Ice, No Whip”

A melodic voice brought him back to reality and his green eyes met with light brown ones.

He was looking at a brunette girl with her hair in half a ponytail and a beautiful light blue dress and a white apron.

Alfred was too stunned to speak for what felt like either three seconds or an eternity, he finally managed to open his mouth.

“Oh sorry could you repeat,,, everything?” he smiled sheepishly

The girl laughed and Alfred’s heart did somersaults, she repeated the whole order again and he got to annotate it in his notepad.

As Alfred started making the girl’s order he couldn’t help but stare at her, She was fidgeting with her necklace while she watched her coffee being made, she also had the brightest smile he had ever seen, which was odd for someone to be this happy too early in the morning.

“Do I have something in my face?” The girl furrowed her eyebrows in confusion

“No, you look great” Alfred blurted out and immediately blushed. you look great?? god he was so awkward.

He handed the order back to the girl trying to avoid her eyes, she accepted the cup with a smile and started to look in her purse for her wallet.

After a minute of looking, the girl muttered a fuck and placed the cup on the counter

“I forgot my wallet at my job” she admitted “but don’t worry I can leave this here and go get it!”

Alfred softened at that “Hey no it’s fine!” he was gonna get killed for this.

He slowly moved the cup of coffee towards her with a shy smile “It’s on the house”

The girl looked surprised.

“Are you sure? I can just run back and bring the wallet.”

“Yeah! don’t worry about it!”

She sighed in relief. “Thank you so much uhh-” she seemed to realized she didn’t know his name

“Alfred.”

The girl smiled. “Alice.” And with that, she left the coffee shop.

-----

“You should’ve seen him Tabby! he had the fluffiest hair and a cute dimple in the side of his face and-”

“Alice, you have been rambling about this boy for the past thirty minutes” Tabitha, the flower shop manager and one of Alice’s closest friends complained. “We get it, you’re in love with the barista from starbucks because he gave you free coffee.”

“I’m gonna pay him back!” Alice protested

“Just like you payed me when I bought you chipotle the other day?” Tabitha raised her eyebrows and smirked.

“It was one time!”

Tabby just laughed at Alice’s short temper, it was really easy to get her rilled up for something stupid and she found herself doing it often for her entertainment.

After that the two girls fell into a comfortable silence while both cleaned their respective sides of the flower shop, today they had the luxury of opening a little bit later but they also had to do Angus’ work due to him being MIA since yesterday.

“I’m gonna go back tomorrow,” Alice blurted out suddenly, breaking the tranquility of a quiet morning yet again.

“Oh are you now?” Tabby replied sarcastically, without even looking up from what she was doing.

“I need to pay him back!” Alice tried to justify. “Plus I wanna thank him for being so kind yesterday.”

“Are you sure you’re not going back just because he’s cute?” Tabby threw a little twig playfully at Alice, the former just frowned and flipped her off.

Alice stood up suddenly, grinning like crazy.

“Oh no, I know that look.” Tabby said as she rolled her eyes. “you’re having an idea and it’s probably not going to end well.”

Alice decided to ignore her friend as she sprinted towards the back of the store.

When she came back she was holding a little bouquet of white roses, Tabitha raised her eyebrows at that.

“I could give him these roses,” Alice said, as if it was not obvious, “as a thank you gift.”

“Alice,” Tabby sighed. “Those are one of the most expensive ones.”

“C’mon Tabby,” Alice pleaded. “It’s in the name of love.”

“So now you admit that you like the boy?”

“I- d- I never said that!” Alice blushed again.

“Why would you give flowers to someone you don’t like then?”

“Tabby!” Alice protested, knowing the older girl was just messing with her “please”

Tabatha stayed quiet for a few seconds until she sighed in the end. “Fine, but you better get together with the boy, and this is the first and last time I let you take the merchandise for free.”

They both knew that was not going to be the case.

-----

Alfred couldn't stop sneezing.

Apparently right before his shift Alice had come looking for him but she didn't realize that his shift hasn't even started yet.

According to Clarissa, his coworker who was working at the moment, she ordered a super complicated coffee and left a gift for The boy who took her order yesterday.

He had been super excited to see what the gift was until he realized with dread what Alice brought him.

A bouquet of White roses.

He prayed his sneezes were quiet enough that no one found out, but after almost dropping another cup of coffee on himself due to an allergy attack Harold had to pull him aside.

‘Are you sick or something, Alfred? You’re scaring the customers away,” He whispered as soon as he was out of earshot from the people in the coffee shop.

“No It’s just allergies, don’t worry about it.” Alfred shrugged.

He was used to telling people that, after all it was a rare occasion when Alfred was not suffering from allergies or a cold. Some days it seemed like his own body hated him.

“What are you even allergic to?”

What was Alfred not allergic to would be a way shorter answer, but he decided to only say what was causing his reaction at the moment.

“Pollen, mostly.”

Harold eyed the vase of roses on the counter, which has certainly not been there yesterday,

then looked back at Alfred and tilted his head in confusion.

“I don’t even want to ask,”’ Harold sighed and started to head into the back to the store but not before turning around and saying, “Just try not to die or scare the customers away.”

“No promises,” Alfred muttered and tried to go back to work without spilling coffee on himself.

[mymoodwriting]

Perfect Love

Bang Chan/Jisung, Bang Chan/Felix, Felix/Jisung

Genre: Yandere AU

Warning: Electroshock, Medication, Nightmares, Manipulation

Words: 2.3K

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Epilogue

Prompt: When Jisung started dating Chan it was a lot of fun, but that’s all it was and he wanted more. It was a mutual break up, or at least he thought it was. He had no idea what Chan was capable of, that is until he finally went to his house, carried into it actually. A second chance at love is entirely out of his control, and he might not have been the first of Chan’s lovers to be in this position.

 “It’s really early Sungie, you should go back to sleep.”

 “No! No…” Jisung was still shaking. “I don’t want to…”

 “Alright, alright, how about something warm? Make you feel better.”

 “Please… that would be nice…”

 “Let’s go then.”

       Chan helped Jisung up, he couldn’t really stand cause he was still shaking, so Chan carried him upstairs. He sat him down in the living room, deciding to warm up some milk, getting some honey from the cabinet too. He grabbed a tray, putting everything on it and going over to Jisung. He set the tray down on the coffee table, grabbing a blanket to wrap around Jisung, kissing his head.

 “How much honey do you want?”

 “I… I don’t know…”

 “You’re very sweet, so I think you can have a lot.”

       Chan poured some honey into the warm glass of milk, he stirred it, giving it a little taste before handing it to Jisung. His hands were shaking and it was obvious he’d end up spilling it, so Chan helped him out instead. The drink made him smile.

 “It’s good.”

 “I thought so, it was my favorite to have after a bad night too. My mom always made it for me.”

 “Thank you…”

 “You wanna talk about it?” Jisung shook his head. “That’s okay, I’m here when you need to talk.”

 “Can I… can I ask you something…”

 “What’s on your mind?”

 “Felix… Felix said… I was special… to you.”

 “You are.”

 “Why?”

Chan scoffed and took a moment. “When I first saw you… I was so… fascinated. You danced without a care in the world, just enjoying the moment. I figured your whole life was like that, didn’t actually check till after we broke up.”

 “Did you… did you stalk me?”

 “No, I was looking out for you. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 “That sounds-”

 “Why did you work at that restaurant?”

 “What?”

 “They treated you horribly, especially that one costumer who threw their drink in your face.”

 “You… you saw that…”

 “Yeah, and that’s when I realized you needed me. I was so stupid to think everything was okay for you.”

 “Chan-”

 “All I ever did when we were together was make you happy, that’s all I wanted to do. I didn’t know the rest of your life wasn’t like that. I should have taken better care of you then and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

 “That’s not-”

 “Sh, finish you milk and take some medicine, it’s for your throat. I’ll be right back.”

       Chan went upstairs leaving Jisung alone. He had stopped shaking, drinking the rest of his milk comfortably. He glanced out the window, the outside still dark. After a moment he thought he saw something move outside, he screamed and hid behind the couch, wrapping the blanket tight around him.

 “Jisung? What are you doing?”

       When Chan returned he saw the boy on the floor. The other mumbled about something outside, he didn’t ask anymore questions though.

 “There’s nothing there, come on, take the medicine and you can go up and lay down with Felix, maybe get some sleep. Would you like that?”

 “Yes…”

 “Alright, medicine so your throat doesn’t feel bad later.”

       Chan gave the boy some proper medicine, then carried him upstairs putting him in bed with Felix. Jisung felt better, curling up on the bed.

 “Sh, don’t wake Felix okay. I’ll be right back.”

       Jisung nodded, looking sleepy. He went back down to clean up, putting everything away. He grabbed a beer, grabbing the phone, Jisung’s phone, from the medicine cabinet, turning it on. He sat down on the counter, checking the comments on the post of Jisung he had made earlier. They were mostly compliments, although what caught his attention was a comment from the user Lee Know.

     It started as a compliment, but hours later there was another one from them, asking where the photo was taken. It was a rather stupid question, the background was grass meaning it could have been taken anywhere. He paid it no mind, the phone catching up with service and showing him the missed messages and calls, all from the same person, Minho.

     He read through the messages. They started out simple, checking in, see what Jisung was up to. Then they started asking where he was, talking about the empty apartment. He wasn’t too happy about that, finishing his beer and tossing the can, going upstairs. Jisung had fallen asleep, he was glad but he needed him awake for a second.

 “Jisung, baby, wake up.”

 “Chan…”

 “Hey, I need you to take a picture real quick.”

       Chan removed the collar, setting it down, pulling Jisung away from Felix. The boy was still half asleep, his grip on his phone not that strong. Still, he managed to take a selfie, a sleepy smile on his face. Chan looked it over.

 “Good boy. Neck.” Jisung lifted his head up so Chan could put the collar back on. “Go back to sleep now.”

 “Okay…”

       Jisung laid back down, snuggling with Felix. Chan went back downstairs, messaging Minho, saying he was moving in with a friend, been busy unpacking and too tired to do much else. He added the picture afterwards for assurance then turned the phone off and put it back where he found it. Whoever this Minho guy was, he really hoped they wouldn’t become a problem.

 ♥♥♥♥♥

 “Jisung…”

       Felix woke up cuddled up in Jisung’s embrace, he was being held tight. He found it adorable, gently shaking the other.

 “Jisung, wake up.”

       Jisung whined, burying his face in the other’s back. Felix laughed, resorting to laying back down instead. He could just wait for him to get up, so he laid back down. He didn’t know how much time had passed before Chan came up to get them.

 “What’s this? Breakfast in bed?”

 “Jisung seems really sleepy.”

 “Yeah, but he can’t be a bed bug now can he. Wake up, Sungie.”

       Chan pulled Jisung away from Felix, the boy whining and try to keep hold of the other. The two laughed, Chan resorting to tickling Jisung to wake him up. He couldn’t resist, bursting out laughing, trying to get Chan to stop.

 “And he’s awake, do you want me to stop?”

 “Please!” Jisung was still laughing. “I can’t breathe!”

 “Okay, okay.”

       Jisung was panting, staring up at Chan, smile still on his face. Felix had already gotten out of bed to wash up for the morning. Chan pulled up the boys shirt and kissed his chest, building up for a deep kiss to leave Jisung a little more breathless.

 “Wash up and then come down, I made pancakes.”

       Jisung nodded, staying in bed to catch his breath and wait for Felix. After he washed up the two went down together, sitting at the table and taking their morning meds. The pancakes were tasty as expected, the whip cream and limitless syrup making it sweeter. It felt like someone’s birthday.

 “Is it your birthday, Felix?”

 “What? Me? No.”

 “Chan?”

 “No.”

 “Is it my birthday?”

 Chan laughed. “No, why do you ask?”

 “This all really sweet, just wondering what the occasion was.”

 “No need for an occasion, we can have pancakes whenever you want.”

 “Really?”

       His comments had brought smiles to the others. He started to feel embarrassed over what he had asked. Back at his apartment he mostly ate takeout, or something from the restaurant, rarely having a home cooked meal, let alone a tasty breakfast.

 “Yeah, of course, anything for you.”

 “Can we… can we have pancakes tomorrow?”

 “Oh, can we?” Felix chimed in. “Pretty please.”

 “Well when you both ask so nicely how can I refuse. I was gonna suggest we do some baking today too.”

 “Can we make cookies!”

 “What about donuts?!”

 “We can do both, but you have to promise to clean up the mess.”

 “We will! Promise, right Sungie?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Good. Then you guys better clean up the kitchen now. I don’t really have all the ingredients for cookies and donuts but I’ll go out and get some.”

 “Okay.”

 “Then stay out of trouble. I won’t be gone long.”

       Chan excused himself from the table, giving them both a kiss before heading out. The two were excited, the days activities were gonna be a lot of fun and have a tasty outcome. They set out the ingredients they had, discussing the type of cookies and donuts they could make. When Chan returned they eagerly took the grocery bags, overjoyed with all the new ingredients. If they learned one thing that day, cooking doesn’t equal baking, especially from scratch.

       It’s an understatement saying they made a mess. At some point the ingredients were used in a food fight, most of their hair was white due to the flour in the end. The store bought cookie dough was a mistake as it never got into the oven. It was a backup, in case making cookie dough from scratch failed, so they could still have cookies, but that quickly disappeared. At least they did manage to make cookies. The donuts were a whole other story.

       Neither of the two were allowed near the stove, they were very impatient. Chan had to keep them busy by having them clean up the mess, again, and clean themselves up a bit too. The kitchen was maybe a fourth cleaned when the cookies and donuts were done, they couldn’t just let them cool down and get hard. So with some milk they enjoyed their goodies, maybe not as delicious as something they’ve had before, but good nonetheless, they vowed to do better next time.

 “Well, I don’t want to clean another mess in the house, so I’m hosing you both down in the garden, let’s go.”

 “What!”

 “Just to get the flour off you, Lix. You can take a bath with Sungie after.”

 “Oh, okay!”

 “And you both can hose me down after.”

 “Awesome!” Jisung cheered. “I call first!”

       They went out to the back, the sun almost setting. Chan soaked them both with the hose, getting all the flour and all other ingredients off them. Jisung eagerly took the hose after to soak Chan, Felix yanking it for himself after, they certainly went overboard.

 “Alright, alright.” Chan yelled, spitting out water and laughing. “I don’t want either of you catching a cold, let alone me, who would take care of you then?”

 “We could take care of you for a change.” Felix said.

 “Maybe, but I like looking after both of you. Now go dry up a bit and go take a bath, I’ll be up after I finish cleaning.”

 “We were supposed to clean.” Jisung mentioned.

 “Did I say that? Well I lied, now go before I douse you again!”

       He let the hose go off and the two ran inside. They did their best not to track too much water through the house. Jisung was a bit nervous about taking a bath with Felix but the other assured him it was fine, filling the tub with plenty of bubbles. Once they were in the water any doubts faded, both taking turns cleaning each other, playing with the bubbles.

 “And are my boys clean?” Chan peeked into the bathroom. “Or do they need help.”

 “Help!” Jisung laughed.

 “Really, I thought-”

       When Chan got close enough Felix and Jisung both grabbed him and pulled him in, clothes and all. They laughed, splashing him with water. He fought back as best he could but it was two against one, eventually he surrendered.

 “Alright you win, you win. Good job. Can I take a bath now?”

 “Can we help?”

 “Um… fine, but dry up okay.”

       They did so, putting on a bit of clothes, helping Chan out of his own. Felix was used to helping Chan with a few things, like a bath, he knew what he liked, Jisung was fairly new but a quick learner. Afterwards they all needed to dry off and put on clean clothes.

 “Is Jisung sleeping with us tonight?” Felix asked.

 “Hm… sorry baby, but no.”

 “Please! Please I’ll do anything!”

 “I know you would Lix, I know, but Jisung needs his proper rest.”

 “Oh… right.”

 “Don’t worry okay, eventually he’ll get to sleep with us every night.”

 “Okay.”

 “I’ll be up in a little bit okay.”

 “Night Sungie.” Felix gave him a little kiss. “Sleep well.”

 “You too.”

       Jisung took Chan’s hand and went downstairs with him. The kitchen still had a faint smell of cookies and donuts, it brought a smile to his face as he went into the basement. Instead of going to his room Chan tied him down on the table.

 “Chan…”

 “Sh… we had fun today right?”

 “Yeah.”

 “And that’s how it’s always going to be soon enough, okay, just smiles and happiness. Would you like that?”

 “With you… and Felix…”

 “Yup, the three of us. You like the sound of that?”

 “Yes…”

 “Good, good. Glad to hear it.”

       Chan gently administered his medicine, petting his head, then placing the electrodes on. It didn’t take long before Jisung started pulling on the restraints, squirming and screaming.

 “Easy, easy, you’ll be just fine, Sungie.” He kissed his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

       He hit a button on the machine, sending a jolt through the younger boys body. It was set up to do so every half hour, just a small voltage, nothing too damaging. He locked the basement door, going up to Felix, the boy already laying in bed.

 “Come on, up, you know you won’t get a goodnight sleep without your medicine.”

 “I know.” Felix sat up. “I heard Sungie… is he okay?”

 “You’re using pet names now?”

 “Can I not?”

 “You can, it’s so cute. Ask me again.”

 “Is Sungie okay?”

 “Yes, he will be, just like you. You remember how it was, right?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Then you know it’s for his own good. Now, show me your neck.”

       Felix did as he was told, drowsiness quick to set in. Chan put his headphones in, sweet music filling his ears, he snuggled under the covers, getting a kiss. He leaned into the older boys touch, happy to be in his arms, and he looked forward to having Jisung around too.

[artificialqueens]

Vicks VapoRub-Me (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Of Lovers, Friends and Everything in Between. Part 6.- Unwell

Title: Vicks VapoRub-Me Category: M/M Summary: Unfortunately, he has never eaten knives before, but he figures it would feel similar to this. Notes: Massive disclaimer, this is by far not my best work. I woke up one day feeling like absolute shit, so it felt appropriate that I portrayed exactly that, that’s why I decided to take on this prompt. Seriously felt like dying and couldn’t even function properly, so I kinda gave up on this; then Miss Corona decided to come visit and I didn’t really feel like writing a sickfic at the time. Anyways, it took me months to finish this simple one shot but here it is. I hope you enjoy! (because I still feel like dying). -Monkey Written: Feb 21st, 2020 - April 25th, 2020

Vicks VapoRub-Me

 “I am so sorry, Pete,” he lets out before sniffing yet again. “You know I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t bad. I seriously feel like absolute shit.” He moves the phone away from his face as a sudden sneeze escapes him.

He catches the end of Pete’s sentence when he puts the device back to his ear. “…worry,” he assures. “I’ll let everybody know, and we’ll continue shooting on Monday, how does that sound? You just stay home and rest up, okay? Have you talked to Trixie?”

“Not since last night.”

“Okay, I’ll call her. Keep me posted. Hope you feel better.”

He pronounces some grunts of agreement before disconnecting the call.

He’d known something was wrong since the night before. He’d been out late, having ice cream with Amy. The air had been cold, but it felt good against his constantly overheated skin. They’d walked back to his apartment without rushing, enjoying the cool California weather.

As soon as his head hit the pillow later that night, he found himself regretting that little stroll. His nose was stuffy and he had trouble swallowing. He’d sent his complaints to Trixie through text messages, but had also stated how his body was always on his side and he hadn’t gotten a cold in ages. The itchiness in his throat had kept him awake, but Trixie, who wasn’t suffering the symptoms, had fallen asleep mid-conversation.

He grabs his phone, with the sole intention of letting Trixie know about the development of his state. The string of blue bubbles is overwhelming. A countdown of how many hours of sleep he would’ve gotten, if he fell asleep right then, had been sent every hour.

He closes the conversation and throws the phone on the empty space next to him.

Maybe if he showers, he will get to feel better. Cleanse his body of all toxins, or whatever. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Until he throws the covers away, that is. The temperature of the room is colder than he had expected, or maybe he’s running a fever, because the chilled air makes his skin tingle as soon as it touches it. With a deep sigh he turns around, grabs the covers and turns himself into a blanket burrito again. It’s time to take a nap, put his body into low power mode and let it fight whatever it is that’s making him sick.

He sleeps for an hour, or three, or six, he doesn’t know; but he’s suddenly awakened by the doorbell sounding incesibly.

“Jesus. Go away!” He screams into his pillow, sinking deeper into the mattress. The person doesn’t do as they are told, and the bell is heard again. “This better be a major fucking emergency.”

This time he doesn’t make the same mistake as before. He grabs the blanket at the top of the pile and wraps it around his shoulders. Still mumbling curse words is that he reaches the door. He opens it without asking who is on the other side, but is ready to give them a piece of his mind for waking him up. The concerned features disarm him on the spot.

“Oh, my God, Katya. Are you okay? You look horrible!”

“Well, good morning to you too, you fucking bitch,” he pretends to be offended as much as he can, but his body is still not responding properly.

Trixie makes his own way past Katya, carrying several plastic bags in each hand. “Good morning? Girl, it’s almost four in the afternoon. I’ve been calling and texting you. When the messages didn’t show delivered I got worried, then the calls were not connecting. I decided to come see you.”

Katya looks around, as if the device would magically appear somewhere around the living room. “I don’t know where my phone is. It’s probably dead somewhere.”

After dropping everything on the coffee table, Trixie walks back to Katya, who hasn’t moved from his spot next to the door. “I brought you some food. Pete told me you were not feeling well, but this seems, like, super serious.” He grabs Katya by the hands and basically drags him to sit on the couch. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, you-you…” A sneeze interrupts his speech. Trixie reaches inside a bag and takes out a box of tissues before a second sneeze escapes Katya. “Thank you. Now, look away, this is not going to be pretty.”

Trixie laughs but does nothing to divert his eyes as Katya blows his nose. He even offers his hand for Katya to place the used tissue. Katya simply makes a face of disgust and puts it on the table in front of them.

“So, is it like a cold,” Trixie inquires. “Or what is it that you are feeling?”

“You know, it’s so weird. Whenever I move, it feels as if part of my body moved and then it took a second for, like, my other half to catch up. I don’t know how to explain it.”

He doesn’t have to, before he even finishes his sentence, Trixie is already nodding. “Those body aches are signs of a fever. Hold on.” Once again, Trixie starts going through the bags in front of him. “I didn’t know what you had so I stopped by the pharmacy and bought a bunch of shit. I know the lady sold me a thermometer.”

“Is it rectal, mother?” Katya asks in a watered down version of Maureen’s voice.

“Oh, my God,” Trixie says between giggles, finally finding the thin tube. “Glad to know the cold hasn’t affected your sluttiness. Now open.”

Katya does as he’s told, parting his lips as Trixie puts the instrument under his tongue.

“According to this thing, we need to wait a minute and a half,” Trixie informs him as he puts the instructions aside. “Okay, now, hear me out.” He starts speaking more to himself, to fill the silence around them, as he takes his purchases out of the bags. “I went to the drug store to get you, like, cough drops or something for the flu, you know, just in case. When I was there I remembered what happened to my uncle Steve, you remember him, right?”

With the glass tube still in his mouth, Katya shakes his head.

“Yeah, you do. He went to rehab. I’ve talked about him several times. Anyways, when he came out of rehab he had this thing for, like, NyQuil and stuff. He couldn’t even see cough syrup ‘cause it was, I don’t know, triggering, I guess.”

Katya can’t help but smile. The way Trixie speaks with his hands, as much as he does with his mouth, will always be fascinating. He mumbles something unintelligible around the thermometer, then tries to muffle a laugh.

“Shut up! It’s not gonna work if you are talking!” Trixie warns, waving a finger in front of him. “As I was saying. I called Valentina. She’s always bragging about how Mexicans are the best at home remedies, and she gave me some useful tips. That’s why I brought you chicken broth, ‘cause apparently soup only works in movies. She told me to get a shit ton of Vicks VapoRub, and that you should put it on your chest and the sole of your feet. Now, she mentioned something about wrapping your feet with newspaper, but I guess a pair of socks…”

The rest of his rambling gets immediately lost to Katya’s ears. Maybe it’s the fever, or maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but Katya has never felt more loved or taken care of in his life. His eyes water as they analyze the intensity with which Trixie is speaking. He is so worried. He’s dropped everything to be there for Katya; went out of his way to not only buy him drugs for his sickness, he took in consideration Katya’s sobriarity.

Almost without thinking about it, Katya leans forward and drops his head on Trixie’s shoulder. That’s enough to stop the rambling. Trixie’s hand goes up and caresses Katya’s unshaven cheek. The room is completely silent, their breathing synchronizes after a few seconds and soon that’s the only sound filling the air around them. It’s comfortable, it feels like home.

Suddenly, Katya doesn’t feel so sick anymore, his body doesn’t ache as much, his lungs are pulling oxygen in again.

“Let me take a look at that,” Trixie says quietly, not really wanting to interrupt the moment but needing to check the thermometer. He removes it from Katya’s mouth, and puts it up against the light, that’s when he realizes. “I don’t know how to read this thing! Don’t they sell like electronic ones? Shouldn’t this thing say something like: yes, you are hot, or no, you ain’t dying, bitch, you ain’t that special?”

Katya takes the thermometer in his hands, doing his best to breathe as he laughs and coughs at the same time. “It’s ninety… ninety-nine and a half, maybe? That’s not bad. Fever, I believe, starts at, like, a hundred. Anything higher than that is, like, really dying.”

He says it as a joke, as a way to light up the mood, but Trixie’s face turns somber. “Ninety-nine and a half is basically a hundred. So you do have a fever, don’t you dare die on me, you idiot.”

“I’m fine. I do feel like taking a shower, though. That can bring down my temperature, plus, I’ve been sweating a lot.”

Trixie nods his head. “Okay, you go do that, I will heat up the food. You think you can eat?”

Already standing up, Katya agrees. “Yeah. Warm soup would feel nice down my throat. I have never eaten knives before… unfortunately… but it feels like that’s the only thing I’ve been eating.”

“You know what else could feel nice down your throat?” Trixie tries to joke, but laughter makes it hard for him to even finish the sentence.

Katya stops cold on his tracks, turns around and points a finger at him. “Hey, if you are not planning on putting your huge ding-dong in my mouth, don’t you joke about that.”

Lifting his hands in surrender, Trixie walks away, occupying himself in the task of heating up the food for his sick friend.

The shower is quick, Katya doesn’t feel like standing under the spray of freezing water, or at least that’s how it feels against his hot skin. The drops leave a tingling feeling as they travel down his body, hopefully taking germs and viruses away with it. When he enters his bedroom, it feels as if his heart has dropped to his feet as well. The lights are off, all but the lamp on the bedside table. Trixie walks in with a tray in hand. There’s a bowl that probably has the broth in it, a glass filled with juice, another one with water, and some containers that surely hold medicine in them to make him feel better.

“Get in the bed,” Trixie commands, pushing his chin towards the unmade covers.

Katya doesn’t even question it, he unties the wet towel and throws it on a chair. The sheets feel cool as he places them around his lower half. Just when he’s feeling himself relax, he’s startled by Trixie’s hand on his chest.

“Don’t you ever touch me,” Katya says more out of reflex, doing absolutely nothing to remove Trixie’s fingers from his skin.

With a small eye roll, Trixie continues on his task. “Shut up, you big baby. I need to put this VapoRub on your chest to, I don’t know, open up your lungs or something like that.”

That’s when he sees it. Trixie sees the corners of Katya’s mouth slowly curling into a smile he knows very well. It is a very telling smile. Katya knows his thoughts are not socially accepted, yet he will proudly express them. As soon as the blindingly white teeth are in full display, Trixie lets out a sigh as he dramatically drops his shoulders.

“What-what now?”

With lifted eyebrows, Katya uses his eyes to make Trixie look down, towards his bottom half. The sheets are slightly lifted and Katya laughs as soon as the ‘oh, wow’ is pronounced, indicating Trixie understands what’s going on.

“Bitch, I’m literally putting medicine on your chest. This can’t possibly be turning you on.”

“No, no, no,” Katya quickly corrects him. “Getting a boner is not an equivalent of getting turned on. It’s just a physical reaction to human touch.”

Trixie sits on the edge of the bed, ignoring the response of Katya’s body, and carries on with the task. “When were you last touched by a human?” He asks with a twist of his lips, trying to make it sound sarcastic, and expecting Katya to bring up a weird story of how he was last touched by a demon or something of the short.

None of that happens.

Katya looks away, almost ashamed. Almost. Shame is not part of his vocabulary. Yet, there is no other word that could describe the somber air taking over his features. There is a sigh before he looks back at Trixie. Something immediately changes. His eyes are a shade darker than usual, they look straight into Trixie’s soul, and he can’t take it. He has to look down, to the container of medicine still in his hands.

“Hey,” Katya speaks, softly, almost in a whisper. Trixie nods, acknowledging he’s heard him, but still not able to look up. “Thank you,” Katya finishes. The tone of his voice is deep, laced with something that Trixie doesn’t dare to figure out.

He shrugs a shoulder. “No problem,” Trixie assures Katya, toying with the blue jar. He doesn’t elaborate, he wants to make the weird cloud above them go away. He presses two fingers into the scented gel before running it against Katya’s skin.

Trixie tries to concentrate on applying the medicine into Katya’s chest evenly. His hand travels from one pec to the other slowly. His fingers make sure to lightly touch one of the bugs, permanently drawn on Katya’s shoulder, before making his way to the one. He does his best to ignore the deep stare of his friend burning the top of his head, he doesn’t pay attention to the uneven raising and falling of the chest he’s touching. He really wants to, he is really trying. It’s useless.

Soon, he finds himself licking his lips, he feels the throbbing in his pants, he loses control of his hand. Without even thinking about it, he takes more medication but his fingers land on Katya’s stomach this time. His fingertips trace the toned abs, his nails scratching slightly. He goes lower and lower until his hand disappears inside the covers.

It burns. It really burns. When the ointment reaches the delicate skin, Katya closes his eyes. He wants to open them, he wants to see Trixie’s hand going up and down on him. He wants to have a good look at Trixie’s face as he pumps him; but he’s too weak. His mind is fogged with fever and lust. He is struggling to pull air in when his lungs are still not fully working. All he knows is that Trixie’s soft touch is taking care of the throbbing of his lower half, just as he has been taking care of his sickness for the last hour or so.

He has to do something, as a thank you. He blindly pats down the mattress, finds Trixie’s legs, and the bulge between them right after. Slowly, he opens his eyes, just to find Trixie’s stare.

“Brian,” Trixie whispers, no other word is pronounced but all motion stops. “I’m sorry,” he says, releasing him with a heavy exhale. “I shouldn’t have done that. You are sick, you are not feeling well.”

“So what?” Katya sounds almost angry. “It’s not like we are kissing. Surely a cold is not dick-to-hand contagious.”

Trixie stands up, maybe some physical distance could work in their favor. “That’s not what I meant, bitch. I just… I don’t know. It feels like I’m taking advantage of you.”

Katya sits up, making sure the covers don’t fall and add awkwardness by revealing his erection. “Hey, listen. Nobody is taking advantage of anybody. If anything, I’m taking advantage of your good heart to fuck you. You have been such an amazing friend and, honestly, the only way I know how to communicate is sexually. I kinda sensed this was where things were going. I’m sorry. I know you have made it perfectly clear, right from the start, that it couldn’t happen. I need to respect that.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Trixie taps his foot softly against the floor. “What if…” he trails off, his eyes avoiding Katya again. “What if I want something to happen?”

“You do?” Katya doesn’t do anything to hide the excitement in his voice.

Trixie nods. “I do. But not like this, though.”

“Oh, no! God! Not like this,” Katya agrees.

A small smile creeps into Trixie’s lips, before he goes around the bed and climbs next to Katya. “Why don’t we wait until you feel better and revisit the subject?”

Katya lays back down and faces him with a giant grin on his face. “I feel better already.”

[keyboardpunk]

Killing Me Slowly

(Chapter 1 / ?) Mirage x Wraith / Elliot Witt x Renee Blasey Rated M(18+) for sexual content [ Also on AO3 ]

I built these walls to hide my ghosts… Your fingers trace the wounds exposed… I try and try to let you in… But I fail again and again…

… … …… … …

… … … … … … … … …

… … …… … …

Elliot woke to the sound of a fan blowing quietly in the background. He rolled onto his back and pressed his palms into his eyes, letting out a horrible groan. For a moment, he stayed like that, on his back, hands over his face. His head was pounding away, like someone had taken a hammer to his skull. Suddenly, he realized that he had to pee really, really badly. "Fuck me," he groaned as he rolled back over and tried to climb out of bed. He rose onto his feet and wobbled a bit, the dimly lit room spinning. He staggered, almost toppling back onto the bed, before limping his way to the bathroom. When he was close enough, he placed a hand on the wall to help him stay upright.

 When he was done, he washed his hands and took in his reflection in the mirror above the sink. The Elliot in the mirror looked like shit: hair a mess, shadows under his eyes, beard unkempt. He splashed some cold water on his face and groaned again. He then dried his face with a wash cloth and reached for one of the jars on the shelf. His eyes glossed over the label quickly to make sure he grabbed the right thing. It was his beard oil, tea tree and musk, the only scent he bought. He dipped a couple fingers in, smoothed it over his hands, and rubbed it into his beard. It felt nice, smoothed out the hairs, and the scent helped him wake up. He then comped his hair and used a little clip to pin it back so that the longer strands rested on the top of his head.

He washed his hands, limped out of the bathroom, and realized he wasn't alone. "Thought I heard you wake up," a voice murmured from the doorway that connected his bedroom to the hallway. Elliot blinked slowly and stared at the finger in front of him. He lifted his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes before checking again. Sure enough, she was still there: pale skin, ebony locks and opal eyes. Elliot looked around to make sure he was in the place he thought he was: fan rattling away in the corner, huge bed with dark blue sheets, mahogany dresser, his favorite pair of jeans on the floor. Yep, this was his bedroom.

"Uhm," he mumbled, looking back at her. Confused, he pointed at himself, then her, then back at himself. The corner of her lip twitched with amusement. "Did I do something stupid?" he blurted. Wraith let out a little snort, that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "No," she replied. "You were really drunk, so I brought you home. You were pretty messed up, so I stayed." Elliot's brow lifted. "Hope that's alright?" she added on, crossing her arms loosely.

"Oh - of course - I'm just s-sup-surprised - you... you were worried about me?" Wraith scoffed and looked away from him. Elliot couldn't hold back a little grin. Before he could continue, she piped up, "I made coffee." Wraith exited sharply, leaving Elliot alone again. He looked down at himself and realized he was only in his boxers, and socks, for some reason. He stripped off the socks and underwear, tossed them in the hamper, and put on some clean boxers, lounge pants and a T shirt.

When he entered the kitchen, Wraith was sitting at the bar attached to the divider between the kitchen and the living room. She had the TV on and was watching it while sipping at a mug. He approached her and glanced curiously into the mug. "Black?" he pondered aloud. Wraith smirked a little at his observation. He staggered into the kitchen to pour himself a cup. After adding some creamer and giving it a stir, he sat down next to her and looked at the TV. It was a documentary of sorts about ancient civilizations.

"Thanks for looking out for me," he said, a bit nervously. Wraith hummed into her mug as she took a sip, not moving her eyes off the TV. "I make killer waffles and bacon - unless you're in a hurry to leave?" he offered. She could see his excited face in the corner of her eye, like he was eager to impress her. "Sure you're up for it?" she questioned, eyeing him suspiciously. "Yeah, this really hit the spot," he said, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "-and, if not, you're here to save me.”

Elliot got up from the bar, mug still in hand, and waddled over to the fridge. "I guess I can't toss 'em back like I used to... I, ugh, don't remember anything after the ninth round." Wraith was still staring at the TV, but her ears were focusing on what Elliot was saying. "What did I do that made you worry?" he asked. Wraith looked down into her empty mug, recalling his drunk stupor. He wasn't aggressive or violent or anything of that sort, and he wasn't exactly trying to go home with anybody sketchy. The excessive vomiting that followed didn't really help; but, it was what happened precisely before he got drunk that had worried her. Wraith wasn’t sure she wanted to admit that she overheard him.

"I was afraid you were gonna puke up one of your intestines," she replied. She couldn't see it, but she could practically feel Elliot cringe behind her. "Ah geez..." he replied. She could hear pots and pans shifting, silverware on glass, and sizzling, as he spoke. "So, uhm... h-how do you like the place?" Honestly, it was a lot nicer than Wraith expected. It was well kept, for the most part, and his taste in furniture wasn't appalling, surprisingly. His couch was comfortable and she found extra blankets and pillows with ease. "It's nice," she answered, softness in her tone.

"Oh! Uhm-" Elliot cleared his throat nervously, probably not expecting her answer. "-glad you like it." He was quiet for a minute or two before he slid a plate in front of her. Wraith stared at the assortment, impressed that Elliot, hungover, had managed to make a few slices of bacon and a waffle without burning them. He caught her inspecting as he set down his own plate and carefully slid into the chair beside her. He let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I - ugh - have experience cooking while hungover..." He nudged a syrup container her way and waited until she spread a thin layer before he poured a heavy amount onto his, including the bacon. She gave him the side eye, and he let out a huff.

"What?" he chuckled. Wraith smiled a little and shook her head. "Nothing..." Elliot was quiet, for a little bit, and they ate and watched TV, until he suddenly blurted, "you didn't undress me, right?" With her mouth full of waffle, Wraith settled for elbowing his side until she could finish chewing and respond properly. He grunted and flinched a little. "No. You did that yourself," she replied. "...you did ask me to join you, though," she added on, after being quiet for a second.

Elliot nearly choked on his bacon, "oh god-" Wraith chuckled a little. "Not like that," she elaborated between quiet laughter. Elliot shot her a pout. "It was like," she continued, "you were complaining about being cold, when you suggested I join you. But, as soon as you hit the bed, you were out. At least you stopped throwing up at that point." Elliot turned back to his plate and scoffed, "oh good, so the embar-ba-barassment stopped eventually?" Wraith stood up and picked up her mug to pour herself more coffee. "I'm disappointed you didn't take me up on my offer," he teased as she walked away.

Wraith didn't respond immediately and, for a moment, Elliot was worried that he might have said the wrong thing; but, she returned with her coffee and stole a piece of bacon off his plate. "Not a chance," she stated, a little smugly. "Your loss," he teased back, finishing what bacon remained on his plate before she could snatch it.

Wraith occasionally glanced at Elliot, sitting beside her, and wondered what had come over her. She normally didn't care about other people, or their problems; and, yet, she had put in the effort to get Elliot home and even spent the night on his couch so she could keep an eye on him. She didn’t have to put on a detective hat to know what had compelled him to drink so much last night, and she had a feeling that Elliot hadn’t forgotten why he did that; but, she decided to leave it alone.

"There's gonna be a big match tomorrow," she commented as Elliot cleared their plates. "Pssh, don't worry. I won't muck it up," Elliot replied, letting his confidence shine through his tone. "I can win with one eye closed - both eyes closed - hell, I don't even have to show up!" When he turned around, Wraith was making a face at him. "-b-but I will," he added on.

"Since you're not dead, I'm gonna head out,” she said, standing up. “I'll see you tomorrow..." It was impossible to not see disappointment flash across Elliot's face. He was quick, however, to wipe it away. "Fuck yeah, and I'll win," he proclaimed confidently. "-and, ugh, Wraith, I, um... I'll make it up to you, promise." Wraith smiled a little and nodded, "okay... By the way, I left your phone on the charger in your room…"

Wraith retrieved her shoulder bag from the floor, where it slumped against the couch, and made her way to the front door. Her hand was still on the door knob; but, she paused and turned her head to look at Elliot. He was hunched over the sink, washing dishes, and too preoccupied to notice her hesitation. Her lips parted, but the words were caught in her throat. She realized, in that moment, that she wanted to stay.

Her bag slouched and nearly fell off her shoulder. She could see Elliot's shoulder blades moving beneath his shirt as he worked, his neck muscles tighten with concentration. His shoulders rose and fell as he shifted dishes around. Before she could stop herself, Wraith exited, and nearly slammed the door on the way out. Elliot turned just as the door closed and looked at it sourly. "...shit."

… … …… … …

… … … … … … … … …

… … …… … …

“Mirage here to save the day,” Mirage sang as he leaned over Wraith, one hand on her shoulder to steady her while the other hand shoved a syringe into her chest. It stung on impact, like it always did, and made her jerk reactively. It drained quickly, sending heat through her veins. She could feel the bullet wounds closing, the bruises on her knuckles fading, the cuts on her knees sewing shut. Ah, the ring was such a bizarre place.

Once it was done, Mirage yanked her to her feet. “Thanks,” Wraith responded immediately, tearing away the empty syringe where it dangled from her chest and tossing it to the ground. She limped over to the death box nearby, some kid who was in way over his head, and took the armor left behind, while Mirage crouched down nearby and shoved a syringe into his arm. “Shit,” he growled at the sting, and the syringe emptied into him steadily. Suited in some fresh armor, Wraith followed suit, leaning back against the nearby wall, and shoved a syringe into her arm with a low hiss.

Watson came sliding down the cave entrance to join them. “Fences up,” she stated as she began rummaging through the death boxes nearby. Her hair was a frizzy mess, likely from the humidity from the nearby lava pits, and she had dirt on her cheeks. For someone so young, so small, Wraith hadn’t expected her to be such a valuable ally, both capable of securing a parameter and an excellent marksman. She felt the desire to apologize, despite having not made her doubt obvious to the young girl.

“Trade me,” Mirage suddenly barked. Wraith turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed slightly with confusion. He was staring at her, confirming that he did direct that statements towards her. “Trade what?” she questioned. Mirage reached back and removed his r99 off his back. “I’m a better shot, and you’re better at steadying,” he explained. For a moment, Wraith looked back and forth between the weapon and his eyes. He was being serious, and she almost wanted to protest; but, their last fight suggested that he had a point.

“Fine,” she eventually grunted, pulling her wingman free from her hip to surrender it to him. When he took it from her, his fingers slid over hers; when she looked up, he seemed closer than before. “I got this,” he reassured her breathily. The corner of her lip twitched a little when Elliot walked away, holstering the revolver. She picked up the sub-machine gun, adjusted the sights a little, and slid it onto her back.

“Looks like the ring is in lava city,” Watson stated. “Should we move over’zhere?” Wraith was the first to chime in, “yes.” Mirage followed immediately after with, “heard ya’.” Wraith barely turned the corner before Mirage let out a strange yelp. “Heads up!” he hollered. Wraith looked back at him just in time to see him toss her a box of light ammo. She caught it with a huff and shot him a glare as he ran by.

Mirage scouted ahead and Watson ensured that they were covered from the back. Wraith took to one of the higher buildings and looked down the sights on her scout, hoping to catch an unsuspecting squad entering the canyon. So far, however, it had been still and quiet. She heard footsteps and removed her gun from her cheek to look down the entry way. Mirage had sent a clone her way. It ran past her, stopped and stared at the wall. She looked back at the decoy, then exhaled heavily and looked away.

"Everything alright?" Mirage asked over the communication system. "Yeah," Wraith replied stoically, lifting the sniper back to her eyes so she could check the entry ways again. "15 seconds to ring closing," Watson chimed in quietly. Wraith heard footsteps again and turned around to see the real Mirage walking up to her this time. He lifted his hand to hold the mute button on his ear piece. "You seem out of it," he commented. Wraith avoided his eyes, partially because she was afraid of the distraction it would cause, mainly because she was annoyed that he realized her game was off. It probably shouldn't have surprised her. They had been matched up many times. He was perspective, if anything.

“M’fine-” she began. Wraith cut herself off, however, when she heard a whisper. Her brow lowered and she concentrated on the apparition. “There’s a sniper in the area,” a ghostly, familiar voice murmured to her, a wisp of air, hurried and warning. “We’re not alone,” Wraith warned, her voice serious. “Oui,” Watson replied. Mirage released his ear piece. The serious moment they shared immediately ended when he walked away and proudly declared, over their comms, “new kill leader – soon to be me!”

… … …… … …

… … … … … … … … …

… … …… … …

Elliot's 21 year old self would have probably punched him right about now.

The girl was beautiful: long blonde hair and creamy thighs poking out of a short skirt, topped off with stilettos on dainty feet. She was tipsy, but not too far gone to not be aware of what she was doing. She laughed at Elliot's jokes, responded well to his horrible pickup lines, was good at pretending to care about his holo-tech. But, when it came down to closing the bar and actually taking her somewhere, he realized that he didn't want to. 21 year old Elliot loved the idea of women fawning over him, throwing themselves at his feet, begging for a chance to take him for a spin. 30 year old Elliot liked to be in bed by ten, started to understand the value of prunes, and was tired of one night stands.

He called her a cab and watched it drive away while he stayed behind to finish cleaning the bar for the night. Technically, she was right on time for closing: midnight on the dot, to be specific. He could have closed the bar and came back early in the morning to whip it into shape, after a night of getting lucky. But, as she tugged him outside by the sleeve of his button-up, Elliot was hit with hesitation. She was definitely a fan: she knew the names of his moves, talked a bit about his last match. But, even after he introduced himself, she had continued to call him Mirage.

As he wiped down the bar and made sure all the bottles were properly sealed, the weight of his loneliness collapsed on top of him like a pile of bricks. But, at the same time, he didn't regret his decision. It wasn't necessarily that he wasn't interested. One part of him most certainly was. Considering how well she walked in those heels, she was definitely not an amateur at this sort of… thing. It was more so that he wanted more - more than a quick rump in the sheets with a stranger.

Again, his 21 year old self would have definitely punched him right now.

Elliot stepped outside to lock up. The street was vibrating slightly from the sounds of the many surrounding clubs and bars that weren’t yet past closing time. He could hear the sounds of heels tapping on asphalt, the techno beats of some catchy songs, screaming and cheering. For a moment, he was lost in the ambiance of the nightlife.

As he fumbled with the keys, "Elliot," gently called out to him. He jerked a little in surprise, dropping the keys. They made an obnoxiously loud chiming sound when they hit in the concrete. "S-shit – ya’ startled me," he sputtered out, spinning on his heels to face- "Wraith?" Elliot blurted dumbly, staring at her in shock. "Surprise," she replied in her iconic, melancholy tone, with the tiniest bit of taunt attached.

He had seen her in civilian clothes before; but, it still hadn’t lost its touch. She looked pretty good in skinny jeans and a black leather jacket. Her hair was still in a bun and she had traded her plain stud nose piercing for a little gem. It was sparkling in the light cast from his bar's sign and stood out dramatically against her pale skin. "H-hey, hey, uhm, wow, didn't ex-e-spe- uhm - do you wanna go in and-" Elliot gestured at the door with his hand. Wraith looked patient, unbothered by his stuttering. "Water," he ended bluntly.

Wraith let out a short breath through her nose, that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. She removed her hands from her pockets to reveal pale fingers, her nails painted black and only barely chipped. It was like ebony on ivory. "Yeah," she agreed, nodding slightly. Elliot bent down to scoop up the keys and pushed the still unlocked doors open.

Wraith strolled inside and waited patiently while Elliot locked the door from the inside. “Eh – sorry if that’s weird – but we’re closed and people try to-” Elliot explained, pausing mid lock to look back at Wraith. She interrupted him calmly, “I understand.” As Elliot finished locking the place up, Wraith walked over to the bar and sat down at the end, where she knew he kept the cans of soda in a cooler beneath the counter.

As soon as the doors were closed, the noises from outside were almost completely drowned out, casting them in silence, minus the sounds of Elliot’s footsteps. He shuffled over quickly and got behind the counter. Wraith parted her lips, intending to make a request. Elliot, however, suddenly lit up with a grin. “Club soda and cherry?” he offered, arms opening as if he was asking for a hug, shoulders raising confidentially. Wraith’s brow lifted slightly and she placed her arms on the bar top to lean in a little. “How’d you know that?” she asked, giving away that he had guessed correctly. Elliot was still smiling when he folded up his long sleeves so that they were bunched up at his elbows. He reached under the table to retrieve a bottle of club soda, an empty glass, and some cherry syrup.

“That’s all you ever drink at the compound – y’know, besides water,” he answered as he poured. He scooped some ice into the glass first and followed with the liquids. However, before handing the drink to Wraith, he added something else. “Bet they never make it like this, though,” he teased, pouring in some real, fresh cherries. They floated like beautiful, red ornaments in the clear liquid, dancing with the ice.

Wraith smiled, just a little. “They don’t,” she agreed as Elliot placed the glass in front of her, admiring his work. “What do I owe you?” she asked, not yet reaching for the glass. “Ah. It’s just soda. Don’t worry about it,” Elliot immediately brushed her off with a wave of his hand. Wraith looked doubtful for a moment whilst Elliot awaited eagerly for her to try it, an excited, almost child-like look in his eyes.

She eventually gave in and raised the glass to her pale lips. It was then that Elliot realized that she wasn’t wearing makeup. She never did; so, he really shouldn’t have found it strange. But, after a night of looking at many painted faces, her natural one stood out. There was something oddly charming about being able to see the pores on her cheeks, the wrinkles under her eyes – from stress, undoubtedly – blemishes of living.  Maybe, he liked it because it made her seem real.

Elliot watched silently, mentally taking note of the fact that she had, in that sip, drawn a cherry past her lips. When she sat the glass down, she chewed it slowly. Wraith always looked stoic and she continued to do whilst sucking on the cherry. However, Elliot could see the faintest glimmer of delight in her pale eyes. He drew in his fist triumphantly.

“Better than those shmucks at the compound, amiright?” he proclaimed. Wraith’s lip twitched a little and she nodded. As in usual Elliot fashion, he continued talking. “It was pretty uneventful today – the usual stuff, anyway – y’know, had to throw a guy out and chicks thinking they don’t have to pay and some toddlers thinking I won’t check ID – what about you?” Wraith’s eyes flashed down to her glass before returning to his face. “Same,” she replied, plainly. “Good. I mean - I don’t know what you do when you’re not in the games; but, hopefully, it’s good stuff – I mean stuff you like or whatever.” Wraith’s eyes moved down to the bar top and she lifted her glass for another sip.

“So – ugh – what brings you here, anyway? Thought you hated this sort of thing: crowded places,” Elliot asked. Wraith kept her eyes down. Her bangs were like curtains framing her face. Elliot didn’t realize it immediately; but, he was staring at her for more reasons than just the sake of conversation. It was different than seeing her during the games, when they were either in the midst of battling other squads or desperately trying to kill each other. Normally, when he saw her, they were allies or enemies, but only for a little while. He didn’t know if he could call Wraith his friend, as much as he wanted to. She didn’t seem to have time for that.

Wraith looked up at him like she was contemplating her answer. Her bright, blue eyes were as striking as always. Normally, they stared at him either with the intention to kill or with the dedication to persevere. For once, she seemed relaxed, albeit deep in thought. Even though it was a harmless question, Elliot suddenly felt like he had asked her something inappropriate. He lifted his hands in defeat. “Not that it matters or anything,” he stated casually. “You’re welcomed here anytime.”

Wraith lifted a hand, resting her elbow on the bar, and laid her jaw against her knuckles. “Do you ever,” she began, “get a feeling? Like you just… need to go somewhere and do something?” Elliot was quiet, staring at her as if he didn’t know how to respond. “That’s why I’m here,” she added on quietly. Suddenly, Elliot let out a sharp, brief howl, a laugh that was clearly forced. “What did the voi-” Elliot began, some part of him subconsciously barfing out a joke. He stopped himself, regretting it before it even fully left his lips. Elliot cleared his throat pathetically and looked down at his hands where they gripped the edge of the bar.

He searched his mind for a change of conversation and found it immediately. “I’m glad you came to visit, actually.” When Elliot gained the courage to look back up, Wraith was looking at him with a confused, yet soft, expression. “You GOTTA check out this baby!” he exclaimed, immediately bouncing back to his usual, excited self. He whirled around to the other side of the bar and made a beeline for the stereo by the dancefloor. “I upgraded the stereo system a month ago,” he explained, standing next to the stereo and presenting it with a dramatic pose. Wraith rotated in her seat and watched him with the faintest bit of amusement on her face.

“I saved up for this – yes, the bar has a budget, thank you very much,” he babbled as he turned on the stereo. Wraith rolled her eyes a little at that comment, making sure he didn’t notice. “It’s state of the art: surround sound - without damaging your ears - and when the bass hits just right, you can FEEL it in your bones! Come on, you gotta try it out!” Before Wraith got the opportunity to respond, the music had already started. It was a techno beat, smooth enough to be pleasant on the ears, but fast enough that someone could easily dance to it… and that was exactly what Elliot started doing.

He was alternating between shuffling his feet, turning around, twisting his hips, shifting his arms one way, then the other. She realized, pretty quickly, that he had a pattern down, and was enjoying himself, or, maybe, he was smiling because he knew she was watching. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging!” he called out, not yet breaking the movement. Wraith shook her head rapidly, despite knowing full well he wasn’t looking at her properly. “No way,” she responded, her tone coming out strangely soft.

She was smiling at him… and she hadn’t even realized it.

It wasn’t until Elliot looked up at her that Wraith realized she was smiling. As soon as their eyes met, she wiped it away. “Laaaame,” Elliot replied. “It’s not like I can make a decoy to keep me company,” he added on, gesturing to his civilian clothes. She looked away from him for a moment to shake her head a little. When she looked back at him, he made a show of opening his arms and wagging his fingers to beckon to her, rolling his hips a little too. “You’re joking,” she stated, plainly. Elliot continued the bizarre combination of hip swiveling and finger wagging until she stood up.

“Come on, everybody can learn how to dance,” Elliot stated, stopping his moves for a moment, as Wraith approached. She looked cautious, like she was entering a battlefield, not a dancefloor. She didn’t even look that uneasy entering the ring. “Not everyone,” Wraith correctly him. “Even grumpy britches,” he suggested with a smile. He hadn’t called her that in a while, not since they first met, the first time they were matched together in the games. Back then, she didn’t talk much, even far less than she did these days.

He offered her his hands. Wraith looked down at Elliot’s hands, then up at his face, her expression showing she didn’t understand what he was asking. Elliot stepped a little closer to her and moved his hands slowly, giving her plenty of opportunity to step away or stop him. He gently took hold of her clothed forearms. “Rule number 1: loosen up,” he teased, wiggling her arms a little like a child would do to their mother. She glared at him, in a manner that wasn’t the least bit menacing, and briefly contemplated pulling her arm free so she could smack him.

Elliot started to move then, swaying his hips a little, rotating his feet slightly whilst doing so. Wraith could see that he was moving with the beat. While he did so, still holding Wraith gently by her forearms, he started to sway her arms. He was wearing a soft smile, like he was trying to cheer her up. Her eyes shifted away from his face and moved down his body, examining his movements like he was teaching her a new fighting technique. “Come on, just move to the music,” he whispered, encouragingly. She glanced up at him, her face suggesting she had no idea where to begin.

She started to move, then. However, it wasn’t anything anyone would consider a dance. She was swaying, sure, but it looked more like she was pacing in place and contemplating something than trying to follow a beat. Elliot let out a little snort through his nose. For a moment, he forgot who was in front of him. “Ya gotta-” he began, removing his hands from her forearms and sliding them over her waist. There was clothing between them; yet, she felt the touch like it was bare.

Wraith flinched away like he had burned her. Elliot immediately drew his hands back. “Oh s-shit – Wraith, I’m sor-” he began, sounding more sincere than she had ever heard him before. “No – it’s fine,” she interrupted sharply. “Just - surprised me,” she added on, immediately realizing how bad it had looked.

Wraith swallowed the rock in her throat, wondering why that touch had startled her so much. Of course she had touched, and been touched by, him before… on the battlefield, when he stabbed a syringe into her chest and yanked her to her feet, when he grabbed her forearm and hoisted her up the edge of a building or a cliffside. His hand had jabbed teasingly at her shoulder, smacked her on the back, and unceremoniously punched her directly across the face. But, this wasn’t the apex games. This wasn’t Mirage. This was Elliot Witt. And, yet, she was still Wraith.

As always, Elliot broke the tension as smoothly as one might expect. “No worries! I have that affect on women,” he proclaimed, sounding proud despite the fact that it wasn’t a compliment. He did, however, accomplish getting a fond scoff out of Wraith. He turned to the stereo and shut it off, casting them in silence. She wanted to apologize and was about to, before Elliot cleared his throat. “So, uhm,” he began as he turned back to Wraith. “I – uh – had a balcony installed, too. Do you wanna check it out?” he offered.

Wraith wondered, for a moment, why he hadn’t been more concerned by her reaction. Was it indifference? Or was it understanding? Elliot never seemed disturbed by the strange things about her: the void, the voices, the way her arm twitched every so often, to name a few. For someone who talked so much, Elliot was strangely hard to read. “Yeah,” she answered, the simple word coming out warmly.

The railing by the stairs had an odd pale look to them, leading Wraith to believe that the vertical bars were actually lights. When the bar was dark, minus the luminescence of the bar and the dance floor, the stairs likely lit up, as well. The stairs led to automatic doors and then to a cozy balcony. It was decorated with a few stools and tall tables and gave a stunning view of the street.

Wraith placed her arms on the railing and admired the view. Behind her, Elliot was also admiring the view, but not the same view. She could hear the music from one of the nearby clubs. It wasn’t loud enough for her to distinguish the song, however. Elliot joined her by the rails, leaning his back against it. He pulled out his phone and pretended to check his text messages.

“Nice tattoo, by the way,” Wraith suddenly muttered, a small smirk gracing her lips. In the corner of her eye, she could see Elliot twitch a little. “You saw that, huh?” he asked, sounding oddly sheepish. It hadn’t really occurred to him, when she saw him half naked in bed, that it would have been front and center. He was pretty covered during the games, wore button ups and scarfs in public: it was almost always hidden and most people didn’t know about it. The women that he brought to bed, most of the time, were strangers and rarely ever asked about it: it was just ink to most people.

Wraith expected Elliot to begin yapping away about it. When he didn’t, she turned to him with a confused look. He still had his phone in his hand, but looked up at her to meet her gaze. His eyebrows shot up at the face she was giving him. “What?” he asked with a little chuckle. “You’re being quiet,” she commented bluntly. Elliot let out a sharp laugh and clutched his phone to his chest so he wouldn’t drop it. “Come on! I don’t talk THAT much…” Wraith didn’t mean to; but, she knew she was making a face at him because he surrendered so quickly. He huffed and pouted, “okay – I guess – I just – it’s-”

“-it’s okay,” she interrupted him, gently. “I should have realized that it meant that much to you,” she muttered, casting her eyes back out to the city. Elliot shoved his phone back into his pocket and turned around so that he, too, was facing the city. In the corner of her eye, she could see his hands grip the railing tightly. “It’s… for my brothers,” he explained. “When they went missing…” Wraith’s eyes shifted back to him. He abruptly let go of the railing and folded his forearms, and leaned in, to match her stance. Without his signature goggles on his forehead, his bangs fell heavy over his face.

Before she could reply, he suddenly looked up at her and brushed his hair out of his face. “Hey – ugh – downstairs, a minute ago, you were gonna tell me something – but, I said something d-dumb and – ugm – what – what was it?” Elliot babbled on. Right. He had asked why she was here. She likely wasn’t going to be honest with him, then, and she didn’t want to be honest with him, now. “I think I forgot something at your place,” she answered, her voice smooth, as if there was truth to it. Elliot stood up straight, believing her. “Ah. Well, I was gonna close anyway, so – let’s head out…?” She nodded.

[augustmoon259]

For I shall already have forgotten you CHAPTER 7: TRICK, OR TREAT?

Madeline wakes up and reaches for her phone laying on the nightstand. It’s 8 am. As her awareness returns to her, she sees Bucky and Kumarie playing together. Madeline’s lips quirk up as she gives both of them a quick pet on the head before going to start her day.

After brushing her teeth, Madeline heads to the kitchen. She expected to see Alfred there, as he had told her that he was an early riser. Contrary to Madeline’s expectations, Alfred was nowhere to be found. It had only been 20 minutes since she woke up, so Madeline decided to cook breakfast for her and Alfred.

Madeline wiped sweat off her forehead as she observed the results of her labor: fluffy pancakes topped with butter and maple syrup, crispy strips of bacon, wholesome fruit parfaits,  and freshly made coffee. Madeline’s stomach growled, but it would have to wait until she found Alfred.

It was almost 9:30 now but still there was no sign of the house’s owner. Madeline surmised that Alfred was still sleeping in his room. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought that he had gone to sleep late because of her. Madeline made her way to Alfred’s room. She was just about to knock on his door when it opened from inside.

“Hey Maddie…” Alfred yawned as he greeted Madeline. “What’s up...? Is it morning time already....?”

“Oh! Yes! I was just about to wake you up actually. I made breakfast.”

Alfred seemed to be more alert after he heard her statement.

“Woah! You made breakfast?! Now I gotta hurry up and eat it!”

He rushes off, leaving Madeline feeling bemused. Alfred is already sitting at the dining table when she returns to the kitchen, making her wonder if he even took the time to brush his teeth.

As if he read her mind, Alfred beams as he remarks, “Don’t worry! I brushed my teeth! Now let’s dig in!”

Alfred grabs his fork and chews on a large bite of his pancakes. His eyes widen as he prepares to eat another.

“Wow, this tastes amazing! You’re a great cook Maddie!”

Madeline blushes as she plays with her food.

“No problem Al...Consider this thanks for helping me after my nightmare yesterday..."

There’s a gasp from Alfred as he momentarily stops eating.

“No way! You called me Al! You’ve been calling me Alfred up until now!”

“Well, yeah...You already call me Maddie, so I might as well call you by a nickname too, right?”

“Yay! Mission: Become Friends with Maddie has officially been completed!” Alfred stands up and does a short victory dance before sitting back down. “And you don’t have to worry about yesterday. That’s what friends do!”

Madeline’s heart felt light as she and Alfred continued to talk and enjoy breakfast together.

When they finished, Alfred was ready to start the day.

“Okay Maddie! You know the costume I asked you to get? You can go put it on now! We’re gonna be in costume all day!”

So Madeline went to do exactly that. Half an hour later, as she finished dressing herself, she examined her reflection in the mirror. Madeline had braided her hair into a pair of 3-strand braids, one on each side of her head. She wore an open-fronted gown which laced closed across a kirtle. The outer fabric matched the red of her bodice, while the rest was white. Madeline’s skirt went down to her mid-calf, underneath which she wore white leggings and black old-fashioned buckle shoes. To complete her look, she wore a long red hooded cloak and carried an empty wicker basket.

Satisfied with her appearance, Madeline made her way to Alfred’s room for the second time that day. As before, when she was prepared to knock, he startled her by opening the door first.

“Maddie! Can you guess what I am?”

Alfred wore pants that were tattered at the edges; his shirt was in a similar condition, frayed at the bottom. Alfred’s bright blonde hair was covered by a brown wig and his face obscured by a wolf mask. The upper half of his face could no longer be seen; Alfred’s cerulean eyes stared at her through his mask. A wolf pelt was thrown around his shoulders. Madeline spotted wolf ears on top of his head and a fluffy tail behind him.

“Hm...Are you...the Big Bad Wolf?”

“That’s right! I am! Isn’t it just great we ended up in matching costumes?”

“But Al, don’t you like heroes? The Big Bad Wolf isn’t exactly a hero..."

Alfred gives her a sly wink in return. “You’ll just have to find out why I chose this costume then, huh?”

He checks the time on his phone.

“Let’s see...It’s about eleven, so we have some time before our first stop of the day.” Alfred looks up and grins at her. “Do you want to visit my favorite cafe?”

The two of them had a great time visiting museums, going on scavenger hunts, taking pictures with others in costume, and more.

The highlight of Madeline’s day so far was the National Air and Space Museum. Alfred loved space, so it was unsurprising that he would take her there. Some of the Star Wars costumes impressed her, almost as much as the actual museum exhibitions themselves. They had taken a break afterwards to eat the food they had bought at the cafe: Halloween themed foods like bat tortilla chips with mango salsa, spider pizzas, pumpkin deviled eggs, etc.

Finally, it was time for the last event of the day, the Night of the Living Zoo at the Smithsonian National Zoological Park.

The zoo was decked out in Halloween decorations: lights, skeletons, witches, and cobwebs. There were a range of spectacular performances, from fire eaters to jugglers. Alfred and Madeline met dancing dinosaurs, Jessie and James from Team Rocket, and even had the chance to spectate a wedding (it wasn’t real of course).

Alfred was incredibly enthusiastic when they visited the animal exhibits.

“Maddie! Look! Caiman lizards! Sleeping on that rock! They’re super chilling, together! Buddies!”

“Oh hey, look at those turtles! It’s a turtle party! Turtle party, turtle party, who’s got the pizza for a turtle party?!”

“Look at this one! Hm, what’re they called? ...Rock hyrax? Nah, I’m calling him Mr. Cheeks...Oh no! Mr. Cheeks doesn’t look very happy with me!”

If the night had ended there, Madeline would have been satisfied. She didn’t know what could possibly top Alfred’s amusing commentary.

She and Alfred ended up in the crowd that was gathered around a stage. The stage, previously used for band performances and live karaoke, was now the platform for the last event of the night, the Halloween costume contest. The announcer explained that there were several categories, ranging from the “most unique” costume to “best duo”.

Unlike the other categories, wherein contestants would line up on stage and the audience could cast their vote for best costume, the duo category required a story. In other words, the duos have to create a short narrative and perform it in front of the audience. The “best duo” were judged not only on the originality of their costumes, but how well they performed together.

Madeline was extremely nervous. She knew that she and Alfred would be competing together, but not like this!

“Alfred, what do we do? We don’t have a story!”

“Maddie, it’s okay! I got a plan. All you have to do is act like your usual self.”

“But-”

“Trust me!”

Without his mask, Alfred’s puppy dog eyes, combined with his ears and tail, made Madeline capitulate.

“Okay. I trust you.”

Alfred smiled one of his enigmatic smiles and disappeared somewhere alone. Madeline wrung her hands together as other duos performed. She and Alfred were the last to go, and soon it would be their turn.

The announcement that it was now time for them to perform startled Madeline out of her trance. She was surprised to see the appearance of the stage. Projection technology had transformed it from a normal outdoor stage to a tranquil forest...and did she hear the sound of chirping birds? Buzzing insects, croaking frogs, and bubbling brooks?

Puzzled, but mustering up her courage, Madeline stepped out onto the stage. Reminding herself of the fairytales she grew up on, she pretended that she was Red Riding Hood herself. Madeline twirled her skirt and hummed. She pretended to walk and pick up flowers to place in her basket. She sat down and closed her eyes, as if resting underneath a tree.

With her eyes shut and the ambient noises of nature, Madeline could believe she was actually in a forest. There was no crowd watching her, just her and the trees.

Moments passed before she felt like something was...poking her face? Could it be Alfred? She jerked her eyes open and stared at what was disturbing her rest.

It was Alfred, but he was on all fours as he scrambled away from her. He put as much distance as he could between the two of them.

Madeline reached her hands out to stop him from escaping altogether.

“Wait! I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m sorry!”

Alfred paused. He was growling softly and looked like he would run away again. Madeline approached him slowly, until she was close enough to touch him. She rested her hand on his head, and Alfred stopped growling.

Madeline lowered herself to give Alfred a hug. She felt the moment when Alfred hugged her back. She removed her arms to look at Alfred. He was no longer on all fours, but kneeling like her.

“Do you have a name?”

Alfred shook his head.

“Well, my name is Madeline. Do you mind if I call you Wolf?”

He nodded.

“Wolf, do you want to be friends?”

Alfred nods again.

“Alright Wolf. Since we’re friends, let’s not be afraid of each other, okay? Here, let me hug you again.”

So Madeline did. This time, Alfred accepted her hug readily.

“Friends care about each other. They show that they care about each other by doing things like that.”

As she was preparing to stand up, Alfred grabbed the hem of her skirt. Madeline watched as he dug his hands into one of his pants pockets to search for something. From Alfred’s pocket emerged a single yellow dandelion.

He offered the dandelion to her unsurely. She stared at it before clasping her hands around his to take it. Madeline placed it behind her right ear.

“Thank you Wolf. Now come on! Let’s explore the forest together.”

She held his hand as they left the stage.

They won the contest.

Madeline was happy they did, but after their performance, she had not stopped rambling and questioning Alfred. Did he plan all of this? How’d he know she’d react that way? Alfred would laugh and tell her that he “knew she could do it!”. She’d be mad at him for putting her on the spot like that, but they did get a free pair of tickets for admission to Six Flags...

When all was said and done, it had been a memorable night for Madeline. People had even asked for autographs from her! Madeline was thankful Alfred had made this the best Halloween she’d ever had.

[peterparkerisababy]

Get You/Starker Secret Santa

@cammerel happy holidays, here ya go bb! hope you like it! 

@starkersecretsanta

WARNINGS: Mpreg, brief mention of abortion 

(Ignore the shitty title)

Peter woke up, with a soreness all over his body, in a strange bed.

He was confused for a couple of seconds, but he recovered as he felt the warm body spooning him.

He blushed all over, remembering how his previous night had gone. He went out to celebrate the end of the semester, and gone home with a really hot guy.

The person holding him started to stir, and Peter sat up and yawned wiping his eyes as he mumbled a bashful 'good morning'.

"Good morning, beautiful," a sleepy, familiar voice slurred, and-fucking shit.

Peter jumped to confirm his suspisions and Tony, the same man that he spent almost all of his time with and had a huge crush on, was cuddling him aftet a one night stand. Was it a one night stand? Peter hoped not.

"Oh, fuck," Peter gasped, and Tony-he'd dropped Mr. Stark after he'd practically moved in with him-chuckled.

"Nice to see you, too."

Peter blushed again, slowly relaxing.

"I'm-I'm uh, I'm sorry, I'm still a bit sleepy. Um...want me to make, like, breakfast or something?" He asked, not really understanding one-night stand protocol.

"That sounds great. I make an amazing black coffee, if you'd like," Tony joked, making Peter giggle as he slid on a shirt that stopped mid thigh.

He walked to the door and stopped short, staring at how huge Tony's house was. He'd explored every floor of the house except for Tony's personal floor.

"The upstairs kitchen is to your right," Tony called from behind him. And then, in a quiet, shameful voice, "Fri, cancel One Night Stand protocol."

Peter heard him and blushed (but to be fair, his senses were constantly at 11, did Tony honestly expect him not to hear him?) as he shuffled to the kitchen.

He went to the refrigerator and started to make breakfast, pushing the gradually-increasing insecure thoughts out of his mind.

"Hey, Pete, I'm real sorry, but I gotta go-are those eggs?" Tony asked, coming into the room in a suit and looking into the pan of food Peter had.

Peter nodded. "Just like you like them."

Tony stood there for a moment before he sat down. "I can be a bit late."

Peter brought him a plate of eggs, bacon, and slightly burnt toast.

"Petey, this is incredible," Tony praised, making Peter blush for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

They ate in silence, Peter wracking his mind for something to say.

Sorry about the toast.

This is a nice kitchen.

I love that suit.

Last night was the greatest time of my life and I've been dreaming about it all my life.

"Pete, I gotta go-um, meeting," Tony interrupted the silence, shoving his chair back. "Happy'll be back in about 30 minutes and he'll give you a ride. You can take a shower and steal some clothes, okay?"

Before Peter could really say anything, Tony was walking out, entering an elevator and disappearing.

Peter sat there, mouth dropped open, before he finally pulled himself together, slowly cleaning the mess he'd made cooking as tears started rolling down his cheeks. Tony had really slept with him and abandoned him.

As he cleaned, questions swirled through his mind. Was Tony coming back? Did he think Peter wasn't good enough?

Was this his plan all along?

Peter finished cleaning and laughed bitterly to himself. Tony had left him and Peter just cleaned his kitchen.

"Pete, you here?" Happy called from the elevator.

Peter's eyes widened. He ran to the bedroom and grabbed his backpack and some sweatpants, before he put on his web slingers and left through the window, too upset to care who saw him.

***

"Hey, Pete," May called, not looking up from her phone, having memorized Peter's footsteps. "What's wrong? I-"

May stopped mid sentence when she saw his face.

"Baby, what's wrong?" She asked, standing up. Peter walked a few steps forward and dropped into her open arms.

"Is it okay if... I don't talk about it?" He mumbled, voice cracking in the middle of his sentence. May frowned, gently leading them to the couch. She kissed his forehead and played in his curls, soothing him as best as she could.

She didn't even mention the hickeys.

***

Peter was studying for chemistry a week later when he felt it.

Something in his stomach stirred. It wasn't hunger, it wasn't sadness, it wasn't anger, it wasn't arousal, and it wasn't fear.

It was just...different.

***

Five weeks after that, he was sick.

It wasn't like any sickness he'd had before. He was glued to toilet and had thrown up everything he'd eaten, and even when he'd completely emptied his stomach, he was still there, dry heaving.

May entered the room with a cool washcloth.

"Sweetheart, you've been throwing up for a week," she told him, feeling his forehead. "You're clammy."

May's expression suddenly changed into a fearful one.

"Peter," she began, forcing her voice to be steady. "I need you to completely honest, and I'm not asking this as your aunt, but as a friend. When was the last time you had sex?"

Peter groaned, trying to remember. "Six weeks ago."

May's eyes widened even more, but she still tried to stay calm as she met Peter's eyes.

"Peter," she said, "you might be pregnant."

Peter threw up again.

***

We need to talk.

Peter sent Tony the message later that day, curled up in a blanket with a bucket in front of him.

He waited all day for Tony to respond, throwing up to keep himself busy, but he never did. So he sent a second message.

Can we meet up?

No response.

Tony?

Nothing.

Are you seriously ghosting me?

He wondered if he had been blocked.

He cried himself to sleep.

***

"Peter!"

Dr. Cho smiled as Peter entered her office a week later in a hoodie, followed by Aunt May.

"What's thi-"

"Can you be sworn to secrecy? Please?"

She laughed.

"Peter, I've known you were Spiderman for years, I think I can-"

"You can't tell Tony," May interrupted. Peter felt a stab of guilt, knowing that May thought that Peter was just scared of losing Tony's mentorship.

She frowned. "I'm sorry, but anything that happens with Peter has to be reported to him. It's the-"

"Fuck the Baby-Monitor protocol, Helen, you can't tell Tony," Peter pleaded. "Please."

Frowning, she nodded. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm pregnant," he told her.

She drew a shaky breath, before she composed herself. "Peter, I really should-"

May gave her a look. Dr. Cho nodded again and turned to Peter, grabbing a cup and handing it to him.

"Pee in this and we'll go from there."

***

Peter was lying in his bed staring blankly at the ceiling.

They had driven back in silence, and the second they got home, Peter had gone into his room and shut the door.

Dr. Cho had determined that he was about a month and a half. She printed out an ultrasound for him that had a really small gray blob in the middle. The baby. His baby.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed right then.

Hey, Pete. We do have a lot to talk about.

Peter froze, thinking Dr. Cho had snitched on him, until his phone buzzed again.

Me leaving the other day was totally not cool and I was a huge jerk for doing it, and I apologize. I also shouldn't have ignored your texts, but I was really busy, thought I had responded, and forgot about it. I'm sorry about that, too. Could we meet up soon and work things out in person? :*

Was Tony sincere, he wondered, or was he just trying to get into his pants again?

He turned off his phone and cupped his stomach. There was a bit of a bump there, already, that could be played off as him not patrolling as much and getting a bit chunky.

Then again, Tony was a genius. He knew what pregnant people looked like. What if he'd, somehow, seen Peter and already knew he was pregnant?

What if he wanted him to get an abortion?

Peter's heart dropped at the thought. Did Tony want kids? He might not want to be bogged down by a 22 year-old and a baby. He'd probably make Peter abort it or set it up for adoption.

He pulled out his laptop and spent hours googling stories of abortion and adoption. By the time he was done, he had cried even more and sworn to not do either.

"I'm sorry,"  he whispered to the air, trying to steady his breathing. He inhaled shakily, then exhaled, slowly calming down.

He could hear familiar footsteps coming to his door, and then there was a knock.

"Come in," he called. May entered the room, holding her keys.

"I'm, um, going to get us some dinner. Anything specific you want?"

"Um-" If he was honest, he was even hungrier than he'd even been as Spiderman.

"Pizza okay?" She asked. "I know you've been talking about it."

He actually did want some pizza, really badly, to be honest. So he sat up, sighing.

"Actually, I do," he told her. He walked to her, leaning into her side. She pecked his forehead.

"We'll get through this, Peter."

***

"Guess those cravings have kicked in, huh?" May laughed, grabbing Peter's 7th empty pizza box. "Pineapple, anchovies, and syrup with on a pizza with no sauce." "Ugh, if I taste any marinara sauce I think I'll die," Peter groaned, before he pouted. "I'm gonna run to the store, want anything?" "No, not really," she replied nonchalantly. He grabbed his wallet and left.

At the store, he practically bought the whole snack aisle. As he walked out, he saw a bogo sale on photo albums.

He bought four, just to be safe.

***

"Peter, why did you call us down here on 'urgent notice' if you're just gonna mope?" MJ asked.

"We're worried," Ned added in a softer tone of voice, taking a bite of his pizza.

Peter sighed, sitting up in his seat. "I'm pregnant."

Ned choked on his pizza, MJ harshly hitting his back. He drank his soda and she let him go, turning to Peter.

"Pregnant?!" She yelled, catching the attention of everyone around them. "How?!"

"You know how," Peter attempted to joke, even though his face and tone were serious.

"Congrats, man!" Ned cheered, but MJ didn't let up.

"Who's the father? What are you gonna do with it? Is this a prank?"

"I'm keeping it, it's not a prank, and the father is...Mr. Stark."

Ned covered his mouth and MJ's eyes widened.

"Don't tell anyone," he begged. "Please."

He put his head in his arms, and MJ and Ned put their hands on his back reassuringly.

"We'll support you, Peter," Ned promised.

"As long as you name it after us," MJ teased.

Peter laughed weakly.

***

By month three, his morning sickness had barely decreased, he was always tired, and you could really tell he was pregnant. He went to Dr. Cho monthly, since she wanted to make sure the spider bite didn't affect the baby, and chose to keep the gender a secret.

He had transferred to MIT, changed most of his classes to online, and gotten an apartment where Tony would never think to find him.

MJ and Ned FaceTimed and texted him everyday, and they visited as often as they could afford, bringing him Spiderman themed baby clothes and toys.

May was still staying in New York, visiting as often as possible and sending him half of her paycheck each month. She would often talk about Tony, telling him how he would show up looking for Peter.

"He misses you, Peter," she told Peter as she cooked him some soup.  "You should talk with him. I'm certain he wouldn't fire you because you're pregnant-as a matter of fact, he could be a great figure in the baby's life."

Peter stiffened and his eyes opened. He sat up on the couch he had been resting on and decided it was now or never.

"Um, May?" He whispered.

"Hmm?" She hummed, stirring her food.

"That's the thing...Tonyismybaby'sfather."

May stilled at the stove, making Peter bite his lip nervously.

She turned to him slowly, an unreadable expression on her face before she sighed, moving the pot off the burner and grabbing two bowls and two spoons.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" She asked, spooning soup into the bowls. "I'm not mad, just disappointed."

"I thought you'd be super mad with me," Peter frowned.

"Peter...I know. I knew after you came home from his house with hickeys everywhere. I was just waiting for you to tell me."

He practically deflated, stress seeping from his bones and turning to relief. This pregnancy would be so, so much easier if he knew May wasn't disappointed or disgusted with him.

"So you're not mad?"

May handed him a bowl and a ginger-ale-the only drink, other than water, he could stomach-before sitting down herself. "Not mad, just hurt you didn't tell me. And I don't care for the power imbalance or the age difference-"

"I made the first move," he spilled, quick to remedy any of May's concerns. "And I'm able to get a good job without him. And if he ever tried anything bad, I'd stop him, you know that. But he wouldn't, Tony's an amazing guy-"

"But do you love him?" May interruped, staring into his soul.

Peter inhaled shakily, shocked, before he answered.

"I really do."

May smiled. "As long as you two love each other and you're happy...then I'm okay with it."

Peter grinned so wide he thought his face would crack, one of the many burdens on his shoulders lifting.

"There's a new Stranger Things, wanna watch?" She offered.

He nodded, glad to change the subject, and the two of them put their feet on the table and ate, relaxed, as the show played.

***

When he was four months, he was sitting in Dr. Cho's office, holding his stomach as he waited for another visit.

"I'm way too big for four months," he whined as Dr. Cho walked in.

"My favorite patient," she smiled. "This will be a short appointment, is that okay? Just an ultrasound."

"Okay," he smiled, getting on the bed.

Dr. Cho poured the familiar cold gel over his stomach, Peter barely flinching, before rubbing the wand and spreading it.

Peter beamed happily as the familiar blob showed on-screen. Dr. Cho was scanning the screen when her eyes suddenly furrowed and she added more gel. Peter's spidey senses shot to 100 as she peered at the screen.

"What is it?" He demanded. She ignored him, still watching the screen until her face broke into a smile.

"Peter, it looks like you'll be having twins."

"You're joking." Dr. Cho shook her head. "Twins? Really?"

He grinned so wide his face hurt, before he teared up.

"I'm happy, it's just these..."

"Hormones?" Cho finished. "I understand."

She handed him paper towels and cleaned up a bit as Peter composed himself. At the end of the visit, she had a conflicted expression on her face as she held an envelope. She finally thrust it into Peter's hands.

"He really misses you, Peter," she told him. "I've never seem him this upset before."

"I just-" he stopped, sighing. "I don't know if he wants us."

"Peter," Cho said, "I know Tony, and I know he'll be elated about you and your babies."

Peter tossed the envelope in his bag, nodding grimly to Cho.

***

By month six he felt ugly, lonely, and worried.

Because he'd been seeing news articles of Tony, and in each one, he was drunk and looked miserable.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when he was staying with May and Tony came over at 2 in the morning. From his room, he could hear Tony begging  May for information on him. 

"Please, May," he pleaded, "I haven't seen him in months. Nobody will tell me anything and I'm going fucking crazy. I just want to know if he's okay and what I did wrong."

Peter took a deep breath.

"May...let him in," he called out, after covering his midsection with two huge blankets.

Tony practically broke down Peter's door, freezing when he saw him. Peter's heart raced as he slowly bent down.

"Pete," he mumbled, trying to say something else, but stopping.

He suddenly pulled Peter into a tight hug, and Peter could tell he was crying by the way his body shook, and Peter slowly started to cry with him.

May came to the doorway, prepared to intervene, but Peter gently waved her away. She nodded, walking away.

A few minutes later, Tony sniffled and pulled away, looking at Peter with hurt, red rimmed eyes.

"What did I do?" He whispered when he was somewhat composed, and that made Peter start sobbing harder.

"Tony, it wasn't you," he cried, "it was me, I'm-"

He slowly, nervously pulled the blankets away and watched as Tony's eyes widened.

"You-you're-?"

Peter nodded, sniffling. "They're yours."

Tony froze, a fresh wave of tears pouring down his face.

"I'm so sorry," Peter mumbled, "I was scared you'd have me abort them, or adopt them, but I couldn't, Tony. I love them."

"Them?"

Peter nodded. "They're twins."

Tony's eyes widened and he cleared his throat, shocked and teary eyed.

"Peter, I hate that you thought I wouldn't want them," Tony told him when his voice had somewhat steadied, "and I hate even more that you hid it. I understand that you were scared, but, fuck-"

He looked away. "I thought you hated me."

"I thought you would've hated me," Peter admitted.

"I could never hate you, Pete," Tony assured him. Peter smiled before yawning loudly.

"I'm gonna go," Tony told him, "and I'll be back tomorrow morning. We can talk and I'll bring breakfast."

Peter almost burst into tears again. "Please don't go," he begged. 

Tony smiled softly, happily, as he took off his socks, shoes, and pants, leaving him in his AC/DC shirt and boxers, crawling behind Peter and spooning him.

"Good night, Pete," he whispered, and Peter was out like a light.

The next day, when he woke up, Tony was still there. He smiled to himself, feeling a rough thumping against his side begin. He groaned, accidentally waking Tony up.

"Mornin', babe," Tony mumbled sleepily, "why're you squirmin'?"

Peter blushed at the rasp of Tony's voice and the nickname. "They're kicking me again, and it's always hardest when-"

"Kicking?" Tony interrupted, suddenly wide awake. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think about it," Peter admitted, which was true. May, MJ, and Ned all felt his bump anytime they saw him, so much so that he didn't think to offer.

Peter led Tony's hands to the small feet, who kicked faster.

"They really like you," Peter told him, astonished. "They've never kicked this hard."

"I have that effect on people," Tony joked. Then his face turned serious.

"Peter, I want to be a part of their lives," he said, "and if you would rather us co-parent, I am perfectly okay with that, but I would love for us to...get together."

"Get together? Like date?" Peter exclaimed excitedly, before he blushed, making Tony chuckle. "Yes, Tony."

Tony smiled, leaning forward and kissing him until May came in.

"I bought some lunch, you two slept late-"

She stopped.

"Am I interrupting something?" She smirked, hands on her hips.

"No," Peter grinned, leaning his head on Tony's shoulder. "What'd you get for lunch?"

***

Two and a half months later, Peter was in the hospital, cursing Tony for ever getting near him, and telling him to "go ahead and schedule a vasectomy, old man, because I am not doing this again-"

Until the babies came out. The moment he laid eyes on them, he teared up.

"I want more," he told Tony, who laughed in slight fear, remembering how he had been cussed out 30 minutes ago, until he saw them and yeah, he completely understood why Peter's tune had changed. They were perfect.

May, MJ, and Ned came right afterwards, bringing balloons and gifts and rushing to hold the twins.

"Oh, what are their names?" May cooed when it was her turn.

Peter and Tony exchanged a look.

"The boy is Anthony Edward, or AJ," Tony beamed proudly.

"And the girl is named Morgan May."

May teared up, looking at Peter.

"You mean it?" She whispered. Peter nodded, also tearing up (Cho had warned them of postpartum hormones, but it was a beautiful moment-everyone in the room got a bit choked up).

***

Tony and Peter got married when the twins were two.

When they were three, Peter announced he was pregnant again.

This time, Tony was the first to know.

[aweebwrites]

The Good Life

Cole snored as he slept like a log, exhausted after a hard day on the job. He was a construction site co-manager, in charge of building a new mall just two more out from their cozy suburb home. It was tough but a necessity. It was great finally having a day off which means he can sleep in all he wants…

“Pops. Hey dad!” A small figure climbed into bed, across the lump curled into his side on the right, making them groan. “Come on dad! Wake up!” Small hands smacked his cheeks and Cole groaned, peering an eye open.

“What is it Lloyd?” He mumbled, looking at the 8 year old with his blond bowl cut and big, bright green eyes.

“Daddy says it's your day to drive me to school.” He says with a grin, revealing a gap between his teeth from where he lost a canine tooth recently.

“No way. It's Jay's day…” Coke groaned, closing his eye again.

“Not so fast Cole. I dropped him off yesterday. Today's your day. You promised Zane too, remember?” Jay murmured from his left, peering a blue eye open then reaching up to ruffle their son's hair.

“Quit it pops!” Lloyd huffed, smacking his hand away from his hair. “Come on dad! If you sleep in, we're gonna be late!” He says, lifting Cole eyelid open to look at his brown eye then his green.

“Alright, alright already.” Cole groaned then picked him up off his chest as he sat up. “Where is your Daddy anyway?” He asked, setting him down so he could stretch and yawn.

“Making breakfast. He sent me to wake you up. It's pancake day!” Lloyd grinned then squirmed off the bed and running out of their room.

“Hmm? Pancakes?” Kai mumbled from Cole's right as he lifted his head, revealing a mop of brown hair.

“You heard the kid. Time to get up and out big guy.” Jay says as he sat up, wrapping his arms around Cole's thick, muscled one as he laid against his shoulder.

“I can hardly do that when you're clinging to me like that.” Cole says drily but pecked Jay's lips once he tilted his head up for one.

“I want sugar too.” Kai mumbled and Cole chuckled before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Kai's 5 o’clock shadow before pausing.

“Shouldn't you be at work by now?” Cole questioned and Kai only burrowed more into bed.

“Nah. Shade and I swapped shifts.” He mumbled into his pillow.

“Uh- didn't you say that was for next week? You know? The 15th? Today's the 8th.” Jay reminded, peering over at him.

Kai laid there for a moment.

“Oh fuck!” He yelled as he shot out of bed, rushing into the bathroom.

“That's $10 in the swear jar!” Cole called after him as Jay snickered into his shoulder.

“You've got somewhere to go too. I'm gonna see if I can get Zane to make chocolate chip pancakes.” Jay says, slipping out of bed and grabbing his robe along the way.

Cole watched him leave as he slipped it on before getting to his feet with a yawn, heading out to use their spare bathroom. So much for sleeping in...

Jay headed down the stairs then through the living room. He then paused at the kitchen entry to see Zane cleaning up Lloyd's face where blueberry stains lingered around his mouth and on his cheeks. He was even wearing one of the pink frilled aprons he loved so much. Today he was wearing the one Ki bought him that had red hearts in the design.

“Messy, aren't you. You're just like your fathers.” Zane says fondly, gently cleaning Lloyd's face. “There. Nice and clean.” He says, pulling back and cupping his cheek as he grinned at him.

It brought warmth into Jay's heart. He more than the rest of them had major doubts about taking on Lloyd so early into their relationship, when they didn't know what they were, what they would all become. But four years have passed since Lloyd's father died and three since their mentor, Lloyd's uncle followed. Lloyd was put in their care since his father's death since Mentor Wu was not only ill but was well into age. It was a tough time. None of them thought they had what it took to be parents. Zane never knew his mother and was orphaned at a young age. He was forced to face the memories, the emotions he felt towards his father to become the great parent he was today. They all had to. Jay was the only one with good experiences parent wise, even though he was adopted but he doubted himself. He was the goof who couldn't take anything serious after all.

They almost broke apart several times but then they would look to Lloyd, a child with no living family, a child who needed them and they pulled themselves together, worked through it. For him. Then for themselves. He was the best thing to happen to all of them. In fact, if it wasn't for their lovable, mischievous son, they would never had been together like this. Together and happy. While they all missed Garmadon and Wu, they would live on in their honor and take care of Lloyd. Not because they had to. But because they want to. He was theirs.

“How long do you plan on standing there?” Jay jolted to reality to find Zane inclining his head towards him as he flipped pancakes.

“I don't know. You and the squirt make a nice picture.” Jay says with a grin, walking in to wrap his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss against the back of his neck as he tipped.

“I’m not a squirt!” Lloyd huffed and both fathers looked over at his adorable pouting face. “Daddy says drinking milk helps bone grow so I drink lots everyday! I'm gonna become way taller than you are!” He says, sticking his tongue out at Jay.

“Ah but that's in the future. For now, you're a squirt.” Jay says, walking over to where he was seated around the kitchen island.

Lloyd huffed, looking away.

“Jay…” Zane sighed, placing a hand on his hip, looking at his lover in disappointment.

Jay only grinned back at him before turning to Lloyd.

“But you know, being a squirt isn't all that bad…” Jay hummed and Lloyd looked at him suspiciously.

He yelped once Jay swung him up off the chair and onto his shoulders.

“If you weren't a squirt, I couldn't do this!” Jay grinned, walking around the kitchen as Lloyd giggled, gripping his hair.

“No fooling around in the kitchen Jay.” Zane says fondly, returning his attention to breakfast.

“Aww…” Lloyd pouted as Jay set him down.

“You heard your mom- er, dad.” Jay says with a sheepish grin once Zane shot him a glare.

“No time to talk. Gotta go.” Kai says as he hastily swept into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge while adjusting his security uniform.

He's currently a security guard at the museum in the city and while he found the museum itself utterly boring, some of his highschool friends worked there as security guards as well. Such as Shade, Paleman, Ash, Tox and Gravis. Gravis actually worked in the space exhibit but he's around often enough that they could always chat things up.

“The old man mixed up his shift.” Lloyd told Zane once the blond looked confused.

“I thought I told you not to call me that? I'm literally the second youngest one here!” Kai huffed, taking out his lunch Zane set overnight.

“Whatever you say old man.” Lloyd says, beaming once Zane set a stack of pancakes before him.

“Honestly.” Kai grumbled then zipped his bag up. “I've gotta go.” He says then kissed Lloyd's, Jay's then Zane's cheek, snatching a pancake as he all but ran out, only pausing to peck Cole's lips.

“He's something else, isn't he.” Cole says with a smirk as he walking into the kitchen, hearing the sound of a bike pull out outside.

“That he is.” Zane mused, setting down another stack for Jay and Cole then himself.

“Krux is a real jerk though. Hopefully the others covered for him or else Krux might put in a bad word and get him transferred. Again.” Jay says as he took the maple syrup away from Lloyd before he empties the entire bottle.

“Nah. Krux may not like the younger generation but he and Kai share a hated for technology. He won't let him go just to get someone else like his brother Acronix.” Cole says as he began to eat.

“I met them once when I tagged along for Lloyd's field trip to the museum a month ago. They... Weren't the most pleasant people.” Zane says, setting down a mug of coffee for Cole, a glass of orange juice for Jay and a glass of milk for Lloyd.

He smiled once he collected a kiss on the cheek from each of them (Lloyd insisted on kissing his unkissed cheek because of dad cooties) then sat down with his own cup of Jasmine tea.

“Anything exciting going on at work today Jay?” Zane asked to make conversation.

While Zane himself was a stay at home father through choice, he did also have a job, working as an online tech support for Borg Industries. The hours are flexible and Cyrus was a friend of them all through Pixal whom they befriended in college. Jay also worked in Borg Industries as apart of the engineering team. While Mr.Borg may have offered them both jobs as a friend, they also had the qualifications and skill necessary. They excelled at it.

“It's mostly classified but we're almost done with the prototype for the Borg hover car.” Jay says proudly.

“Oh? Good job.” Cole mumbled around his pancakes.

“Don't talk while eating dad.” Lloyd says, his own mouth full of pancakes.

“Look who's talking!” Cole says after swallowing.

“Guys, please.” Jay says and of course- his mouth was full too, making them all laugh.

All except Zane.

“Boys.” He says firmly, giving them all a scolding look and they became sheepish.

“Sorry.”

_____________

“Shotgun!” Lloyd yelled and hopped into the front seat of their 3 year old BBV (Borg Beta V).

“You do realize there’s no-one else coming to take shotgun, right? And your booster seat is there for a reason… Right?” Cole says, amused as he slid in the driver’s seat.

“Shh. Let me dream dad.” Lloyd says, closing the door then buckling up.

“Dream away kiddo.” Cole says with a chuckle, buckling up as well.

“Seat belts! So we can be safe!” Lloyd yelled once he did and Cole huffed.

“That’s the point, yes.” He says then started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

They waved at Jay and Zane standing by the door before driving off.

“We’re going on a trip-”

“Oh god Lloyd please. I don’t want to have that stuck in my head again…” Cole groaned, cutting him off.

“Alright.” Lloyd says and Cole glanced at him suspiciously.

There was silence.

“EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!!! EVERYTHING IS COOL WHEN YOU’RE PART OF THE TEAM! EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!!!” Lloyd sung at maximum volume and Cole would have smacked his face into the steering wheel if he didn’t value his and their son’s life.

“Well. If you can’t beat them, join them.” Cole shrugged.

“EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!!! WHEN YOU’RE LIVING OUT A DREAM!!!”

By the time they pulled up to Lloyd’s middle school, they were wheezing with laughter.

“Alright, alright. Fun’s over. Time for school.” Cole says once he caught his breath.

“Ok. See you later dad.” Lloyd says as he unbuckled himself then hopped out.

“See yah kiddo.” Cole says with a fond smile, handing him his lunch bag.

Lloyd took it with a grin then closed the door and ran off to meet up with his friends Brad and Gene. They were his bullies in the beginning of his first year here but let’s just say… Zane can be very scary when he’s pissed off. Now, they were tightly knit friends. Cole waited until they walked inside the school building before pulling out, returning home. By the time he returned, Jay was there, waiting for the car, somehow already dressed and ready for work in the short time he left.

“She’s all yours.” Cole says as he slipped out of the car, leaving the keys in.

“Thanks Rocky.” Jay says, pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw before slipping into the car.

“Looks like it’s just you and me today, daddy.” Cole says with a wink.

“Ugh. Cole please.” Zane says with disgust, heading in as Jay pulled out.

Cole paused, rethinking his words before grimacing in disgust.

“Ok, not the best choice of words…” He says as he followed after him.

______________________________

Part 2

______________________________

(Tada! Here you are anon! I know there isn’t enough Kai and Lloyd dad time so no worries! I’m planning a part two for tomorrow! I hope you liked this part at least! Sorry for the lateness!)

[the-wlw-cafe]

The Assistant: Part 1 of the Linettiverse

@wlw5eva @little-magic-matt  @mcgrathandwives

The Linettiverse: A supercorp au where everything is the same except Gina Linetti is Lena’s assistant.

To Lillian’s utter disappointment, the new assistant was completely unremarkable. No combative training, no connections, not even a sign of above average intelligence. She wasn’t part of a minority or from a particularly disadvantaged background, so she also wasn’t one of Lena’s pet projects for good publicity. Lillian was utterly disappointed, because of all the capable people Lena could have hired as an assistant, she chose the woman who was leading a dance group called floorgasm.

At least it would make Lillian’s job easier by far.

Lillian Luthor was not used to being kept waiting. She had feigned a cough a grand total of four times, the cough increasing in volume each time. There was not a chance that the assistant (if Lillian hadn’t already looked through every file that existed on the woman called Gina Linetti, the neon sign flashing GINA in all colors of the rainbow would certainly have clued her in about the assistant’s name) had not noticed her standing there. By the third cough everyone on the floor had been alerted to her presence, she knew that by the pathetic squeak and the telltale splash the intern by the water cooler had let out. The assistant had yet to take her eyes of her screen. By the fifth cough, Linetti showed the first sign of acknowledging Lillian’s presence. She sighed.

And she kept sighing.

She sighed for an inordinately long amount of time, to the point where it sounded like someone slowly letting air out of an air mattress.

This was an outrage. Lena must have completely lost her mind, what on earth could have possessed her to hire this woman? A thought occurred to her, then, the equivalent of a bright floodlight suddenly illuminating the ugly truth. Lillian clearly had once again expected too much of her daughter.

It was obvious. This Gina Linetti must have some kind of dirt on her, some kind of sensitive information which had lead Lena to try and keep her as close as possible, since L-Corp could not afford being involved in the disappearance of a woman, not after what the media had done to Lex. As mortifying and telling as it was about the leadership capabilities of her daughter, this piece of information certainly opened quite a lot of possibility for Lillian.

Gina meanwhile had managed to pry her eyes off of her screen, glancing at Lillian with a gaze that could only be described as casually disinterested. Lillian had to swallow down the ire that bubbled up in her throat like vile, acidic vomit at this disgraceful display of disrespect.

Gina Linetti was not a rich woman. In fact, the research Lillian had her professionals do had yielded plentiful information on the assistant’s peculiar spending habits, some of which Lillian definitely wished she could unsee. There were only so many custom portraits of Ryan Gosling riding bare-chested on a tiger made of lightning her sanity could take. The point still stood, however: Gina Linetti was not a woman who could afford to turn down a bribe as large as the one Lillian was offering, and, if Lillian’s research was to be believed, nor was it in her character to do so. All Lillian was asking for in return was information, who Lena was seeing, why, when, where, et cetera. There was no conceivable way this could go wrong.

 “Do I look like the kind of woman that can be bought? Never in my life have I been offended in this way-“

“You are literally shoving banknotes into your purse as we speak.”

Gina did not even have the decency to stop frantically stuffing her knockoff handbag with money; she didn’t even bat an eyelid as she continued shout-whispering in that airy voice Lillian was already beginning to despise, “I am incorruptible! Gina Linetti can’t be bribed!”

Lillian scoffed. She’d had the assistant shadowed for days, moral fortitude clearly wasn’t one of her strong suits.

“I saw you giving away Lena Luthor’s private bathroom key to an intern because he brought you a latte from Starbucks five minutes ago”, she deadpanned.

“I know”, Gina said, in the tone of voice one would use to explain the fact that 2 plus 2 equals 4 to a very, very stupid toddler, “but I don’t see you with a venti, half-whole milk, one quarter 1%, one quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots (1 1/2 shots decaf, 2 1/2 shots regular), no foam latte, with whip, 2 packets of splenda, 1 sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup and 3 short sprinkles of cinnamon, so scram.”

Lillian blinked. Gina blinked back.

Never, ever, in her entire life had Lillian been told to scram, by a measly glorified secretary no less! She was so taken aback she couldn’t even feel any anger. She just felt like she really, really needed to sit down for a second.

Gina blinked, again. It occurred to Lillian that she hadn’t even reacted to her insult. She opened her mouth, but no sound escaped. Gina made a motion with her hands as if she were shooing away an invisible cat. No reaction from Lillian.

With a frown, Gina turned to the intern next to the water cooler, who had been staring at the exchange for a while now, open mouthed, his cup of water long overflowing.

“Hey, Lucas, how do I get her to go away?”

“Uhmmm…”

“Wow, thanks for your input, you’re useless”, Gina smiled sweetly.

“Listen, I’m just gonna call Miss Lee…”

Miss Lee.

It was the ridiculous nickname that brought Lillian back to the land of the living. Miss Lee. What kind of disastrous, catastrophic insider knowledge did this yapping plebian of a woman possess to force Lena, whom she even though she’d never be a full Luthor had tried and tried again to impart at least some Luthor instincts to tolerate her? As much as Lillian hated every second she had to spend in Gina Linetti’s presence, the information being withheld from her was too compelling.

So if anyone asked, that’s how Lillian ended up ordering a a venti, half-whole milk, one quarter 1%, one quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots (1 1/2 shots decaf, 2 1/2 shots regular), no foam latte, with whip, 2 packets of splenda, 1 sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup and 3 short sprinkles of cinnamon latte at a Starbucks on the other side of the city, since Gina apparently had an ongoing and exceedingly bloody feud with the manager of the Starbucks just across the street.

She returned, sporting a coffee stain on her pristine blouse and the look of a woman who’d just been through hell, carrying the lukewarm coffee like the Olympic torch. Gina eyed her suspiciously, while greeting the hot beverage with a smile as loving as one would normally reserve for long lost family.

And despite the circumstances, Lillian stood a little taller, because if she now finally found out what the secret behind Gina Linetti’s hiring might be, this whole humiliating ordeal had been worth it.

And, lo and behold, Gina produced from the uncharted dimension under her desk – another spare bathroom key.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lillian hissed.

“One Linetti Special for access to Lena Luthor’s private bathroom”, she shrugged, “it’s all on the Gina’s bribery exchange rate diagram. I can’t take monetary bribes anymore because it looks suspicious on my tax returns, but I still accept latte’s, Beyoncé concert tickets and novelty handbags.”

Automatically, Lillian reached out to take the key, her mind still working overtime to catch up with the madness that had been spewing out of the assistant’s mouth.

“Oh, and one more thing: Miss Lee and actually worked together to create the bribery exchange rate, and the key automatically alerts security if it’s handled by someone other than Miss Lee or me. Weeds out the creeps.”

 As Lillian was escorted out of the building, a novel thought occurred to her:

 Maybe, Gina Linetti didn’t even need to have dirt on Lena. Maybe, she was just good.

[one-night-story]

Living My Life on Red Alert (Jesse McCree)

A/N: I’m pretty positive this is my longest story to date so that’s impressive? Also literally the only reason I wrote this is because I decided to osmosisly learn everything I needed to know about the universe of Overwatch without playing the game so apologies for inaccuracies in advance. Now, on with the show!

The bell above the door rang and Hale used that as good of a sign as any to get up and get to work. She had technically opened up about half hour ago, but this didn’t stop her from going really underway. She rolled off her cot she kept in the space above the diner. After landing on the ground, she dusted herself off and cleaned herself up. She tied her hair quickly into a sloppy bun and wandered down the stairs. When she arrived in the kitchen, she poked her head out of the window and found her usual sitting in his spot at the counter and was looking down at his hand, allowing his hat to cover his face. Hale smiled to herself as she pulled out the bag of coffee beans, they both preferred.

“Mornin’,” He said as he looked up. Hale came out of the kitchen and smirked. She was fond of the guy that seemed to appear every morning. He had a cybernetic right hand and some sort of scarf around his neck? She couldn’t tell, and he had some sort of accent she had only started working through.

“Morning Stranger,” she replied. She had taken to calling him Stranger both because of an old, old western movie her dad once showed her, and because they hadn’t traded names. What could she say, they got distracted between not talking about what he did for a living, not talking about what Hale did before working at a diner, and most certainly not talking about the robot Hale had stashed in the back room. Hell, they didn’t really know each other outside of extremely frivolous things. Like she knew that he had a preference toward Reese’s Peanut Butter cups (and with this discovery they had made an agreement that he could have all of hers for the rest of her life), he had liked sweet pea flowers, and took his coffee black.  Besides, this routine had been going on for a couple of months it was far too late now. They were like, Gatsby and Nick. The nickname had stuck, and it was far too late to ask for his name. “The usual?” She asked.

“Of course,” He said with an easy smile. Hale started pouring the beans into the grinder and started grinding. Sure, she could’ve bought an automated, but there was something satisfying about grinding them herself. Hale was cranking and leaning against the wall. She took in her Stranger a bit more. He hadn’t shed his hat yet and had stopped lighting his cigar in the diner after the second week when Hale tore into him for it.

“Darlin, I think you’ve ground those poor beans enough.” He said. Hale snapped out of her stupor and looked down, partially to hide the blush that came from his affectionate name (a week seven development, both the pet names and her sudden affection for the cowboy) and partially to see the grounds, sure enough they were ground.

“Right, thanks.” She said. She turned on the coffee pot and set up the grounds. She adjusted her scrunchie out of habit as the coffee pot started to whir. She then was quick to pull out their respective mugs. She then disappeared into the back and started working on their pancakes, taking the batter she put in the fridge last night and lit the stove top up. “How many this morning Stranger?”

“Four should do,” he said. She nodded and started portioning them out. In doing so, she was focused on the batter and made them with care. Soon enough, 8 pancakes were made, and Hale put the pancakes on the plate. She grabbed a canister of maple syrup for Stranger. She set the plate down and passed him a fork. She then grabbed a stool and sat on a diagonal from him. This is how it was every morning since he had started coming in.

“Got any plans?” She asked. “Or at least, ones you can tell me about?” She added. Stranger chuckled and took his hat off as he started pouring syrup on his pancakes.

“Nah, could spend the day here.” He said. Hale chuckled and blushed but hid it by going under the counter and grabbing the powdered sugar. She dusted her stack and then placed it on the counter.

“You’d get called away and you know it.” She remarked. Stranger laughed and took a bite of pancake.

“You might be right about that darlin’.”

“'Course I am,” Hale said through the last bit of pancake in her mouth, “happens every time you say you’re gonna spend all day here. Maybe you should just stop saying it, so the universe doesn’t know.”

“Might have to do that, tomorrow.”

“Well see, now you can’t the universe knows.” Another laugh and Hale couldn’t help but smirk in triumph. They ate their pancakes and sipped on coffee when the machine finally stopped whirring.

“Remind me one of these days to buy you a new coffee pot, that thing looks like it’s older than both of us.” Stranger remarked as Hale poured his coffee.

“If it’s broke, don’t fix it.”

“Darlin’ I’m pretty positive it’s passed the broken point.”

“Leave my coffee pot alone, it has feelings and it will break when it’s least convenient now because you’ve insulted it.”

“I’m sorry,” Stranger said with a joking tone and a sly smirk. Hale rolled her eyes as she poured her coffee and then drowned it in flavored creamer, she had for just herself. Hey, just because she worked at an old-fashioned diner, didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge in the finer things in life. Like flavored coffee creamer. Besides, Death Wish needed it. Once they had finished their breakfasts, Hale was quick to clear the dishes, keeping the mugs, and then came back to her seat.

“Your coffee’s improved since I started coming here, what changed?” He asked. Hale flushed unexpectedly, how to tell him that she had started serving him coffee from her stash at around week 3?

“That’s because you’re drinking my preferred bean. Not the diner’s.” She settled on.

“You’re kiddin’,” he said with a look that Hale couldn’t pin, admiration? No that wasn’t it, had to be something else.

“I’m not,” she said with a nervous chuckle. She pulled the bag that she hid in the kitchen out via leaning in the window and showed it to him. “Death Wish was for a period of time the strongest coffee. I still like it; doesn’t have the aftertaste I find a lot of coffees do.” Hale passed the bag to him and she watched as he read it over.

“I’m touched darlin’, though now I feel like I should be payin’ double.” He said.

“Don’t worry about it, keeping me company first thing in the morning is enough payment,” Hale said as she took the bag back from him, ignoring the cold from his cybernetic arm, and she stashed it back. As she straightened back up and retook her seat, she noticed he was looking at her different.

“What?” She asked with a light, slightly self-conscious chuckle as she started adjusting her bun.

“Nothin’, just… what do you want to do?” He asked. Three warning bells went off in her head. But because she had an undeniable urge (read: human biology reminding her she was a warm-blooded female) to ignore all of them.

“Wanted to do a lot, settled on stability over glory. Like that old movie speech, “I could’ve been a contender,”” she said finishing it with her worst Marlon Brando impression. Stranger chuckled.

“And ya didn’t because?” He asked. Hale shrugged and rolled her ring on her pinky finger.

“Life came up, robots happened.” She said. At the mention of robots, there was beeping from Strangers side of the counter. Hale laughed. “What did I say,” Stranger laughed and rolled his eyes as he looked to see what beeped.

“Duty calls, lovely as always darlin’,” he said.

“Thanks, I’ll be here so long as patronage is continued.” She replied. He put his hat back on and stood up.

“See ya around,”

“Adios Stranger,” and with that she watched as he walked out the door and away. Hale was quick to clean up their coffee mugs and keep herself busy, seeing as no one was likely to come in any time soon.

That was until the power went out.

Hale immediately went into survival mode. She grabbed her bracelet attachments and scrambled to put them on as she dove into a broom closet. She shut the door and was greeted with a large blue robot. She smiled and then realized what she was dealing with.

“RIOT, Grace Kelly,” she whispered. The robot whirred to life. “Covert mode!” she then quickly hissed. The robot then showed a screen on its stomach with its response

“HELLO MISS EMILIA HALE, HOW MAY I ASSIST YOU?”

“Program new command voice, Stranger.” She whispered.

“READY TO RECEIVE.” She pulled out her phone and played a small recording she had taken during week eight when she was certain that this friendship was a friendship.

“What do you mean you’ve never had proper Tex-Mex.” the recording said. RIOT was silent for a minute

“STRANGER, PROGRAMED.”

“Change code word, new code: James Dean.” She said.

“NEW CODE, PROGRAMED.” The door on the outside opened and she heard the clicking of blasters.

“Shut down.” She hissed. RIOT did as he was told and shut down. Hale then slipped out of the closet and tapped her bracelets together. The electric charge hovered around the bands and up the chain to her middle finger. She fished out a frying pan without making noise.

“Boss!” She’s in here!” Dammit! They had night vision.

“Time to light to this party up!” She yelled. She swung her frying pan and landed a hit, she then punched him and lit him up light a Christmas tree with electric power. That lit the kitchen enough that she could see that there were three more men in the main part of the diner. She jacked the gas up on the stove top and poured oil on it. She then quickly grabbed the lighter that muscle memory told her was next to the stove and lit the stove top. Now there was light. She ran for the main operatives in the diner space. She jumped over the counter and landed on one of them. She dove for the second, punching him with the other charge she had stored. That was two down, dammit where did the third one go.

“Not so fast,” A mechanical deep voice growled out as he grabbed her middle.

“Let go of me! You mother fucker let go of me!” She squirmed and kicked and didn’t make holding her easy. She just needed to stay alive long enough to get the secondary charge going.

“Boss!”

“Let’s go!”

“There’s something you should see!”

“We’ve got the girl let’s go!”

“Alright,” the hench said.

“Let go of me!” Hale screamed again.

“Not gonna happen,” the man holding her said. Hale could feel something strange happening and she thought of the one protocol that didn’t require rebooting.

“RIOT! PROTOCOL ONE!” She yelled one more time before she went dark.

*~*

When she came to, she was in a cage that reminded her of yet another old movie. Though this time the bars weren’t conveniently spaced to be able to show the eyes. She paced around in it like an animal. They had left her bracelets on, dumb of them good for her, and there was a camera at the far end of the room.

“CCTV or live broadcast?” She muttered.

“Aren’t you clever one, Emilia Grace Hale.” The mechanical voice said. Hale whipped around trying to find the speaker.

“Are you gonna stop being a coward and tell me why I’m in a cage, or are you just gonna sit in your control room?” She growled. She didn’t like being caged, and she liked people other than family using her full name even less.

“It won’t matter. You’ll be dead.”

“Wanna bet?” She asked.

“Look into the camera.” He said. At this, Hale held up six fingers and tapped her thighs

“Tell your buddies hi.”

“Hey Stranger,” she said with the same ease she told him every morning. “The word’s James Dean. You’ll figure it out.” She said. She nudged the bar and got jolted with more electricity than she was expecting and went down

*~*

“Miss, I hardly think that this is a good position to be in.” Were the first words she heard when she came to. She lit up with a grin and struggled to her feet.

“RIOT! He found you, thank fuck.” She said. RIOT nodded.

“Stranger? Yes, he did.”

“Debrief me when I’m out, I’m assuming you didn’t come alone.” She said. RIOT shot a hole in the cage that Hale quickly crawled out of.

“I am not alone, I am with a collection of former “Overwatch” agents.” RIOT stated. Hale furrowed her brow. Stranger was Overwatch? That was an unexpected development.

“The badies?”

“Too many to calculate. You will have to settle on just escaping.”

“I can work with that, got my gear?” She asked. RIOT opened a compartment in his stomach that revealed a navy-blue coat with gold and black details, a shoulder strap with her blaster, her waist belt with here electroshock orbs, and a comms unit direct to RIOT. She slid everything on and squared shoulders.

“RIOT,”

“Centaur mode, activated.” RIOT stated as he morphed to being quadrupedal. Hale was quick to jump on and they rode up the stairs and into the main battle fray. Hale was quick to unholster her blaster and start shooting. Stranger looked up and saw RIOT and then Hale on his back with a blaster he didn’t even know she had. Granted, he didn’t even know she had a robot until about an hour ago.

“RIOT,”

“Hoverboard activated.” RIOT shifted again and was firmly attached to Hale’s feet. With the aid of the comms unit, the duo synched and dove into the main battle. She shot her way through, finding herself next to her cowboy regular who was shooting with the same amount of ease as she was, if not more.

“Need a lift Stranger?” She asked.

“You don’t look like hell darlin’,”

“Feared I would?” She said with a smirk. Battle situations tended to make her more confident than she really had right to be. Stranger chuckled. “Get on, she said offering her hand. He accepted it and got on. She pulled RIOT up and they went shooting up. They were both shooting and came to a window.

“I’ve got it!” Hale exclaimed. She grabbed an electroshock orb off her belt and set it to ‘glass break’ and chucked it at the window. The window promptly shattered, and the duo and RIOT were through.

“Where’s the rendezvous?” She asked.

“The truck!” Hale dove for the truck and landed.

“RIOT!” Mid-drop, RIOT changed back to centaur form and ran for the bus. RIOT bucked and threw the both of them into the truck. RIOT changed from again and joined them in the truck.  He became a little orb and rolled over to Hale. “Deactivate.” she said. With a happy whirr, RIOT complied. Hale looked across at the man she typically didn’t see outside of the diner.

“You can just, drop me back at the diner. If it’s not burned down.” She said, nearly forgetting about the fire she lit before she got nabbed

“Nice little robot you’ve got there,” He said with a chuckle.

“Thanks, RIOT’s been in my family for years.” She said. The duo fell into silence until they pulled up to the diner. Where it was surprisingly not burned down. “Good job RIOT,” she muttered to the orb. It had followed Protocol One: Damage Control. She tapped RIOT once he rolled out of the truck and watched him shift to a GNK droid, though much larger than one would be traditionally. Hale jumped off the truck and watched as he jumped off as well.

“Guess this is goodbye,” He said with an uneasy look in his eye.

“What are you talking about, the diner’s still here.” She said.

“You don’t get it,”

“Get what?”

“I’m the reason Reaper came after ya, I’m… darlin’ I’m not letting that happen to ya again.” He said. Hale laughed and for once in their several month-long friendship, initiated contact (He usually had to do it, and it didn’t start until at least week six). She held his face and brought it to look down at him.

“I have a robot. And blasters. And a past I don’t talk about. Don’t take this burden all on you. I’m sure he dug up something on me while I was out and found out who I was.” She said. She gave him a soft smile. “Besides, I can’t have you disappearing without me knowing your name Stranger, I might have to get it out of RIOT.” She added. He chuckled and kissed her forehead, which proceeded to light her up like a Christmas tree. It was tender and he was so much warmer than she expected.

“McCree. Jesse McCree.” He said. Another soft smile from Hale as she rolled it around in her head.

“Jesse McCree,” she let it roll off her tongue, “suits you Stranger.” He chuckled at her still calling him Stranger.

“RIOT managed to not let your name slip.” Good robot she thought to herself.

“Emilia Hale. Call me Hale. Or Milia if you must.” She responded. Hale watched as McCree’s face seemed to express the same process of rolling the name around in his mind.

“Emilia Hale, I like it.” He said. The duo stood there in an embrace they hadn’t expected. Hale was still holding onto McCree’s face, lightly letting her fingers play with the short hairs, and McCree had looped his arms around her waist, his cybernetic arm resting against her back. There was something about a traumatic experience that led to the release of weeks of pent up emotions that had been festering since week seven for Hale and even earlier for McCree. Hale, in a stunning turn of events, kissed him first. Lightly, as a parting gift, a way of saying goodbye. But McCree quickly recaptured her lips. Passionate, like he was quickly taking back what he had said about saying goodbye. When oxygen became necessary, he looked down at her.

“It won’t be easy.”

“The best things in life never are. Besides, I can get used to living my life on “red alert.” Might fulfil that “could’ve been a contender” thing.” Hale said. McCree chuckled and pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. Hale wiggled her head to look up at him. “I’m keeping the diner though.”

“RIOT will have to stay out of storage.” McCree said.

“Done, now just kiss me Stranger.” She said with a smirk.

And he did.