#normally its like pulling teeth getting them off their phones and engaging with each other (i dont mean this in a boomer way-

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Warnings: dramatics, gaslighting, pining pining pining, drinking, attempted drugging, blacking out, vomiting, Nile and Hitch hook up, did I mention pining, one Greek word (thank you again, @cynnyc .)

It’s nearly ten PM as you climb the steps to the PKA house. The brisk October air makes you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and move toward the door faster. You probably should’ve texted your target first, checked to see if he’s even here, but you’re not about to stand outside and wait for a reply, not when you can just knock and ask a living soul.

 It’s Reiner who answers, looking extremely tired with dark circles under his eyes. You idly wonder if he and the other new kids are being kept awake as another stupid fucking hazing ritual, but you don’t really have the time for small talk. 

 “Erwin here?”

 The blond nods and steps out of the way. “His room. Might already be asleep.”

 Shrugging, you walk inside, mumbling, “Just gonna have to wake his ass up then.”

 Which you do, climbing up to the third story after Reiner tells you which room he’s in now. You knock on the door a couple times and almost feel bad when Erwin answers, clearly rumpled in pajama pants and bedhead. 

 He squints at you, and you snort. “Sleep before ten? You some kinda nerd or somethin’?”

 “What do you want?” He gruffs, voice a little scratchy. 

 You can see part of the room behind him, looks pretty similar to the one from last year. That had been the only time you’d really gotten a close look into his space, and it had not ended well. You hope this time will be different. 

 “I needed to talk to you about something.”

 Erwin scrubs a hand down his face then rests his head against his doorframe. “I’ll take a wild guess and say this is about Mike.”

 You push your lips out in a pout and respond, “Maybe.”

 He lets you into his room, catches you off guard when he asks, “Door open or closed?” 

 “Depends. You gonna come onto me again?”

 He chuckles and shakes his head. “I learned my lesson last time.”

 “You can shut it then.”

 Taking up the chair at his desk, you watch as Erwin just crawls back under his covers and fixes cerulean eyes on you. 

 “Why haven’t you been talking to him?”

 Something in your stomach flips, eyes growing as you splutter, “I haven’t been talking to him? He hasn’t been talking to me!” 

 Erwin frowns. “What? He’s been bitching to me incessantly.”

 “And, I’ve been bitching to Hitch incessantly.”

 Groaning into his pillow, Erwin holds out his hand, and you hear a muffled command, “Give me your phone.”

 You do without hesitation, rattle off the passcode then sit and wait as Erwin scrolls through what you assume to be your settings or contacts. The thought that you should be a little scared crosses your mind—you do have some compromising photos in an unlocked folder—but judging by Erwin’s current mood, he doesn’t seem interested in anything except sleeping. 

 “That motherfucker,” he grunts.

 “What?”

 “You blocked his number.”

 “What?” This time is much louder and panicked. “No, I didn’t! I swear I didn’t.”

 He tosses you the device back and gestures in a ‘see for yourself’ manner. “Someone did.”

 Your blood begins to boil as you stare down at your short list of blocked contacts, Mike’s name right on top.

 “Are you fucking kidding me?” You quickly tap to remedy the problem, hands beginning to shake. “I don’t even know how—”

 “My money’s on the shitty boyfriend,” Erwin mumbles.

 You want to text Mike, but you have no idea what to say. Sorry we haven’t talked in over a month. Zeke figured out my phone password and blocked your number haha. You doubt that would fly.

 If you had just come to Erwin sooner, most of this could have been avoided. You don’t know if you’re more upset at Zeke or at yourself.

 Zeke. Definitely Zeke. That is some wildly possessive behavior. That’s isolation. The idea makes you nauseous. This is just another instance of him showing what you believe to be his true self. Between all the fighting and grudges, you’re at your wit’s end. Just the other day, the two of you had gotten into yet another argument when you happened to get a glance at the Tinder icon in his app list. 

 “Why do you still have that?” You’d asked with a frown. You really hadn’t planned on it turning into an ordeal. 

 “Have what?”

 “Tinder.”

 “What are you talking about?”

 Then, right in front of your eyes, he had deleted the app. You saw it, but that didn’t stop Zeke from looking at you with a straight face and telling you, “I think you’re just confused, babe.”

 That’s when it turned into an ordeal. That’s when you got defensive and incredulous. That’s when he just kept telling you that you were wrong, that you were just seeing things, and after a good thirty minutes once you were nice and high strung, he actually had you halfway convinced. 

 Because he always sounds so sure of himself, always makes it so that his word is law. You had doubted yourself—you’re still doubting yourself. 

 “Jesus, I can’t believe this,” you breathe, leaning back in the rolling chair and staring up at the ceiling. You can believe it, actually, you just hadn’t expected him to sink that low. “What do I even say to Mike?”

 Erwin finally pushes himself into a sitting position and stretches. Seems like he’s just resigning himself to being awake. “Whatever it is, you should probably talk it out in person.”

 “Probably.”

 “Might be a little difficult now, though.”

 Heaving a sigh, you mutter, “Yeah, I assume he's pretty pissed at me.”

 Erwin hums, but his voice comes out a little unsure when he says, “Well, that, but also…”

 You're suddenly sitting straight up. “Also what?”

 Making a face, the man across from you enlightens you to the fact that, “Mike is kind of seeing someone. I think.”

 You blink at him, trying to process what he’s telling you. Mike is… With someone? You feel sick.

 But, you shouldn’t because he’s allowed to branch out. You surely did, and you hurt him in the process. 

 “It, uh… It gets worse.”

 Swallowing, you try to hide the lump in your throat when you rasp, “How?”

 Don’t cry. Do not cry. You have no right to cry. 

 “I’m about ninety-nine percent positive it’s Zeke’s ex.”

 Every muscle in your face suddenly relaxes, but it isn’t in a good way. Instead of frowning, your brow softens into its normal position. You release the tension in your jaw, the teeth that were just clenched falling away from each other as your lips part. Erwin moves in and out of focus as your gaze becomes blurry, hot tears gathering at your waterline, and now you don’t even try to stop them from falling. 

 Fucking Rhi. She had been nothing more than an annoyance before, a peppy little annoyance trying to grab your boyfriend’s attention. But, now… Now, you’re ready to fight. Parking lot brawl, throwing fists and pulling hair, and screeching—you want to destroy her. 

 “Oh.” You sniffle then wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “That’s good. I mean—” a quiet cough, “—that’s good for him. I’m glad.”

 Erwin snorts. “No, you’re not,” his volume rises a bit. “So, don’t pretend like you are. God, why are you guys so bad at this?”

 You let out a humorless laugh and shrug. “‘Cause I have shitty timing, I guess.” You bite your lip and look back to the ceiling, trying not to weep too openly, but your lungs are burning, preventing you from breathing, and your heart is bruising your ribcage, and you think your bones just might shatter inside of your chest. 

 There’s a rustling on the bed, and when you look back at Erwin, you find him laying down again but holding the blankets up in front of him. 

 “Come on.”

 “W-what? Erwin, that is literally the last thing we—”

 “I’m not trying to fuck,” he says, eyes heavy as he stares at you. “You need to relax, and I need to sleep, so just come on."

 You consider for a while, looking from Erwin to the mattress. You’re really not that close, would barely even call him your friend, but you did come to him tonight. You had chosen to confide in him. He makes some pretty questionable decisions sometimes, but you still believe that ultimately he’s a good person. 

 “Fine, but put a shirt on.”

 “Then, grab one. Second drawer. Make sure it’s soft.”

 You roll your eyes but do as you're told, running your hands over a few t-shirts until you find one that he should be pleased enough with. He tugs it on then collapses back on the bed, and you kick your shoes off then slip out of your jacket and under the covers.

 You’re facing him, trying to keep a few inches between yourself and his chest, but as you think about the position you’re in—why you’re in it, the tears start flowing freely again, and you’re holding back little whimpers, shoulders shaking at the effort. Erwin breathes in deeply then uses the arm he isn’t laying on to pull you to him, shushing you as he rubs the space between your shoulder blades with a warm hand. 

 “We’ll get it sorted out,” he promises, voice quiet as he starts to doze. 

 It’s not how you expected to end the night, but you suppose there are worse ways.

*

 Mike learns a lot of information in a very short amount of time. Nile meets him outside of the fitness center to give him the scoop, trying to look casual as he walks, but Mike can tell he's nervous. 

 He starts by asking if Mike has talked to you at all recently, and no, he has not. So, Nile tells him that you broke things off with Zeke and apparently it got messy. 

 "Something about him being a manipulative bastard," Nile waves a hand. 

 "Doesn’t surprise me. Took her long enough."

 You've been hanging around the Pike house again, sometimes by yourself and sometimes with Hitch—"Who's really fucking cute, by the way." Obviously Nile and Marie are in the 'off' portion of their relationship cycle. "And, you would know all this if you would just start coming around again. It's stupid to pay dues and not actually engage with the frat, dude."

 "I've just been busy with school," Mike tells him. It's only a half lie. His senior courses are kind of kicking his ass, but he's also been busying himself with Rhi who is… tolerable. 

 "Whatever. Halloween party is in, like, a week. If you don't show up, I'm gonna be real pissed."

 "I'll be there, Nile."

 "Okay, then lemme prepare you for one more thing."

 Mike stops walking and looks at the smaller man who inhales deeply then blows air out through his teeth. 

 "So, uh, she's hanging around again, right? And, you're not there, so it seems like she's sort of, uh, latched onto…" He makes a face, and Mike leans back. 

 "Don't fucking tell me."

 Nile cringes. "Yeah. I don't think they're fucking or anything. I haven't heard them in his room like I used to hear the two of you."

 "She goes into his room?" Mike has to flex his hand by his side, but the brick wall of the library they've stopped in front of is looking mighty nice. Break a few bones, bleed a little, it'll feel good. 

 "Yeah, but, like, they're nowhere near as close as you and her."

 "How close we used to be. It's been so fucking long since we've even talked, dude. And, any time I try to catch her on campus, the dickbag is with her—"

 "Well, at least you don't have to worry about that anymore."

 "Yeah, now I just have to worry about her fucking my best friend. Fuck, she just—" Mike growls in his throat, contemplates turning to go back to the gym because he needs to get this energy out somehow. "She drives me fucking crazy."

 "Yeah, I know, man. I just didn't want you to be surprised at the party when you see 'em all buddy-buddy."

 "I'm gonna punch him," Mike states. "Just lay him out in front of everyone."

 "Please don't," Nile sounds genuinely worried. "Maybe use the party as a way to, I don't know, talk to your girl? Like an adult?" 

 "Obviously not my girl, and I've been screwing around with Rhi anyway. Maybe it's just time we went our separate ways or whatever." 

 It physically hurts to even suggest, but he's trying to put on a brave face for his friend—act annoyed rather than fucking crushed, but god, he is aching. His stomach has opened up into nothing, his chest feels void of everything that was once inside, and he knows he's being dramatic, but fuck fuck fuck, first Zeke and now Erwin? What is it that Mike doesn't have? What can't he provide you with that they can? Just tell him, and he'll fucking fix it. 

 "Yeah, I think we both know that's not gonna happen. Plus, you do realize Rhi is probably just using you to make Zeke jealous."

 "I'm not fucking stupid, Nile, of course I know that." But, Mike is really tired of his love life revolving around that asshole, like he has to wait for Zeke to call all the shots. "I'm using her as much as she's using me, so—"

 "As a distraction?" 

 Mike lets his head loll to the side, peering down at Nile from the corner of his eyes. "What do you think?" 

 The other man gives him a light punch to the shoulder and once again suggests, "Talk things out. Just pull her aside at the party." 

 It's easier said than done. When Halloween rolls around, it's a little insane. It's too big and too loud with a flashing strobe that hurts Mike’s eyes. There are all sorts of costumes, making it hard to recognize anyone. The jungle juice is a mystery, one Mike doesn't plan on touching but that many people will. He has a feeling that more than a few party-goers are gonna end up sick, probably passing out in various locations of the house. 

 Mike has opted for an easy costume, the tacky tourist complete with his pink Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat, sunglasses, and a fanny pack. It's so awful, it actually made him laugh, but Rhi, clad in a spandex tiger suit, is not nearly as amused. She probably wanted him to go the sexy cop route or something equally as cringey, but Mike just doesn't have it in him tonight. 

 Nile is a shirtless cowboy, Hitch is a Catholic schoolgirl, Gelgar is Freddy Krueger with a pompadour, Reiner is a werewolf, the list goes on and on. Sexy, bloody nurses, superheroes, Harry Potter, and so on. 

 When his eyes land on you for the first time that night, Mike comes close to drooling his drink. Lola Bunny in her skimpy basketball uniform and a rabbit ear headband. Your face is painted, and you're carrying around one of those foam balls kids use to dunk into Fisher Price hoops, and he has no doubt the prop will be lost by the end of the party. 

 Mike thinks back to Spring Break, to you wincing at his movie choice then trying to sleep through it. You had woken up to him flipping through the photo album, then chose to finally open up to him. 

 So, why this costume? Why "torture" yourself like this? 

 And, speaking of torture, you're sticking to Erwin just like Nile said you would. The blond is in a tailored suit, his face painted like a skull. It's both classy and creepy, and Mike hates him for it. In fact, it calls for another drink. 

 Rhi finds him in the kitchen after making her rounds, taking up her former place on Mike's arm as he uses the counter to pop the lid off a fresh bottle. They watch the game of beer pong playing out in front of them, but Rhi doesn't seem content to just sit. 

 She has to stand on her tip-toes and shout into his ear, "Wanna walk around some?" 

 No. He really doesn't, but he can placate her, especially if it means getting laid later tonight. 

 They trek back to the main room, observing the debauchery taking place. People are grinding and stripping to Monster Mash. Several couples are spread out in the chairs or up against the wall getting pretty close to full on exhibitionism. 

 They stop to talk to "Officer" Marie for a while then move on to Nile and Hitch to whom Rhi spills everything she just heard from the busty redhead. They joke with Gelgar and his catch of the day, some of the pledges—Jean, Reiner, and Eren—who are just trying to survive, and then at last… you and Erwin. 

 Mike sees the way your chest rises with a deep breath, how your fingers tighten around the little basketball. Your eyes flit from Rhi to Mike, flashing when Rhi greets you. 

 Oh, you don't like her. 

 "Love the costume," she tells you. "Who are you supposed to be again?" 

 Mike chokes on his drink, and you suck your teeth before replying, "Lola Bunny. The Loony Toon."

 "Oh, is that, like, Bugs Bunny's girlfriend?"

 "Kind of?" You try. 

 Rhi looks to Erwin who visibly cringes when she asks, "Why aren't you dressed as Bugs then?" 

 Mike wants to turn around, to put as much distance between all of you as possible. 

 Erwin clears his throat. "Because that would be a couple's costume, and we're not…"

 Mike knows his expression is skeptical, cold even, and when he settles it on you, you give him a little shake of your head that he doesn't really believe. 

 "Oh, alright," Rhi concedes only to chime, "'Cause I heard—"

 "Wrong," Erwin cuts her off. "You heard wrong, Rhi." A hard, blue stare lands on Mike, unforgiving when he tells him, "I think it's time you two talked."

 "I don't think that's really—"

 "Oh, fuck," your swear gets everyone's attention, and Mike takes in the shock written all over your face then follows your line of sight to the entry way where Zeke god damn Jaeger is making his way through the crowd. 

 "What the hell is he doing here?" Erwin spits. 

 "You and Nile decided this should be an open party, dumbass," Mike reminds him with a roll of his eyes. 

 "Oh, so we're name-calling now? Jesus Mike, grow up. You're just assuming shit!" As he rants, Erwin takes hold of one of your arms and pulls you behind him, snatching the furry headband from you so the ears don't stick out. 

 For a split second, Mike thinks he's trying to protect you from him, but then he nods to bring Mike's attention to the approaching figure behind him, and Mike understands. 

 He turns his body to face Zeke who's walking over, fragmented by the strobe, his icy eyes piercing straight through his glasses. Mike, despite his anger toward you, feels the primal urge to protect you. 

 "The fuck do you want, Jaeger?" 

 "Woah, calm down, bud. Just looking for a brat—about yea high, spreads her legs for any athlete she comes in contact with. You guys seen her?" 

 Mike steps toward him, but he's stopped by a hand that fists in the back of his shirt. 

 "Ah, there she is," Zeke smirks, and Mike looks over his shoulder to see you now in front of Erwin with your fingers clutching the pink material across his back. 

 "He's not worth it, Mike."

 Mike thinks he is, though. He feels like he keeps getting whiplash, going back and forth between who he wants to hit at any given moment because it seems to change by the second.

 He's just been so incredibly frustrated for the past few months. Lacrosse doesn't help, and  the gym doesn't help, and fucking Rhi doesn't help. Mike has just been stewing, letting everything fester during the radio silence between the two of you. He's mad at so many people including himself, and all he wants to do is shove his way out of this stupid fucking party and take off his stupid fucking fanny pack and be alone in his apartment under his dumb fairy lights. 

 He shrugs out of your grip, figures the best thing he can do right now is get away from all of you. Zeke stumbles when Mike shoulders into him forcefully. He's not even a little surprised when Rhi doesn't follow him, choosing to vie for Zeke's attention instead. 

 It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Mike gets another drink in him. 

 He tries not to watch the way the heated conversation turns out, the way you bow up to Zeke and Erwin has to once again put himself in between you and the other blond. He tries not to smile at the fire in your eyes, that blaze he's seen so many times (usually when you're annoyed at him), and yes, there's that pain again, barely overshadowing Mike's anger. 

 You yell something at Zeke. He yells back. Erwin feels the need to add his own opinion, but the music is too loud for Mike to be able to make any of it out. Whatever is shouted makes Zeke huff and walk away. Rhi prances after him, and Mike resigns himself to the fact that he probably will not be fucking her after this shit show. He could always find someone else, but that takes effort (not much, but still), and then they usually get clingy afterward, and he just can't be bothered with all that right now. Mike can't be bothered with anything right now. 

 So he drinks. 

 He keeps an eye on Zeke who doesn't actually leave the party, and he drinks. He stares at you from across the room, bunny ears back in place, and he drinks. Somewhere between Boom and Beer Pong, he loses the fanny pack, looks down at some point and finds that it's just no longer there. All he had in there was a lighter and a couple condoms, so he isn't too broken up about it, but he does wonder—

 Mike isn't sure what makes him look over at the counter where all the different drinks are set out, but he does, and it's just in time to see Eren hunching over the bowl of jungle juice like some shady motherfucker, and when Mike makes his way over, world spinning just a little bit, he sees the younger Jaeger brother emptying a little plastic bag of green pills into the punch. 

 "What the fu—" Mike has him by the collar before he can even finish his own question, tosses the kid away from the counter so that he actually falls to the floor. It causes a few people to hop out of the way, their drinks sloshing and spilling on the tile. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

 Eren looks up at Mike with wide, panicked eyes, like he's scared and waiting for someone to save him. 

 "I—I don't know what you think you saw, man—"

 "I know exactly what I saw, you little creep!" 

 Everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of them as more people trickle in. 

 "What even was that? You trying to roofie the whole fucking party or something?" 

 "No!" 

 "Just one person, then? That one special girl," Mike hisses.

 He walks back to the counter and grabs the large bowl of juice, carrying it over to Eren who's still on the ground. The kid covers his face just in time for Mike to empty the contents over his head, drenching him so that red drips from his hair and trickles down his arms. 

 "Drink up, bitch," Mike snarls before throwing the bowl so that it bounces off Eren's head. 

 Naturally, a bigger crowd has gathered, and Nile shoves his way through, shouting over the music, "What is happening?" 

 Mike leans over to yell in his ear, "Saw him pouring pills into the punch."

 "Are you serious?" 

 Mike nods but steps away when Eren pushes himself off the wet floor and nearly throws himself at Nile. 

 "I didn't do it! I don't know what the fuck he's talking about!" 

 Nile arm-bars Mike when he tries to move toward the little twerp, lips pulling back from his teeth because it has been a shitty night. A shitty week. Shitty month. And, now his fury has shifted yet again. 

 "Did anyone else see it, Mike?" Nile asks. 

 "Probably not since everyone is fucked up—"

 "Including you."

 Mike looks over at his friend in genuine surprise because it's starting to sound like Nile doesn't believe him. 

 "Why the fuck would I lie about something like this?" 

 "Maybe because he's Zeke's brother," Nile suggests. 

 Mike is heated. He can feel the blood underneath his skin cooking his god damn insides, frying his brain so that all he can think about is throwing a punch or two (or twenty). 

 Jaw sliding, Mike shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath to steady himself, to stop his hands from shaking as he tries to figure out when his friends started looking at him as some unhinged freak. 

 "What are you doing—the fu—dude, stop!"

 Opening his eyes again, Mike sees that Gelgar has inserted himself into the situation and has Eren pinned against the counter as he shoves his hands in every one of his pockets. He's growling something at the younger man, keeps shoving his face down against the linoleum any time Eren squirms, and after about a minute of people watching and gasping and making crude remarks about the position the two are in, Gelgar straightens up with a plastic bag identical to the one Mike saw Eren emptying into the jungle juice. 

 "It's just Adderall, I swear!"

 Gelgar scoffs. "This is definitely not Adderall. Believe me, I'd know." He tosses the pills to Nile who takes a long look at them before glaring at Eren. 

 "Get the fuck out before I call the cops."

 He should call them anyway, Mike thinks, but he understands Nile's hesitance. There's a lot going on at the party—underage drinking, party drugs in various rooms, etc. Eren wouldn't be the only one taken into custody if the police showed up. 

 Another voice rings out, asking the same question everyone else has, "What the hell is going on?" and Mike comes close to hurling the closest bottle at Zeke as he makes his way to his brother. "Why are you…" He gestures nebulously as his eyebrows pull together. Rhi is close behind him, and further still, you and Erwin are peeking into the kitchen. 

 "They think I drugged the jungle juice!" Eren looks at Zeke with puppy eyes that probably worked when he was a kid, might still work judging by the way the blond whirls around to face Mike and Nile. 

 "Have any proof, or are you just trying to—"

 "Pipe down, Jaeger," Nile cuts him off, holding up the bag and explaining, "Mike saw him dropping these in the punch."

 Zeke is silent for a few solid seconds before rounding on his brother again and grabbing him by the shirt right where Mike had previously held him, and everyone watches in rapt attention as he steers Eren through the crowd, shouting at him the entire time. 

 Having both of them leave is a relief, but Mike is a little disappointed that he didn't get to fight either of them. It would have been nice to feel a nose break under his fist, but he supposed it's better this way. 

 "Hey, thanks for catching that, dude," Nile says, slapping Mike's back. 

 It doesn't make him feel good. If anything, it pisses him off. Mike would understand if his friend had been skeptical of one of the pledges or second years making the accusation he had, but Nile is one of his best friends. They were inducted at the same time, were hazed side by side. Mike never would have thought Nile had such a low opinion of him, that he’d believe Mike’s little broken heart would cloud his judgement to the point of slandering someone without cause. 

 "Whatever," he shrugs before grabbing another drink. 

 He should just go back home. He isn't having a good time. He's angry at just about everyone he looks at. When Rhi decides he's worth her time again, Mike actually tells her to fuck off. He's lost the accessories to his costume, and he's about to lose his mind. 

 It's getting late. Mike isn't sure how late because as the night progresses, he gets steadily inebriated. He tries to avoid anyone and everyone in his fraternity, hanging out with people he knows from lacrosse or his classes instead. They play a few drinking games, take body shots off some sorority girls (or maybe it's the same one, he can't tell anymore). The music becomes bearable, and the strobe light stops hurting his head, and eventually, Mike just… forgets. 

 He forgets about Nile's lack of faith. He forgets about the fuckhead Jaeger brothers. He forgets about you and Erwin walking around and laughing together oh, ha ha we're so close now. He is finally spared from all of his negative thoughts. 

 Mostly because somewhere between shot number seven and beer number who knows what, Mike pukes into a plant (maybe?) and blacks out.

 *

 "God dammit. Erwin," you tug on his jacket sleeve and point to the corner that is home to a fake ficus that Mike is currently throwing up in. 

 Erwin groans, "Oh, Jesus Christ," and starts making his way over with you hot on his heels. 

 A few people are making faces as they glance at Mike, moving away as he coughs, straightens, then bends over again. 

 "Mike, come on, buddy," Erwin pats his back, waiting for Mike to pause in his retching so that he can duck under his arm and support him. "Gotta get you to a bathroom."

 "No bath," Mike snorts. "No green there, no…"

 You take a place on his other side, not that you can help much in getting him down the hall and in one of the downstairs restrooms, but you at least support his other arm and steer him in the right direction. 

 "Why is he talking about green?" Erwin grumbles as you both lower Mike to the tiled floor in front of the toilet where he promptly pukes again. 

 "The leaves maybe? I don't know, dude. Just…" You cringe as you notice the way Mike's shaggy hair hangs down into the toilet bowl, subject to all kinds of splash back. "Do you have a hair tie on you?" 

 "Literally why in the fuck would I have a hair tie on me?" Erwin asks incredulously, and you laugh because a couple weeks ago, he never would have used that word in this context since it's wrong, but the more you spend time with him, the more he picks up on your vernacular, and that really doesn't matter right now because—

 "Water," Mike croaks, voice echoing off the ceramic. 

 "I don't think you'll be able to drink any right this second, man," Erwin tells him, squatting beside him. 

 Mike shakes his head. "Wanna feel—feel water. Cold."

 "He sounds like a fucking caveman," you snicker. 

 You're really just trying to stay calm, masking the sick feeling in your stomach with amusement, but you've been watching Mike all night as he downed beer after beer, mixing various liquors as he took shots and licked salt off some chick's stomach. You figured he would get sick, but there wasn't really much you could do about it. He had made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in speaking to you. Still, you had purposely remained mostly sober just in case something like this happened (also because you make bad decisions when you get fucked up at frat parties).

 "Yeah, he definitely won't remember any of this."

 "Waterrr," Mike tries again, and you look at the way his arm is dangling over the side of the tub, the faucet on the opposite side, and glance at Erwin at a loss. 

 He shrugs, eyes darting around until he sees the plastic cup upside down on the shower rack. He grabs it, turns the water on and fills the cup, then dumps it over Mike's hand. 

 Mike groans, slowly wriggles his fingers under the stream, and drawls, "Thaaaank."

 You shake your head and motion for the cup, talk loud enough to be heard over the faucet, "I can handle this. You go back outside."

 "What? No."

 "There's no reason both of us have to be in here. He's just gonna puke his guts out for a few hours and then pass out." 

 Erwin doesn't seem sold on the idea. 

 "Come on. You've gotta go back. You're vice president or whatever."

 "So?" 

 "Erwin."

 He stares at you for a while then deflates. "Fine. Do you have your phone on you?" 

 "Always." You gesture to the elastic waistband of your shorts, phone pressed to your hip as it hangs on the inside of the material.

 "Text me if you need help, alright?" 

 "You got it, boss."

 He leaves just in time for Mike to violently retch into the toilet, one hand clutching the bowl as his spine curves. You fill the cup back up, pour it over his hand once again, and repeat the action over… and over… and over.

 His face and hair are gonna be a mess, probably his shirt too which is actually a blessing because you'll finally have a legitimate reason to burn it. Pepto Bismol pink and sketched palm trees stare at you as you sit on the edge of the tub, and all you can think of is the first time you saw Mike wearing the terrible shirt, how that had ended up, how you left with it the following morning. 

 How had the two of you gone from that to this? Sure, you weren't super fond of him at the beginning of it all, but he grew on you. A lot. He's your best fucking friend. Through the last couple months, through this weird fight you're having, he is your best friend. It's why you're here right now taking care of his drunk ass. 

 It'll pass. This phase will pass, and you'll make up, and you'll get your chance to be honest with him, to tell him how you feel about him. It may have taken you a little too long to arrive at your destination, so to speak, but better late than never. Soon, you'll both be able to look back on this and laugh. 

 People knock on the door here and there, and you scream at them to go away, eventually getting tired of it and just clicking the lock into place. 

 Any time you stop pouring water over his hand, Mike whines and attempts to say something, choppy words that don't make a ton of sense. You wonder if you need to call an ambulance, look for the signs of alcohol poisoning, but he doesn't feel cold, his breathing is even between bouts of vomiting, and his arms aren't curling in that tell-tale way. 

 More than likely, he just made himself sick. He knows better, too. He's been partying for a long enough time to be well aware of the mixing rules. Beer before liquor and all that shit. He may have just not cared tonight, though. From what Erwin has told you, Mike has just been in a generally bad mood for a while now (and Erwin has not tried to be subtle about why). He's barely around the Pike house anymore, he keeps getting called for personal fouls in lacrosse, and he's sleeping with Rhi which is nobody's business but is also strange considering her history—some kind of mutualistic symbiotic relationship that nobody is a real fan of. 

 Not my circus, not my monkeys, you think to yourself, emptying another cup from your place on the floor now. The ceramic was starting to hurt your ass, and you know your arm will probably be a little sore tomorrow, or later today since it's nearing three. 

 Fatigue is beginning to set in, and you know Mike is exhausted because he keeps dozing off on the toilet seat so that you have to nudge him back awake. Until he can speak in mostly coherent sentences, he's not allowed to sleep. 

 Sitting in the bathroom gives you ample amount of time to think. You go over some mental flashcards for a while, notes you took with the help of Mike's magic textbook. Then you think about going to your mom's for Thanksgiving and how much you aren't looking forward to it. Then you think about Zeke showing up only to have to escort his shady brother from the house. God, you had not been happy to see him. You'd been a little afraid, if you're being honest. 

 After figuring out that he had, in fact, blocked Mike's number on your phone, you had stomped into his apartment and initiated a screaming match. You got loud, he got louder, called you a stupid bitch and punched a hole in the drywall. You had decided that was a pretty good time to leave, both the apartment and the relationship. He's been lurking on campus around your most frequented spots—the science building, the library, but you've been doing a good job of camouflaging yourself in groups of other students. Even if he can see you, he can't do much about it. 

 You've thought about reporting him to campus police, but you know nothing will come of it. The golden boy can do no wrong. It's why you've been spending so much time at the PKA house again. You know most of them have your back, and you are absolutely not above asking any of them to walk somewhere with you to fend off your angry ex. 

 You can't wrap your head around what his fucking deal is. Surely he didn't treat Rhi like this after they split. There's no way she would still be so infatuated with him if he had. Is it just because you're the one who dumped him? He had to have seen it coming once you started putting the pieces together, the way he constantly tried to make you feel guilty, isolating you from your friends, invading the privacy of your phone to not only block Mike but also to turn your fucking location on so he could track you (you had found that out after that first trip back to the frat house to talk with Erwin. It had not been pretty).

 It's hard to believe you put up with it for as long as you did. It was only five months, but that's still five months too long. 

 Mike is quiet for several minutes, and you sigh when you see that his eyes are closed once again. He makes a noise of displeasure when you use your foot to gently shake him, grumbling, "Sto-o-op."

 "Nope. Gotta stay awake, Miche. Can't have you fallin' into a coma or something'."

 "Nooo. No Miche."

 "Yes, Miche," you laugh. 

 He scrunches his face up, shakes his head, but the motion seems to make him sick again. 

 When he finishes gagging into the toilet, he lets out a deep, "Gu-uuh," then sniffs. "No Miche. Jus' she—she—...Jus' her."

 You can figure out the rest, but you can't decide if you want to smile or cry. Only you can call him that. Well, you and his mom. You miss her. And his dad. And Scout. You hope to see them again. 

 "Okay. Just Mike then."

 He hums in confirmation then shakes his hand in the tub so that you'll douse it once again. 

 "You're a needy drunk, you know that?" 

 Mike doesn't respond to that, just takes a few deep breaths as his eyes close yet again. 

 "Sleep now," he mumbles. 

 "No, no sleep now."

 "Sleep now."

 "Oh my fucking god."

 His mouth drops open a little, and the first thing you think to do is splash him in the face with the cup of water. 

 He spits and splutters but doesn't shift much, still wrapped around the toilet. You try not to look inside when you stand and reach to flush what's already gathered, trying to shield some of Mike's face from any flying droplets. Then you wash your hands and sit back down. You figure you'll be here for at least another couple of hours. The sun will be coming up soon. Thank god it's a Saturday. 

 Both Erwin and Nile knock on the door for an update, and you yell that you're okay. Mike isn't throwing up as often, and when he does, nothing is coming up anymore. He's gonna be in a world of pain when he returns to his normal self. 

 So fucking stupid. He's so fucking stupid. 

 He mutters nonsense on and off. Sometimes you can translate what he's trying to say, but other times not so much. 

 "President… dumb boyyy."

 "Hy-poc-risy an' jealous… Hypocrite… I…"

 "Hand… wanna hold…" but when you grab it, he just gurgles, "Waterrr." 

 There's really no pleasing him. 

 "Why-y-y… dick… Erwin."

 "Volcano books… n' space jam… come an' sam… an'... to the jam."

 You laugh too loudly, and Mike cringes at the noise, but the corner of his mouth still lifts. You don't think he knows what he's doing or saying yet—isn't downloading any new memories—it doesn't matter because you will remember this for the both of you. 

 "You're fucking ridiculous."

 Mike pushes himself back from the toilet to sit against the wall, hissing and clumsily rubbing his chest. His shirt is wet and disgusting, and he must know on some level because he says, "Shower," and starts pulling himself over the tub. 

 "Jesus Christ, Mike."

 He's too tall, dangling an arm and a leg over the side and sinking lower. 

 "Water, pleeeease."

 He apparently isn't aware of the faucet that is still on. Whoever has to pay these bills… You feel sorry for them. 

 "No, dude. I am not letting you drown."

 Mike fucking giggles, "Lifeguard," then tries to take his shirt off. He doesn't have the motor skills to handle buttons and looks to be confused by them anyway, so his next solution is to just rip the material down the middle. 

 "Yeah, okay, I guess that works."

 The showerhead is turned on, and you sit on the edge of the tub again, shivering when the cool spray blows toward you while keeping an eye on Mike. Reaching over, you turn the temperature up a little, knowing that the alcohol has dropped his body temperature some. You're almost tempted to slide under the water with him, but there's no room, and you're not about to just make yourself comfortable on top of him.

 So, you just sit and stare and think about how tired you are. Physically and mentally and spiritually tired. You just need some time to not exist—just a few days. It feels like this semester has been nothing but drama so far, and it is exhausting. Maybe that's why Mike did this to himself. Maybe he just needed to not exist. 

 He starts to sit up a little in the tub, but his hand falters and sends him sliding back down. "Fuck."

 Not caring about getting wet at this point, you simply stand up between his spread legs, the shower drenching you immediately, and grab his hands to tug him upright. 

 "ευχαριστώ."

 "Come again?"

 "Means thanks," he mumbles, slumping forward. 

 You think of his family again, how he and his mother had just fallen into Greek as soon as you'd stepped into the house, leaving you surprised and impressed and warm in several different ways. 

 Squatting, you tilt your head to catch his half-lidded gaze. 

 "You back with me yet?" It's been nearly four hours—Fuck, why is there music playing still—but he might need more time. 

 "Dunno."

 "Can you tell who I am?" 

 Mike does his best to roll his eyes. "'m drunk, not a amnes—amnesic—"

 "Amnesiac," you supply with a smirk. Smartass.

 "That," he nods, pointing at you with a finger gun. 

 He can actually understand you now, so that's good, don't have to worry about him dying anymore since he's making progress. 

 Opening his mouth, Mike catches some water in it, swishes and spits. You expect him to tell you that you can leave. He can take care of himself, doesn't want to see you, all manner of hurtful things he has every reason to feel. 

 Instead, he blinks at you, extends his arms, and makes grabby hands. 

 "Can I help you?" 

 He doesn't say anything, just keeps reaching for you. He could grab you without issue. His fingers are already brushing your knees, but he either doesn't notice or wants to wait for you. 

 "Mike, I can't get any closer," you laugh. 

 Switching tactics, he pats his chest. 

 "Oh, no. I am but about to put myself in the line of vom just 'cause you wanna cuddle or some shit."

 Truthfully, you would also like to cuddle, to feel Mike's body against yours again, trace your fingers over his skin and listen to his heartbeat, but…

 Not like this. 

 "Please. No more vom. Promise."

 "I don't think you're in a state to make promises like that."

 He says your name followed by one more, "Please," and you give in, letting out a long breath and grunting as you find a way to lay between his legs with your head on the lower part of his sternum. You're curled a little awkwardly, one foot up against the ceramic while the other is curled beneath you. It is not by any means a comfortable position, but it's what Mike wants. 

 A few months ago, laying like this would inevitably lead to other things. Talking and joking would lead to giggling, maybe some well aimed prods to your ribs. You would bite in retaliation, his shoulder or, if the angle was right, his nipple, until he pulled you up further to sit in his lap, hot mouth finding yours, and so on and so forth. 

 This is different on every possible level. Neither of you are speaking. Your hands are unmoving on each other's bodies. There's no heat save for the water that's pouring down on both of you, plastering your silky costume to your skin. 

 Still, it's enough to lull you into a drowsy state, the ache in your eyes urging you to close them, but as soon as you do, Mike speaks. 

 "'m mad at you."

 Your stomach drops. His words don't come as a surprise, but they still sting. 

 "I know," you sigh. "I'm mad at me too."

 Your head moves with his chest, a gentle up and down that could—and has—put you to sleep. 

 "Still love you."

 You bite your lip, fingers lightly digging into Mike's warm skin as you remind yourself that he's drunk, and he hates you, and he probably won't remember any of this when he wakes up anyway. There's no reason to get emotional over it. No reason. 

 "I love you too, Miche."

 Silence closes in around you once more. You drift in and out for about half an hour until a loud knock jolts you awake. 

 You scramble off of Mike and hop to the door, leaving puddles and drops behind you. Both Nile and Erwin look panicked in the hallway, the shorter man nearly shouting, "Is he fucking dead in there?" 

 "Not deeeead," Mike calls from the tub. 

 Erwin peers over your shoulder at him, then at you, then takes on a disappointed expression. "You didn't. Come on, he's so drunk."

 "What do you—" You frown as you piece together his implication, then squawk and shove Erwin with two wet hands. "I didn't fuck him, you perv! What is wrong with you?" 

 He chuckles and bats away your hands. "I never know with you two! You can't blame me!" 

 "You're disgusting."

 "Look who's talking. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" Erwin raises his eyebrows. "Less bunny and more… I don't know, ghoul?"

 God, you had completely forgotten about the face paint. 

 "Shut up, yours isn't much better." His black and white paint is smeared in several places like someone ran their fingers through it. The collar of his shirt is stained, and his hair is tousled. You can't tell if it's the result of getting frisky or falling asleep. 

 "Stop flirting in front of meeee," Mike whines loudly, sitting up and pushing the shower knob a little too hard to shut the water off. 

 "We're not—" You and Erwin start at the same time.

 Nile interrupts with a drawn out, unconvinced little note and informs both of you, "You guys get a little flirty sometimes. Sorry to break it to you."

 You frown at the blond and he frowns back, then you both frown at Nile who shrugs. "I'm just saying. There's a reason people are thinking things."

 It's not important, and you'd rather not dwell on it because you know the truth, and Erwin knows the truth, and Mike will if he'll just fucking listen, but he's fucked up right now, so that's a problem for another day. 

 "Whatever, we'll work on it, but for now���" You watch as Mike tries and fails to pull himself out of the tub. 

 "He looks like the girl from The Ring," Erwin snorts. 

 "Yeah, if she was giant. And, a guy," you add. 

 Wet hair is hanging over Mike's eyes, still sopping wet and dripping. He's all awkward angles as he hoists himself up, kicking a leg over and swearing. 

 "We should probably help him," Nile says, fighting his own smile. 

 "Probably."

 Between the three of you, you manage to transport Mike from the bathroom to Erwin's room on the third fucking floor which is no easy feat. Nile waits for his friend to be dumped onto the mattress, then announces that Hitch is waiting for him to come back to bed. You don't know how long that will last, but your friend falling into the same frat boy trap you did is mildly hilarious. 

 It leaves you and Erwin to make Mike comfortable. You wrap his head in a towel you found poking out of the hamper, murmur, "Hope this doesn't have anything gross on it," to which Erwin responds with an unamused look. 

 You peel the ruined, tacky shirt from Mike’s shoulders and toss it into a corner but you let Erwin take care of the rest. You've seen everything Mike has to offer, but that doesn't stop you from feeling weird about seeing his dick when he can't really stop you. So, like Mike did last year when he spilled water on your shirt, you turn your back to allow him some privacy. 

 There's some rustling and grunting, but when Erwin tells you it's safe, you look to find Mike in a pair of gym shorts, hair still wrapped, looking more disgruntled than you've ever seen him. 

 "'m still wet."

 "You sure are, big guy," Erwin agrees, slowly guiding him to lay down on his side and explaining, "You need to sleep like this, alright? Otherwise you might choke and die."

 "Erwin!" You throw your hands up in the air. "Why would you even—?"

 "Know how it works, dumb… butt."

 "Oh, dumb butt. That's a good one," Erwin grins. "Very creative."

 "Don't panotrize me!" 

 You have to cover your mouth to keep from cackling, and Erwin shakes his head, corrects, "Patronize, Mike. Patronize."

 "That's what I said!" 

 It takes a while to get him relaxed again. Apparently, Mike's favorite thing to do while drunk is run his mouth to Erwin, so while he's busy dealing with that, you raid Erwin's closet for a shirt and then his dresser for boxers. Once you are mostly dry, you snatch the towel from Mike's hair to wipe your face and toss it away, then step up onto the bed near the pillows, urging Mike to shift so that you can sit against the headboard. 

 He immediately rests his stubbled cheek on one of your thighs, then wraps both arms around the other, his fingers melting into the fat just below your ass as he grunts, "Mine."

 "All yours, buddy," Erwin assures with a grin before glancing at you. "I'm gonna pass out in the chair—" he gestures to the one in the corner of the room, "—if you need me for anything, just wake me up, okay?" 

 "Yeah, thanks." Then, "Hey, Erwin?" He hums in response. "Don't tell him about tonight, like, me staying with him."

 "Why?" 

 "I don't want him to stress out about what he may have said or done. 'Cause I know he will."

 "Whatever you say," Erwin shrugs, collapsing in the chair without even changing or washing his face. All three of you are gonna look like characters from a horror movie whenever you wake up, and the thought makes you smirk as you card your fingers through Mike's damp hair. 

 It's getting longer. He could probably put it up if he wanted to. He's been letting his beard grow a little too. You aren't sure if it's laziness or just trying a slightly different look, but whatever the case, it's hot. 

 He keeps your leg clutched tightly to him like some kind of stuffed animal until he drifts off to sleep. It's nearing five, and you know you probably won't get any quality rest while you're here, so you figure you'll just doze for a while until you can safely extract yourself from Mike's grip. He probably won't appreciate waking up like this anyway. No matter what he's said to you and Erwin—declarations and staked claims—it'll all be worthless in just a few hours. 

 A symphony of snores plays through the room, Erwin splayed out in his chair like he's passed out in a cheap Vegas hotel while Mike drools on your thigh, and if it was anyone else, you'd be disgusted and shove him away, but since it’s Mike, it’s weirdly endearing. He can slobber on you all he wants, it won’t bother you in the slightest. 

 Eventually, the sun shining through the window becomes too bright for you to even fall into a light sleep, so just as you planned, you gently untangle yourself from Mike, pausing when he grunts and frowns, but when he doesn’t stir any more than that, you manage to slip out of the bed. 

 Grabbing your phone and costume, still a little wet and cold because of it, you leave as quietly as you can. Your shoes are still in the downstairs bathroom along with Mike’s shirt, and you have a legitimate mental debate over whether you really should just toss it, but as much as you hate it, you decide against it. 

 You have to step over several bodies to get to the front door, more than usual which is concerning since the punch Eren spiked was thrown out (or really, thrown all over him), but you’re able to make it out without tripping.

 The drive to your dorm feels too long, sun beaming right into your itchy eyes the entire way. You nearly cry in relief when you finally fall onto your mattress, already well aware that most, if not all, of your day will be spent under the covers. You’re more than fine with it, allowing yourself to just not exist for several hours exactly how you wanted to.

[lovesgonnabe]

Love Is Worth It Episode V - We Got The Pandemic Blues Under a New York City Skyline

Characters: Chris Evans x Maya Alonso-Evans (Black OFC)

Warnings: straight fluff, cursing, implied smut.

Word Count: 3485

Summary: What happens in NYC stays in NYC!

AN: The NYC Skyline prompt is by @iguessweallcrazyithinktho thank you so much for letting me use your theme I hope I did it justice. If you haven't read any of her stuff what are you doing get on it!

Disclaimer: There’s only slight edits so there may be errors. Also if you haven’t noticed this series will have many time jumps and things referenced here may make more sense later on in the series when new episodes come out so please bear with me.

Taglist: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss, @canadian-girl87, @i-just-like-fanfics, @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful​ if you would like to join the taglist message me.

Please leave a note and tell me what you think!

June 13th, 2020

Being with Chris had its many perks but not working was definitely one Maya never wanted to take advantage of.

When Chris first brought it up when they got engaged she looked at him like he had two heads and said “I worked to hard put myself through school to get these expensive ass letters behind my name to just stay my ass at home” and that was the last time they had that conversation.

But fast forward to 2020 If you told Maya that she would have to close both of her dermatology offices in the middle of award season a few months ago she would have laughed at you.

She just couldn’t see herself not working because she loved what she does, but with both New York and Boston putting in place stay at home orders there’s nothing she could do.

It didn't help that it was only Maya in Boston dealing with work and all that entails, Delilah's up in the air school situation, and a whole hoax of things while Chris was in L A being as supportive of a husband and father as he could be on the other side of the country.

At least Dodger was being pretty normal.

Thanks to Chris's family for being so helpful where they could because for a minute Maya felt like she was beginning to drown.

This saga starts with the beginning of the pandemic.

January was chill there were whispers that there was a deadly pandemic on the horizon but no one took it seriously.

February Chris had left at the beginning of the month to LA to promote his new show Defending Jacob and it wasn't like anything out of the ordinary the couple worked, and called each other daily.

Chris told her he'd have to be there through March but would be home in time for Maya's birthday in April.

Her lawsuit against Boston PD was settled out of court for an undisclosed amount that was donated to charity and trust me that lawsuit cost them a pretty penny because Chris was threatening to go to the press and Boston PD did not need anymore negative press.

After finding out that the older officer already had many reports against him for abuse of power he was "let go" by Boston PD and the other officer was demoted to desk duty and sent Maya an apology letter for his actions

She thinks he only did it because her husband is Chris Evans but she tries not to be a cynic.

In mid March with her offices were forced to close and the lives of her twenty employees were in her hands, but sin there was no money coming in she had to regrettably furlough all of them until she could open back up.

This news could come at a worse time because Lilah's school was trying to transition them to online learning for the rest of the year.

So Maya now had to also be her home school teacher for the last 2 months before summer vacation .

Maya does feel blessed because she was still able to teach some derm online classes through NYU, and her family was healthy but Chris still wasn't home.

Because of travel restrictions in LA on April 1st Maya found out that the earliest Chris could be home was in possibly July or Mid June if they are lucky because he need to start filming for Grey Man that was set in Boston.

Then rumors started to swirl that Chris could be cheating on Maya but

She doesn't play that and isn't a dummy

Chris isn't stupid and

He's been in their home in LA quarenting with his brother Scott the whole time so if some foul shit did happen she would be the first one to know and on the first jet smoking to beat some ass.

But hey when it rains it pours.

In interviews Chris would say he was "quartining with his family at home in Boston."

They would try to make the spaces look just like Chris and Maya's homebase in Boston even going as far as strategically moving photos of them in the background to make it look like his office at home.

And it actually work most people thought Chris was in Boston anyways and it was all gossip the others thought he went back home to clean up this mess.

But nope Chris was not in Boston he was 2,764 miles away and this time it all just felt different and he hated not being able to be there with them during this crazy uncertain time and Maya just needed a vacation.

In April Maya and Delilah just had dinner at the house for her birthday they facetimed Chris and once Liliah had gone to bed Chris and Maya had sexytime over the phone.

The rest of the month Maya just went with the flow and did the same through June.

Now we are all caught up and in the present day.

It's Chris's 39th birthday but he was still in LA.

Maya stayed up to call him at midnight in LA because that was their tradition but now it was about 12pm and Chris has not picked up any of her phone calls Maya was annoyed.

Maya and Delilah sat in the Den as Maya was detangling Delilah's freshly washed hair getting ready to put her curly hair into braids as Mulan played on the tv in front of them.

"Mommy can I call dad it's his birthday and I haven't got to talk to him today. Lilah says playing with Maya's phone.

"Go ahead sweetheart maybe you'll have better luck them me." said Maya as she sectioned Lilah's hair.

As the facetime ringtone went Dodger who was laying in his dog bed next to Lilah began to bark and then he ran for the front door Maya looked that way but didn't see anything since the alarm didn't go off either which she found strange.

She shrugged it off only for a second until she heard a bag hit the ground as she quickly stood up the only thought in her head was to protect Delilah helping her to hide under the couch.

As the person entered their den Dodger continued to bark and she grabbed a pair hair scissors about to attack the intruder until she saw his face and exhaled the breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"CHRIS you scared the shit out of me" she said before he could say anything.

He laughed "Baby I didn't mean to scare you" Chris said

Lilah screamed and crawled from under the couch.

"daddy, daddy, daddy I missed you and Happy Birthday." Lilah said running into Chris's arm.

"I missed you to babycakes you been taking care of mommy for me" Chris said holding Lilah and walking towards a still shocked Maya.

He kissed Maya's forehead trying to pull her into a hug but she rolled her eyes and pushed his hand away.

"Chris i thought you weren't coming home till July" Maya asked

Chris shrugged "plans change now are you gonna come and give daddy a kiss you what"

He said flopping on the couch with Lilah on his lap.

Mays sucked her teeth peeked his lips and told Lilah to come so she could finish her hair.

Her saltiness cause Chris to laugh as Lilah moved over to her mom.

They were sitting on the same couch so Chris bent over and began to whisper in her ear. "Stop acting like that baby I wanted to surprise you"

Maya gave minimal response and Chris didn't like that so then he brought heat.

When he walked Maya had on a beige short set the top was fairly tin and the shorts barely covered her ass, he could see her nipples stand at attention on her delicious breast when walked.

It's been 3 months since he's had sex with his wife and boy can he feel it. He gave her tigh a firm squeeze now pecking her spot behind her ear forcing Maya to stop mid greasing Lilah's scalp to take a deep breath.

"if you stop acting up tonight I'll do that thing with my tongue that you like if not daddy won't be letting you cum at all tonight.

Chris said moving his body back to his original position smirking at his shooken up wife whose attitude did a 180 quick, fast and in a hurry.

Chris was no home and with his girls and he couldn’t be any happier.

After braiding Delilah's hair Maya went and they dropped her off at Chris’s moms which was a fight in itself because she wanted to stay with her daddy but Maya had other plans.

The original plan was to take Chris out of the country for his birthday but plans change.

Before Chris showed up today Maya had nothing planned for Chris's birthday because he was not suppose to be home they were just going to the same thing they did for her birthday.

On there way back home my had an idea with there hands intertwined Maya began to speak.

“So birthday boy what do you want to do for your birthday” Maya asked

“You know I don’t care as long as I’m with you my love” Chris said kissing her hand.

Maya giggled “Well we’ve dropped Dede at your moms and Scott said he could take Dodger”

She states looking at the puppy through the rear view mirror as Chris began to rub is thumb over her knuckles.

“It seems you already have a plan for us babe” he smirks

“I know you are just getting home but how about we drop Dodger off and I was thinking maybe drive to New York, I need to get out of Boston and have a bit of a staycation”. She said.

Chris chuckled and looked at Maya as the stopped at the red light.

“Wherever you lead I’ll follow. He said

“You are so corny old man” Maya laughed as she leaned over and peek his sweet lips.

They continued their drive to Scotts and talked enjoying eachothers company for the first time in a while, they were so wrapped up in each other that Dodger had to bark to remind Chris he was about to pass Scoots house .

Maya laughed at the puppy then pet him telling him how good of a dog he is.

“Alright birthday boy Scott has Dodger now let's switch its my turn to drive you around” She said.

They headed home to pick up a few things and then The Evans were off and headed for there trip.

After the 3 and 1/2 hour drive they got to New York and the barren streets shocked them.

They are staying in there penthouse apartment on the upper east side that over looks Central Park and New York's famous skyline.

Before settling in Maya decided to get groceries once she got back Jazz played softly in her ears as the punchy aroma of the candle Slow Burn hit her nose.

“Hey Chris I'm back” she called out to him.

She was met without a response just the smooth stylings of Frank Sinatra.

Maya put the groceries in the kitchen and headed to their master bedroom.

Kicking her shoes off and following the rose petals into the bathroom that revealed Chris who sat in all his glory in the pink tinted bathtub.

Apparently he did not hear her as his eyes stayed closed and his arms outstretched.

And all Maya could do was admire the greek god that was her husband.

His long wingspan encompassed the entire back of the tub as his strong biceps would flex ever deep breath he took. And don't to get Maya started on those baby blues which were one of the only things Lilah did not get from Chris. Those same blue eyes were now looking straight at her.

“I was hoping you’d be back soon” he said

Raising his head to look at his goddess of a wife smirking at him.

“So I’m guessing you would like me to join you?” She asked

Maya teased him as she began to slowly remove her clothes.

“Hey aren’t I the birthday boy that shouldn’t even be a question Maya so you better bring your sexy ass in here” Chris said to her as his arms still laid on the back of the tub looking like a king”

Maya stepped in with Chris’s help the warm water encapsulating her body as she sinks down.

She sighs in satisfaction when her body is finally completely in the water as she lays into Chris’s embrace.

They just sit there and enjoy each other company, washing the dirt off of each other from the day, and stealing kisses from one another.

Maya and Chris were that couple you loved to hate they didn’t show off their love that much with Chris’s anxiety and Maya’s destain for public scrutiny because she’s black woman with a man of Chris stature, PDA was mostly off the table. However behind closed doors they are the cutest most intimate couple you’d ever meet.

Once she was clean from her road dirt Maya left the water first placing a kiss on Chris’s lips as she headed to start dinner and Chris laid back and continued to relax.

Once Chris finally got out the bath he found Maya in the kitchen halfway finished with dinner.

“Jesus babe it smells fantastic in here and I see you changed the music” Chris said

He was now fully dressed in a blue t-shit in matching joggers, his hair damp from the bath as Lauryn Hill's rendition of Can't Take My Eyes off of You played in the background.

She chuckled “only the best for you my king”

"Mhm I like the sound of that" He said as he went in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of white wine and poured them both a glass.

She was at the counter cutting up veggies.

“Ok so how long do I have wait before I can devour all this?” he asked placing the glass in front of Maya.

They took their first cheers of the night tapping the glasses together.

Maya took a sip and moan at the taste of the wine.

“Soon Chris don’t stress it babe you will be fed very soon” she said.

Her hips began to sway to the music as she hummed along.

At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive

Chris walked up behind her wrapping her arms around waist swaying with her body and catching the rhythm.

You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you

Moving her hair to her left shoulder Chris begins to kiss her neck.

"Remember when we first bought this place." Chris asked

"Yes you didn't want to you said my place in Brooklyn was enough for us" Maya said putting the knife down and melted into Chris's strong arms.

"Mmm but you did an excellent job at convincing me why we need this place, 3 bedrooms right in the Heart of the city just for times likes these when want to get away." Chris said with his arms still wrapped around her.

She laughed "I thought it was because you fucked me against the balcony on our terrace is why you said yes"

He smirked at the memory "well that to"

Chris sucked on her neck and moved his down her satin dress but the timer on the pot decided to be a cock block and go off before he could make a move.

He groaned and Maya laughed directed him to get ready to eat.

Just as the food was finishing up Chris set the dining table for two, taking the rest of the flowers from his bath laying them out between the kitchen and there Terrence where they were having dinner overlooking the city.

It was a beautiful night. There was a soft breeze and the city was a glow quieter that usual but still a sight to behold.

Maya brought out the food as Chris poured them another glass, they both sat prayed then rose their glasses to cheers again.

During dinner Chris made some corny jokes that always seemed to put Maya in a better mood as Maya would slyly rub her foot up Chris’s pant leg.

Next came dessert still out on the terrace they shared a slice of cake (more like Maya fed Chris cake) which is how she ended up in his lap enjoying the very expensive yet immaculate view they had from their home.

He rubbed her thigh as he kisses her shoulder just thinking of the fastest way to get Maya out of her dress.

"god you are beautiful" Chris said

His hand now playing with the trim of her panties under her strappy white satin dress.

"Oh no birthday boy you not fucking me out here tonight you gotta come inside for your last present" Maya said.

Chris groaned Maya got up seductively waking back inside her curves just begging him to follow her

“This woman Is going to be the death of me” Chris thought as he came back inside and closed the door that lead to the terrace.

Maya handed Chris his third and final glass of wine of the night.

He raised an eyebrow "Are you trying to get me drunk Mrs. Evans so you can have your way with me?" he asked.

Taking a sip from his glass he smacked Maya the ass and watched it move as she walked towards their living room.

She laughed "I wouldn't have to get you drunk to have my way with you Mr. Evans"

Their living room had floor to ceiling windows that overlook Chris's second favorite city, and that's where Maya stood wine glass in hand looking all the people that looked like ants. But all Chris could think about was how this woman fell for him.

She watched the scenery and he watched her but when that signature trumpet blew he remembered that the music was still playing and so did she.

Maya turned around to see Chris was watching her one hand in his pocket and the other still holding his wine, she made a face at him.

"What are you looking at me like that Chris, you ok?” she asked hand on her hip taking another drink from her glass.

The moon shined off her skin like she was in the sun, her white dress reminding him of their wedding day the way it hugged her figure.

Still speechless Chris walked up to her placing both of their glasses on the coffee table, he brushed her hair behind her ear and she moans nuzzling her head in his touch.

"Baby I am absolutely perfect because I am here with you" he says.

Chris softly pulls her by the waist bringing her flush against her body as raspy voice of Louis Armstrong in Le Vie En Rose brought butterfly’s to Maya’s stomach because this was their song.

His hands lay softly on her waist as her arms lay around his shoulder as they dancer slowly around there living room.

Hold me close and hold me fast, The magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose.

His cologne sent waves of pleasure and warmth through her body, when Maya laid her head on his chest not wanting to let him go. As their heartbeat became in sync the moonlight casted their sillones on the ground.

They were two lovers who were lost in eachother hoping to never get out and wanting to hide from the world it felt new but familiar.

Once the song ended Chris kissed her so deep and and passionately Maya thought she was gonna cum then and there.

Chris's hands moved from their previously respectable position making circle on her hips to the bottom of her ass telling Maya to jump causing Maya wrap her chocolate legs around his waist.

As Chris walked he kept repeating how much he missed Maya so much while he was in LA.

They couldn’t even make it back to their bedroom for their first round of many.

And Maya was a goner as Chris made love to her all night in every corner of their apartment as the city watched as the couple were engulfed with each other.

But there was a little voice in the back of Maya's head "Well damn how are we going to top 40 next year" it asked.

The preoccupied side of her brain shooed hat thought away so she could just enjoy being with her man at this moment.

Thanking god there was no more space between them like the miles before.

[cayofdreams]

I Can See It in Your Eyes

Summary: You’re a full-fledged cold-blooded villain, but Dabi suspects otherwise. And he knows just the way to get you to prove your loyalty…and your faith.

Words: 3.7k

Rating: 🌊 Explicit, Smut

Warnings: cursing, virginity (not very explicit), deep-throating, choking, heavy breath-play (receiving), asphyxiation, God complex, dark ending

Notes: Was supposed to just be a smutty angsty drabble to release some anger from the day. Oh well. Enjoy my rage~

 You’d been a part of the League of Villains for the past 5 months now. It was a gradual process for your mind to go from being the ambitious, good-natured upcoming pro-hero, to a cold-hearted deviant that seemed to show no one an ounce of mercy.

And why should they deserve your mercy? It was their fault that you became who you were now.

You’d been kidnapped and kept as a ransom by the league, constantly tortured in hopes that the monetary demands would be filled. Their torture techniques becoming more sinister by the day.

But you put up with it, because you knew the light at the end of the tunnel was closer than it seemed.

Besides, it wasn’t even a lot of money. A measly $2.3 million dollars. Any rich pig could’ve came up with that to rescue such an admirable hero.

So you waited.

And waited.

Waiting for someone to answer the ransom to let you free, until one day Dabi came into the cell you were in, holding his phone. A dubious grin on his face, possibly signaling they had got the ransom they hoped for.

“Good news, little kitty. Would you like to hear it?”

Your eyes looked up expectantly at his bright blue ones. If this was the news you’d been waiting for, you’d probably call them the most angelic eyes you’d ever seen despite his more devilish appearance.

Dabi chuckled at your childish expression and without saying another word bent down to your eye-level and played the news clip on his phone. You excitedly looked at the news clip, finally, FINALLY you would be sav-

“BREAKING NEWS: RANSOM WILL NOT BE PAID FOR THE RELEASE OF H/N, PERSONALLY KNOWN AS L/N F/N”

“…wha…?”

Dabi’s chuckle turned into a sinister cackle as he watched your hopeful eyes change almost on cue, into a pair of almond-shaped pool of despair and confusion.

“Aren’t you happy? You get to stay with us forever, now.”

“No…no. That can’t be right…” You looked at Dabi as you still tried to latch onto hope that he had digitally manipulated the clip. “Go to another news channel! Do it! Please!”

Amused by your agony, he let you watch his fingers tap around on the screen, showing you all the different news sites saying a different variation of the same thing. He clicked on another video clip.

It was your old classmate Midoriya standing at a podium in front was what seemed like hundreds of reporters. All shouting questions at him. Finally, he picked one reporter to answer to.

“Deku! What do you say to the people who are outraged at the rejection of submitting to the League of Villains’ ransom? Don’t you think H/N’s life is important?”

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the audience with determination.

“It was a hard decision. But we have an integrity to keep as heroes. We will not give into measly demands by the same villains who’d burn us down at any chance! We are heroes! And we’ll keep looking and fighting for the return of H/N the best way we know! With dignity! It’s what she would want!”

Your eyes dazed over in apathy as you watched the No. 1 hero ultimately send you to your death.

Dignity? Integrity? Ha. What bullshit. Bullshit that probably took on the appearance of beautiful flower, but still smelled of shit all the same. How dare he pretend like letting you stay in this hell-hole was the honorable thing to do.

Dabi took the phone away from your eyesight, smiling maniacally at your dying resolve.

“I told you many times over these past couple weeks, kitten, that your heroism is nothing but a façade.”

You stayed silent as every emotion you developed as a normal human being in a society, became figments of destroyed past.

“Will you kill me?” Your eyes continued to look forlornly at the cold cement floor, ignoring the rats that would run over top your feet.

“Oh no, kitten. That would be a waste of an asset.” He brushed his fingers over your now sickly-looking skin, grasping your jaw so he could admire your new callous face expression. “You’ll be joining us for real now. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

You didn’t reply as he let go of your face to let it hang dejectedly from your shoulders.

“I’ll just let you sit here and think about it. I’m sure you’ll come around.”

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

As you sat on the torn, dusty couch you scrolled through your phone looking at what people were talking about on forums and the like about the League of Villains. It seemed as time grew on, more and more people were joining the league’s movement…your movement.

Good.

It was about time people got a wake up call on what was really going on in their so-called “hero” society. And they didn’t even have to get tortured to see it. How could you have been so oblivious all this time? You always thought the League of Villains and their supporters were a cult. A demented cult.

But you felt more accomplished here than you ever did “above ground”. After-all you were the hottest topic that people talked when it came to villains. There were always two distinct opinions when it came to your ultimate aligning with the league.

Those who said you were still in need of rescue, plagued with Stockholm syndrome.

And those who said that if someone like you could side with such a group, the League of Villains must not have been as evil as heroes portrayed.

You’d probably care about the public’s opinion of you if you had the emotions to engage in such a controversy. It seemed all feelings of love, hatred, sadness, happiness, and every other useless emotion left you the day that you saw Midoriya in that news clip.

That was for the better. You could focus now, on the important things.

As you read various articles on your screen, you heard a creaking on the floorboards. When you looked over you saw your ally Dabi standing by the hallway.

“You’re up early, Dabi.”

“I could say the same to you, kitten.” He came over and sat by you on the couch. You’d grown used to his ghastly appearance, now admiring his scars from an aesthetic point of view.

You used to wonder what he thought of his scars. How he got them. But those feelings of curiosity would dissipate as the cold-bloodedness in you took over more and more.

“Anything new?”

“Other than our growing number of supporters, not much. Before long, heroes will be a thing of the past.”

He snickered at you. “You say that like you mean it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dabi moved closer to you, his cerulean meeting your e/c once again. “You think I don’t see it?”

You stayed quiet, wondering what he could possibly be accusing you of.

“I know you still check the news in hopes that your hero, Deku has discovered new leads on your location.”

You laughed at his absurdity. “You’re delusional, Dabi.” Your eyes went back to looking at your phone. “Perhaps you should go back to bed, you’re obviously still tired from your atrocities of the night before.”

“Perhaps. But I don’t think those atrocities are affecting my eyesight.”

When you looked back up at him, he had pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. A photograph to be exact. “What’s that?”

“You tell me, kitten.” He upheld the photo to your face and your eyes widened at the picture depicted.

It was an old photo of you and Midoriya after getting ice cream together. He had looked so cute with melted cream all over his cheeks so you snapped a photo of the both of you. It was a photo you kept in your costume all the time. Your old costume, that is.

“That proves nothing but the fact you ravaged my costume during my capture.”

“You’d have a point if I didn’t just find it under your mattress.” He crinkled the paper up in his hands. “You still think about your little crush?”

You squinted your eyes at him. How could he think that? You despised Midoriya and everything he ever stood for. If there was even a twinkling of emotion left in you, it would surely be hatred. “You’re pissing me off, now.”

“Oh so you do feel things? Then you won’t mind if I…” A flash of blue flame appeared on his hand, burning the crinkled paper in a matter of seconds. Unconsciously your eyebrows had lowered in a saddened expression.

“See there? I can see it in your eyes, kitten.”

Your face became deadpan again as you stood up from the couch. “If you’re going to continue with these erroneous allegations, I’ll be going for a walk.”

Before you could turn away, he grabbed you by the shoulder making you look back at him confusingly. His hand slowly moved up to your neck, fingers gripping tightly around your throat. The heat of his quirk slightly stinging your tender flesh, but you didn’t move.

“I’ll kill you, you know? Turn you into a little charred kitten.” He turned up the heat and you twinged at the increasing sting. “No one would be able to tell how pretty your face was. I’d make sure of it.”

You thought carefully on your next words. You trusted and gained the trust of everyone in the league, but that didn’t mean they weren’t deranged sociopaths. Your bond with them, while apparent, was still the weakest due to them knowing each other longer, and your lack of emotions making it difficult to form deeper relationships.

“What do you want, Dabi?” As you looked impassively into cerulean eyes, you felt his thumb move smoothly over your bottom lip before sticking it in between your lip and teeth, rubbing along your gums. A laugh escaped as you realized his intentions with you. “So this is what its about? Ridiculous.”

“I don’t think there’s anything ridiculous with confirming the loyalty of the maniacs I have to be around.” He took his other hand and slipped it under your skirt to grip the side of your panties before heating them to ash. “I want what I’ve been asking of you for a long time, kitten.”

He pressed his warm fingers around your vulva and slowly circled your folds. The heat adding an indescribable pleasure. A small moan escaped from your lips. “...If I do this with you, you’ll never mention my shitty past again.”

“Deal”

Immediately you pushed him off you before gripping him tightly by the collar of his shirt, dragging him down on the couch. You crouched down on the couch with him with your head by his crotch, roughly palming him over his pants. “I don’t plan on dragging this out, I have actual duties to attend to.”

“Then you better work hard, kitten” His freakishly villainous grin teased you, knowing this was your first time being intimate with someone before. He probably thought you were going to be some shy scared girl who didn’t know the first thing about sex. But you’d prove him wrong.

You took the zipper of his pants and briskly pulled it down. Pulling his pants and boxers down, you were presented with a perfectly intact, flaccid cock. He chuckled at your hesitation.

“I told you you’d have to work hard.”

Ignoring his comment, you took his cock in his hands before shoving it in your mouth. It was softer than your tongue, and a bit cool compared to the feelings of Dabi’s hands on you earlier. Perhaps he wanted to feel 100% of the warmth from your mouth.

As you began sucking, you felt your mouth feel fuller and fuller. A part of you feeling a bit accomplished at arousing your sinister ally, another apart a bit worried at how you were going to take any more of his cock in your mouth. You started to use your hands to stroke the part of his shaft that you couldn’t handle. Dabi glided his fingers through your hair before gripping your locks.

“You need some help with that, kitten?” His calm suggestion not matching the force of his hands on your head, forcing you to suddenly take all of his cock down your throat. You gagged and spat up whatever saliva you could to keep from choking. Your gargling noises arousing Dabi even more, making your throat feel even more constricted.

“Now, don’t worry. I’ll do the work since its your first time.” Still having your cock in your throat, he sat up so that one of his knees was between your thighs, digging into the couch, while his other leg stood on the floor for stabilization. The strong grip on your hair maneuvered you to sit on your ass as he slowly worked his cock in and out of your throat. “But next time, I’ll expect you to service me on your own.”

Before you could protest his suggestion of a second time, he thrusted his hips vigorously towards your face. You reached your hands up to grip the hem of his shirt trying to stabilize yourself, but it was impossible with how ruthless he was going. You started struggling to breathe and tried pulling on his shirt to get him to stop. But it was to no avail.

“Just breathe through your nose…and stick your tongue out..oh fuck yeah- that feels so good, kitten.” Dabi shoved your face into his hips so that your nose was firmly pressed against his pelvis and paused. “Look up at me.”

He could cum instantly from the look you were giving him right now. It wasn’t apathy. Nor seduction. It was the look you gave him when you were pleading for him to find a different news source. When you were still caged up and begging for the news to be a lie. He found amusement in your change to apathy, but deep inside he wanted to see those eyes again. Those eyes that looked at him like a God. Those e/c eyes that portrayed-

Desperation.

That’s right. He craved seeing the desperation in your eyes once more. And right now, he was bathing in it. You looked so fucking adorable like that. The cold, murderous Y/N choking on his cock, begging for air. He contemplated leaving you like this. Letting you suffocate on his cock. It’s the death a true slut like you deserved. But he wouldn’t be able to pet his little kitten anymore so he decided to let up.

With your hair imprisoned between his fingers, he jerked you away from his hips. You inhaled a strong amount of air, so much so you coughed at the copious amount of saliva that went down your wind pipe. But he shouldn’t let you get too comfortable, he needed his God complex to be fulfilled once more.

So before you could even get 3 full breaths in, Dabi quickly shoved his cock down your esophagus once more. Your desperation to breathe made the walls of your throat convulse rapidly around his cock. He moved your head vigorously back and forth down his length.

“Oh fuck, kitten...you look- you look so fucking good chocking on my cock like that...”

You whined at his voice, not exactly knowing what he said because you were too concerned with not dying the most embarrassing death.

The vibrations of your whine rumbled beautifully around his shaft.“You d-don’t actually wanna stop, do you? Y-you want to die on my cock don’t you, kitten.” He moved his hips at an insane amount of speed, now chasing his orgasm. “I’ll grant that to you…just hold on. Y-You can choke on all this fucking cum, Y/N!”

Before long you felt hot spurts of thick liquid running down your throat. You coughed viciously around his cock, trying not to choke on his seed. Your coughing making his cock twitch even more as he released his seed down your pulsating windpipe. You grabbed desperately at his shirt, trying to get him to spare you.

Once he was properly drained, he jerked your head off him with enough force for you to fall back on the couch. You violently tried to cough up whatever of his thick cum that you could. You’d probably feel lumps of it in your throat for days.

“*cough!* *cough!* D-dabi! You f-fucking *cough!* psychopath!” You looked angrily at him as your hands pressed tightly to your chest as you kept choking and gasping for air.

“I’m sorry, kitten. You just looked so cute with your throat gagging around my cock like that.” Dabi slopped back down on the couch. Now in better view of your body, he couldn’t help noticing your glistening pussy, shining with arousal.  He cackled at your shameless masochism. “Apparently you agreed.”

“What- Hey, wait!” Dabi grabbed a hold of your thighs and pulled you so that your pussy was aligned with his cock. “Again?!”

“If there’s one thing that I can appreciate with my bloodline, kitten, it’s our insatiable urge to spill our fertile seed into available holes.” He rubbed his tip along your folds, gathering your wetness, before slapping it on your clit. The feeling making your pussy twitch on the head of his cock. You shut your eyes, not believing how much you craved for him to be inside you.

Dabi took your jaw into a tight grip and your face clenched at the pressure. “Open your eyes, Y/N”.

Slowly opening them, you peered into a gleaming light of blue. You never really took notice of his eyes before, but for some reason they were reminding you of your past. The nostalgia quickly vanished as quickly as they came as your desires overflooded your mind.

Why was he looking at you like this? Wasn’t he going to stick it in? You hated to admit that you started to get-

“That’s it, kitten…that’s the look I want.” He took other hand to slowly press the tip of his cock inside you. “You’re desperate for it aren’t you?”

You grabbed at his pants, pulling so that you could get him fill you up entirely . “Yeah..I am”.

Grinning at your lewd acceptance, he inserted the entirety of his cock inside you. The tightness of this being your pussy’s first cock made him feel even more in power. He was the only one that could make you so desperate. The only one that could give you what you needed. And he’d prove that to you right now.

Your moans at the feeling of Dabi inside you were cut short when he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Let’s keep playing, kitten.”

Your face went from being pleasured to startled as he tightened the grip at your throat. At the same time, he began to plunge deeply in and out your rigid walls. The heat from his hands stung at your throat and you became intoxicated with the mix of sensations. You didn’t know which feeling overpowered which between pleasure and pain, so you just focused on the azure of Dabi’s eyes and let your body do the thinking.

“I s-should’ve fucking claimed you- a long time ago, Y/N.”  Dabi took his free hand down to your clit and made slow but heated circles around the bud. “I’m the only one who can get you so desperate-“. Your walls twitched as you tried to gasp for oxygen. Failing, as Dabi only continued to suffocate you beneath his heated palms. “And I’m the only one who can satisfy that desperation.” Your pussy hysterically quivered around Dabi as your lack of oxygen prevailed and your orgasm approached.

“I can feel you about to cum, Y/N.” His thrusts becoming frantic as he neared his second high. “Say my fucking name…call me your God.”

He needed to hear you say it. After-all he was the one who was clearly in control of your life and death. He was the one who captured you and gave you the bare minimum amount of food to keep you live. He was the one who convinced Shigaraki to not turn you into a grave of ashes when your precious heroes left you to die. And he was the one right now keeping you on the verge of the plane between this world and the spirit one.

He was your God.

Dabi slightly loosened the grip on your throat.

“G-god…D..abi-..sa-ma…”

He tightened around your throat again, satisfied at your new-found faith. You felt yourself practically about to drift out of consciousness, the once again suspension of your air supply having you see faint stars around Dabi’s head.

The tight pressure in your stomach became unbearable and your body was overwhelmed at the two opposing forces that claimed you. The life of an orgasm, and the death of asphyxiation. You supposed the orgasm would come first as you squirmed and contorted like a fish underneath Dabi’s hands. If this was how you’re gonna die, at least it was while chasing the most intense pleasure life had to offer to humans.  

Your seemingly lifeless face paired with the lively palpitations of your pussy was sending Dabi over the edge. “Y/N…Shit! Y-your face says you’re dead…but y-your pussy is still fucking fighting…Fuck!” As he finally came for the second time, he released his milky fluids inside you. If you were conscious, you’d probably note how the cum spurting in your womb wasn’t as thick as the lumps that still nestled along the walls of your esophagus.

Finally releasing his hold on you, Dabi slumped on top of your motionless body.

“…Still breathing huh, kitten..”

Letting himself fall into a slumber, a whirlwind of thoughts encapsulated his mind.

He thought about how the allowing of your freedom to officially join the League of Villains might’ve been a mistake. You being free didn’t suit you.

No.

You’d go back in the cell. Where you’d pray to him to let you out…or to simply give you water.

Every time you’d be allowed the blessing of seeing his face, you’d be desperate for him to not leave.

To stay with you.

But he’d walk out your cell again for who knows how long…just to hear your desperate wails and begging as he locked the cell door again.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack: Sing My Song

Part Two

Summary- 7.5k Steve Rogers x You. Having you back makes the Alpha very happy, and has a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Which you don’t have any issues with that. Shuri continues her work with you, and making progress everyday, enough so Steve hopes to take you on a run through Wakanda. Bucky and his team are drawing in on Brock, but will they be able to take out the ex Alpha and his bitch for good? Warnings- Smut and Violence. Divider made by @firefly-graphics​

A/N- Im breaking this into 2 parts. Its long and I feel like its just a lot to handle all to once. So next chapter will be posted soon. As always, Thank you for sticking with me and The Pack, I hope you all enjoy. As always feedback and your thoughts are encouraged, I’m always open to hearing what you all think and would like to see for them in the future. Happy Reading 🐺❤️

Part One / Chapter 8 / Masterlist

Brock did nothing to fight back or defend himself. His eyes glittered malicious at Bucky, baring his teeth at Bucky. 

“Cassandra really had NO idea what you were. You were just such a good fuck and easy listener Barnes. You should have heard her screams when we showed her what you were, what we were.” Brock taunted, making Bucky recoil slightly hearing him.

Brock's taunts gave Alanna enough time to shift out of Bucky’s sight, for her to slink around the room and low to the ground and start to approach the White Wolf from behind. In Bucky’s mind the White Wolf paced, wanting to rip out Brock’s throat, lap at the hot spurts of blood that would spray. But then he noticed the silence, his ears flicking around but he heard nothing. 

<Where's the bitch?> the White Wolf snarled out.

 Bucky started to turn enough to see a rush of tawny fur leaping at him, and he spun to kick out, catching the Wolf in the ribs and sending her flying back. But it was enough for Brock to knock the blade from Bucky’s hand, and push him back to get out of the corner. He was hitting Bucky in enough different places that it was leaving Bucky too disoriented and a collar got shoved around his neck from behind. Bucky heaved his shoulders to dislodge whoever had come up from behind, and he sent Wanda sprawling against the floor. 

Brock was quick to back off once that collar went on him, barking out at Wanda who was just getting up to go for Bucky once more. “GIve it a rest, witch. We got him now.” Wanda subdued herself once more, that vacant look melding into something new, something controlled. 

“Wanda, you can fight this.” Bucky's hands went up to the collar tight around his neck, growling in anger and frustration, but doing his best to keep it together. Brock gave an amused laugh as Wanda continued to ignore Bucky. 

Alanna whined as she moved to a stand and shook herself out, not too injured from being kicked and started to shift back and get dressed once more. From the stairs, Pietro sent Clint tumbling down to land in a pile at the landing, unconscious now from whatever the twins had done to him upstairs. Bucky's fingers curled around the collar, trying to figure out how to get this particular one off. It wasn't metal like the one Pierce had used on him, no secret button to press. This was supple leather, molding around his neck like it was a part of him, thin, almost unnoticeable. He tried wrenching the leather against his neck to make it snap , but the leather never gave, and neither did the clasp holding it in place. 

“Don't even bother Barnes. That isn't like Pierce's contraptions. These are the real deal, you are ours now Bucky. You and your friends too. Teper' tvoya moya sobaka.” Your our dog now

“What the-” the man clammed up, Bucky and the White Wolf being pulled out of control of his body, and his eyes snapped from their usual friendly blues into cold steel. 

“Ahh, that's better.” Rumlow circled Bucky, leaning in close. “You will no longer answer to Steve Rogers, although I’m not sure why you ever did. You had the power to take the Pack from him. You now listen to me, Soldat.” Bucky stiffened more, and he too fell into the spell that the rest had. 

After Natasha left with Stark's Jet, Steve was able to borrow a jeep and took you out for the rest of the morning into one of the nearby markets. Once he parked the jeep, the two of you started down an open market lane. You and Steve were sure to pause and admire the carts of bright beautiful items Wakandians made for sale. Steve watched how you would pick up little trinkets made of the Beli wood and would sit the little trinkets to balance on your palm. Steve noticed you favored the animal shapes, little tree frog mid croak, then an elephant with its trunk curled over its head, one of a sitting  hyena pair, and a parrot that had spread wings like in flight. But the one you kept picking up was a little panther one that matched the cliff face carving that could be seen from the balcony of the room you shared. Curling your finger along its back before you set it down, you hummed happily as you wandered to the next merchants stall. Steve though stalled, watching you pick up a couple of scarfs, their colors vivid as you twisted to hold them up to the sunlight, the color seeming to meld on your face, lighting your eyes a whole new color. 

When you had stepped away, Steve picked up the small carved Panther, and subtly paid for it. Once it was handed back to him, he slipped it in his slacks out of sight when you came back to him, holding up a few scarfs. “I think I'm going to get these for Wanda, Sara and Natasha.” 

“They would like them, but what about one for you?” He asked, his hand moving to rest in the small of your back while you both went back into the stall to look.

You glanced at the colors, and then there was one that reminded you of your Alphas eyes that happened to catch your sight. It was a streak of blue and yellow and you picked it up to add to the arrangement you made. Handing it to the merchants owner, you gave a shy thank you. Steve wrapped an arm around you as the two of you continued down, and Steve happened to pause at another booth, overlooking some blades that had a unique sheen to them. As soon as Steve touched one, he was intrigued. The weight felt like it was made just for him, and he let his thumb trail barely along the edge of them. He was surprised with the immediate red beads of blood following along the barely there cut. “What are these made of?” 

“Vibranium sir. Each blade will fit to its owner's needs. The weight will change, absorb energy, be lethal to any target. These blades will never grow dull with use. I wouldn't normally sell these to any visitors, but guests of the Kings, feel free to choose from what I have to offer.” His hand swept over the collection, and you were fascinated watching Steve go through them. He obviously had a few people in mind as he set more aside to purchase, right along with several lethal looking arrowheads. 

The rest of the morning the two of you shared bites of food from samples offered, you would laugh at the occasional face Steve would make when he didn't care for the taste of something. Dropping his head to nip at your lips and growl against them that he prefers the taste of you instead. You glanced up at him and leaned up to your tiptoes, biting gentle on his jawline, before flowing to his ear. 

“I plan on finding out soon if you taste as good as you look.” 

Cerulean eyes widened as you sauntered away to where music was playing, your hips swaying back and forth, and joining in with others enjoying the music. 

<She got you that time.> The Alpha had a smirk to his tone, huffing with amusement at Steve's still shocked look. 

She gets me all the time, this time isn't anything new. 

When he finally reached where you were wandering while listening to the music, and engaged in several conversations with the Wakanda merchants. Steves wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your neck first. You arched your neck just a bit for him,  and he let his mouth linger against your temple, whispering just to you. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked as you watched some people weaving baskets nearby. The Wolf in him sighed in content when you nodded, and slid a hand under his shirt, pressing your hand against his back for the contact. “Yes, Alpha.” 

“We should probably get back, you still have a session with Shuri.” He didn't want to, but a glance at the time on the phone showed it was near noon and he wanted to eat lunch in the room before you two headed down for what he was hoping would be the final session for you with the Panther. You gave a soft nod, and he weaved his hand with yours, leading you back to the car. 

Driving back, it was a quick trip up to the room. The kitchen had already brought up a spread of crackers, fruit, cheese and some meats. In the heat the two of you shed your clothes, opting for something lighter and more airy before moving the tray out to the balcony, still in the shade, but able to enjoy the expansive view before you two. Pouring glasses of water, that Steve was sure to hand one to you while you leaned against the railing, looking over the view. 

“One day I would love to come back, if T’Challa would have us. Really explore.” There was so much they haven't seen, not with how tired you have been after your sessions with Shuri. 

“I'm sure we can Little One.” Steve rumbled, his sensitive to the light eyes squinting against the bright light. You nuzzled under his chin, and pulled him back into the shade to relieve him. Steve broke into a grin as he sat down, and wrapped an arm around your hip, pulling you into his lap. 

“With proper sunglasses next time, I promise.” He nipped at your shoulder affectionately, and you nodded, reaching forward for a piece of fruit, popping it between your teeth and chewing with a snort. 

“And all sorts of sunscreen. You burned a bit from that walk in the market this morning. There might be some aloe vera in the bathroom I can put on that for you.” Your fingers slide very gently along the back of his neck, where it has turned slightly red. Steve lifted his hand to feel the back of his neck, and sure enough there was a touch of heat.  

“Be gone in a couple days.” He assured you as he nipped against your jawline, rubbing a hand along your hip to steady you as you leaned for another piece of fruit from the bowl. Reaching for a piece of pineapple, you straightened and pressed it against his lips, so he would take it. 

“You know what they say about the pineapple, don't you?” You teased as you nibbled on a piece of cold cheese, smirking slightly. 

Steve's eyes shifted to yours, and you could see how your teasing was making them shine a bit more, as he tried to keep his voice as innocent as possible. 

Which really wasnt alot. 

“Oh something about tasting better?” He growled as his lips pressed to yours, pulling slightly on your lips before pulling away. You grinned when he did and nodded. 

“Mmhm, not sure what exactly? Maybe I will just have to take my time exploring to find out.” 

“You do that Little One.” He growled, even the Wolf started snickering at how the two of you were teasing one another. 

You nibbled your way along his bottom lip, the short hairs of his beard tickling you. A press of your tongue on the seam of his mouth asked for entrance, and when Steve opened to you, you were able to lap at the roof of his mouth, his own movements mimicking yours in that moment. You started humming at the sweetness the taste of fresh fruit left, his own tongue pressed against yours more demanding, wanting more of you. 

Hands started to match one another, yours cupped his face, and his braced against your back to arch you in closer to him. Sliding down his neck and to his chest, you started to tug at his shirt to lift in, needing to feel the spanse of his chest under your palms. All that power is just sitting there in your control. It was a head rush for you to know that the Alpha would do anything to keep you happy, and happily the favor was returned. Even though giving the bite scared you, if Steve really asked for it, you would allow him to mark you wherever he wanted his mark. 

Your fingers are curling against hard pecs, and burying in the dusting of hair, Steve’s grasped the curve of your waist and lifted you enough to straddle his lap, wanting you as close to him as possible . There was a growl against your mouth and Steve pulled away to place deep sucking marks against your neck. Your hips started shifting like they had a life of their own, grinding yourself against him for that friction his hard erection gave while straining to bury into your heat.

Steve craved the skin to skin contact, and his hands released you enough to reach over his shoulders to grasp his shirt and roughly pull it off. Yours too was in the way, grasping at the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head to drop it on the floor nearby. He marveled for a moment at the sight of you, and dropped his head to kiss the swells of the tops of your breasts in that similar way he was kissing on your neck earlier, your fingers clutched at him and a sigh escaped you at the coil he was building in your core. Fuck if he didnt have a hold on you, letting your body just lean into his hands, one pressing against the small of your back to hold you still while he removed your bra. Letting it fall to the ground, he nuzzled and kissed your breasts, bringing a nipple to his mouth, the hot lashing of his tongue, and pleased rumbled vibrating from his mouth through you to make you clench at the sensation. Your head fell back and lips parted to inhale deeply, sinking into the sensations of his hot lips and wet tongue teasing you while the brush of his beard brought its own tingling sensation. 

“You feel so good Alpha.” he heard you pant, and Steve bit down slightly before sucking you back into his mouth, his fingertips rolling over your other nipple before tugging it a bit, rolling and taunting till he could get his heated mouth over to draw you in, tease you till you were wriggling in his lap. He moaned again at the sweet taste of you. 

It was during all this his Wolf chose this moment to start calling your song, deep howls almost distracting him, you felt that bit of untamed wilderness in him when his body clenched, muscles tightening and rippling. 

Another roll of your hip ground you into his now aching, throbbing erection, and you pulled your hands away to work his pants open, reaching to take his cock out of the confines, and stroke him, palm him, run your fingertip over the head leaking precum. Steve growled and pressed his face into the softness of your breasts, before going back to kissing them, going back up your chest to find your mouth, growling against your panting mouth. “Get those shorts off.” 

There was no more thinking, or sense of you having to be anywhere in a certain amount of time as you scrambled off and started to tug the fabrics of your shorts and panties down, watching while Steve arched his hips to get more of his own pants down to give you room. It wasn't long till he was pulling you back to him, this time your knees found purchase in his chair and you reached between the two of you to press him against your aching entrance. Crying out as you started to bring yourself down over him. You knew that satisfied cry had to echo from your balcony, but you were beyond caring. 

A hunger for your Alpha over took you, and he was just as impatient as you because he lifted his hips to finish bringing you two together. 

“Fuck Y/N” his head dropped to bury back into your breasts, muffling the sounds of his groans as you flexed and clasped around him, whimpering yourself at how thick he felt at this angle, like it would split you to have him like this. But you were slick with need, and while he was still processing the intense feeling washing over him, being seated in you, and the damn Wolf howling over and over, you made the first move. Grasping his shoulders for leverage and arching up just enough to drag him through you, enough to sink back on him in a slow testing manner. “You're so damn tight.” Steve groaned against your skin. 

Riding Steve, you slid one arm around his neck, cradling against him. Your body knew what it wanted, and you let yourself go while he growled against you. He was back to kissing and nipping his marks into your skin while rocking his cock into your thrusts, meeting you with his own need to be inside of you, to feel you clenching him. “Just like that Little One, you are such a good girl to me.”  Your slick started to soak into his pants, the fabric friction burning against your thighs and cunt, but you wanted it and pressed a bit harder each time for that friction. 

Steve's hand flexed against the small of your back, dragging up to fist in your hair, wrapping it around his hand till he was able to pull your head back, swarmed with the desire to sink teeth into your neck and take you officially as his mate. You gasped when you felt the tug of hand dragging your head back, and he took over your movements.  His hand curled against your hip pulled you harder on his cock, scenting your neck and lapping over the pulse. You knew what he wanted, you could feel it with every angled thrust aiming to take you apart around him. 

He wanted to claim you as his, and you didn't want him to, not until your Little Wolf had returned. 

You whined out softly. “Not yet Alpha.” 

And that was enough, both Steve and the Wolf changed focus, turning soft nips into kisses, releasing your hair to dig fingers against your waist, and burying himself deeper, hitting that spot every time, and grinding your clit against him each time he filled you. It was enough to make your lower belly clench and your cunt flex and flutter around him. 

“Not until you're ready.” Steve promised as he claimed your mouth again, hissing against it. “Cum for me Little One, let me see you come apart.” 

Driving himself once more, snapping his hips up to bring you closer, a finger slipped between your bodies and pressing, rolling hard over your bundle of nerves to finish you. “Give it to me, your Alpha wants it.” he growled against your lips, sliding his tongue to fill yours, stroking and lapping at you till you started to squeeze him. Crying his name against the kiss, and eyes fluttering up to lose yourself in feeling anything but bliss. Steve gathered you close as his final thrusts sent him over the edge. He finished with the feeling of your cunt squeezing him tightly and milking him. It was just that much more incentive to brim you full with his cum. His balls tightened before his release and a burn in his belly snapped to crash you onto him, pumping himself deeper so you couldn’t forget that flood of warmth enveloping you. Whenever his knot would loosen and he could pull from you, there he would be dripping down your thighs, making him bury his head in against your shoulder with a groan, just thinking about it. Fuck how he loved that. Himself all over you, inside you. Everyone would be able to tell you were his. 

You felt Steve drift off in his own pleasure, his face buried in your shoulder and your nose traced his neck. You inhaled against his neck as his chest rose and fell against yours and you could feel his heart thumping wildly. Your fingers massaged against his upper back, and you leaned into Steve's chest humming softly in pleasure. 

“Thank you Steve.” brushing fingers through his hair, and you could feel him stir underneath you, lifting his head to press his lips against your temple, and leaning his forehead against yours with eyes still closed. 

“I promised you when you first found me that I wouldn't make you do anything you weren't ready for.” 

His hands stroked your back, and each scar his fingers slid over were no longer bringing memories of a time you fought to forget, but now they were now moments of touches and whispers in moments like these. Where both of you were coming back from the rush of being together. You arched into his touch and his hand flattened against the small of your back, pressing you into him harder, closing any space that might have been left between you two.  

The Wolf in Steve stirred, pushing once more to a stand and shaking out his fur after a few moments. His head cocked and ears perked as he was listening to something. Steve fully ignored him for now, still enjoying the post love making he just had with you.  

<She’s closer then before.> The Wolf's ears perked, picking up traces of your Little Wolf. The Wolf rumbled in anticipation of her arrival, and it passed through Steve and into you, making you press in closer against him. 

Call for her. 

The Alpha paced back and forth, listening for the Little Wolf till his head fell back and called your song once more. Steve hummed it himself while pressing his lips against your shoulder and in the hollow of your neck, lacing it in your skin and while you were relaxing from still coming down from your orgasm. 

You felt her, it was so subtle, a brush in your mind that you thought it would be nothing more then a glimpse once more. This time though it felt familiar as your own inner thoughts were, like before you were left all alone in your mind. First it was her soft sigh of content, like coming home after being away so long. Then the Little Wolf came from the very depths of your mind, each padding footfall bringing her closer to the front of your consciousness. 

Little Wolf, please tell me your back. 

She leaped into your mind with a graceful prance as she tilted her head back in the manner the Alpha had when Steve told him to call for her. She answered him with one of her own. 

<As if you could honestly could get rid of me.> She brushed up against your mind, feelings of warmth and affection radiating, and you straightened up suddenly in Steve’s hold. 

“Steve, she's back! She’s back, It worked!” You cried out, grasping his face and overwhelmed with emotion, you poured all what you were feeling into a kiss. Momentarily surprised, Steve was quick to tilt into it, inhaling your joy, relief and passion. When you pulled away, he grasped your own face, covering it in his own brush of his lips, a wide grin on his face. 

“I knew you could bring her back Little One, it was a matter of time.” He praised and you lifted your hands to cover his own, weaving fingers through his. 

“Not without Shuri, T’Challa, Natasha… You. I felt your Wolf, You.” You didn't know how to explain it, that connection you felt with him was what kept your Little Wolf searching for her way back. Steve’s brows lifted, searching your expression a moment, and let the corner of his mouth lift in a quirk of a smile. 

“Don't sell yourself short Little One.” He nudged his nose against yours gently and wiggled his brows. “Think we should go tell Shuri that you won't be needing her work on you anymore?” 

You bit your lip excitedly and nodded, in which he grasped your waist and was careful to help you pull off him and to a stand, moaning as he looked you up and down. “You also need to get dressed again. As well as drink some water.” 

You already were downing the glass on the table, giving him a snort as you set it down. The Little Wolf huffing in laughter at the Alphas bossiness. 

“You to Alpha, I wasn't the only one huffing and puffing earlier.” You poured him another glass and handed it to him before passing him to go get dressed, looking over your shoulder. “Are you going to let me keep these clothes on?” 

Steve drained the glass himself and worked on zipping his pants back up, following you inside, while leaning against the frame of the opening to the balcony. 

“Depends, The Big Bad Wolf is still hungry.” he smirked as you pulled a shirt over your head, wide eyed as you head poked through. 

“Steve Rogers, you really are an animal!” You huffed out happily. When Steve approached you, your hand smoothed against his chest and his arm came around you protectively. 

“I've never denied it, have I?” Biting your shoulder softly in play before he let you go, you both finished getting dressed and left the room to head down to Shuris lab. When they arrived, the woman had everything set up and Steve gave your shoulder a light squeeze of encouragement. 

“So I'm really hoping today Y/N that your wolf comes back with a bang.” Shuri said almost distracted, tapping on the tablet she was using. 

<Ha! I did come in after a bang!> The Little Wolf grinned with a swipe of her tongue around her muzzle. 

I think you planned it like that. 

<Maybe I did. I see now that I’m back you're not so shy around the Alpha. Straddling him while on a balcony in the middle of the day. Almost like… your back in heat.> She snickered. 

Shut up. You know I'm not. It was a lot quieter when you were MIA.

The Little Wolf huffed in laughter, settling down to let you focus. 

I’m actually so fucking happy your back. You confessed to her and the Little Wolf whined in agreement, happiness radiating through you. 

“Actually, she did. She came back just a little while ago. You did it Shuri. She's back.” 

Shuri gave an excited squeal, Steve momentarily tightening his arm around you in surprise before letting you go to meet the Princess. 

“I knew she would be back.” Raising her hand and you gave her a high five once you realized what she wanted. “Just a bit of some rewiring and bam. Good as new. You don't mind if I take a sneaky peek?” 

You shook your head no, and willingly got on the table, letting her pull up an image of the inside of your mind. Steve watched from nearby, admiring the way little sparks were doubled what they were before, an obvious sign that your Little Wolf was active. 

He did have a couple questions though. “Was it just the work you've been doing to bring her back.” Hoping for an answer that would prove to you that you called her back. 

“Some of it, but I genuinely believe that with time Y/N would have fixed this on her own. Just taken some time. I can't say for sure, as overuse of the herb isn't common. Honestly, I think once she felt at ease again, happy and content, safe. It was enough to bring the wolf back.” Shuri recorded images and took your hand to help you back up. Making you ponder on what she had said, glancing at Steve. 

Steve looked rather proud of you, and piped up once more. “Last question. She's back right, for good? No in and out disappearing on Y/N anymore?” 

You gave a stretch as you stood, curious now to Shuri’s answer, who prominently shook her head. “She's back where she wants to be. All those little electric waves, ones of content. She won't be disappearing again unless someone shoots you with a dose like that again.” 

“Yeah, that will not be happening. Fuck that time was more then enough for me.” You tuck back into Steve’s side, shaking your head firmly and the Little Wolf mimicked the action. 

Steve growled as well. “I'm seconding that, I’m bringing Y/N home, might never leave Pack Lands again.” 

Shuri laughed, folding her arms. “Right, just like T’Challa thinks I’m never leaving.” 

“Ha, you arent. I need my number one scientist here doing her work.” T’Challa strode in, nodding to the Wolves before arching a brow in surprise. “Starting late today?” 

“Actually Brother, we’ve done it. Y/N Wolf is back and just as strong as ever.” 

The King's expression widened, and he turned towards the two of them. 

“That is fantastic news Y/N!” Taking your hand, he enclosed it in both of his before lifting your knuckles to brush his lips against them. “I suppose I should set you both up for transportation home?” 

Steve looked down at you as he spoke. “Tomorrow morning perhaps? If Y/N is up for it, I would like to take her out for a run, if your offer still stands?” 

T’Challa nodded with a smile. “Of course Alpha, I wish it was a full moon but you two can go anywhere within’ Wakandas borders.” 

You couldn't help but feel excitement at the idea of a night run with Steve through Wakanda. 

Resting the remainder of that day in your rooms, You and Steve were lazy lovers passing the time, mostly talking about how good it would be to be home, as well as how you both wanted to stay a bit longer. A light dinner, and then when night started to fall, you both made your way down to the palace entrance to find T’Challa and Shuri waiting, offering to show you two around a bit. Steve’s hand rubbed against your back, kissing your shoulder while whispering. “Are you up for this Little One?” 

“More than you know Steve.” You stated while stepping away from Steve, shedding your clothing. The Alpha kept you blocked from anyone else while doing the same motions, and it was rather quick you had shifted into your Little Wolf, shaking your fur out and twisting to meet up with the Alpha, which he twined around you as well in greeting. His muzzle pressing against your ruff, and long swipes of a pink tongue cleaned your face, your ears, dragging down your neck while you nibbled back in his fur, rubbing against him momentarily. It was a joyful reunion for the Wolves as well as you and both of you started to play with one another until the two Panthers joined you with graceful fluid like bounds. They gave loud purrs as the two felines head butted each other and bright yellow eyes turned to the Wolves, flicking the tips of their tails, and rolling forward in the fluid way only cats can achieve. They ended up disappearing down the trail leading away from the palace, and the jungle started to come to life with the sound of monkeys giving out warning shrieks that the panthers were back in their domain. 

Your ears were perked after them, and you pushed to leap forward, Steve following right behind as you ducked into the heavy jungle foliage. 

Leaves slapped at the Alpha, making him growl and snap at the heavy foliage, missing the northern pine forests of home. But it started to thin, and he caught up to you as you slowed down, your head swiveling back and forth, inhaling for the panthers. Steve brushed up alongside of you, lifting his muzzle to locate the Panthers, when he caught sight of shadows moving in the jungle canopy. A loud roar made you tilt up as well, ear perked as the smaller of the two started dropping down till she came sailing through the air and landing lightly, she pawed gently at You, enticing you into a playful chase. You immediately sprinted for Steve’s side, and he settled in. Steve watched his Little Wolf and the Panther chase one another around vine covered trees and dart under giant leaves dripping water. First You would be on Shuris side, nipping at her shoulder when she would spin nimbly and tackle you till you raced with a quick burst, outpacing the Panther, back and forth you two twisted and turned to get away from the other. 

T’Challa jumped down alongside Steve, kneading the ground before sinking down, flicking his tail back and forth, watching as well. The Alphas head moved back and forth, never breaking eye contact, and when the two of you faced off, you growled and Shuri roared back at you, testing each other.

It alarmed the Alpha, who moved to get up, and T’Challa beat him to it, giving his own sharp roar calling his sister back when he sensed the Alpha next to him getting uneasy. Shuri snarled back at him, headbutting You in a goodbye before leaping back up into the canopy. The King bowed his head to the Alpha before joining his sister. Leaving the two of you alone. 

You sensed your Alphas unease at the moment, and you padded up to him, brushing up under his chin and nibbling at him to settle him back down. But he nudged at you, pushing you down the path you two had been exploring earlier, ready to keep you two moving. You both fell in an easy stride together this time as the jungle floor opened up, mossy and green. Everything seemed to cool off under the canopy, both the wolves comfortable. Little animals scattered, insects buzzing around with bright colors, that were a constant interest to you as you would snap at them and send them flying again to escape. Soon the Jungle gave way to tall grass, and the sound of animals surrounded you in the dark. 

Keeping close to your Alpha, you both ran up on a herd of elephants, their long trunks reaching out as you both stretched your necks, sniffing at them before leaping away when they tried to touch you. When one stomped her foot in warning, Steve had enough, and steered you away from the herd. Weaving back and forth through the grass, you both skirted low to the ground past Rhinos grazing, lifting their heads to watch you both pass by. Neither of you wanted to feel the edge of that horn, so decided to give a wider circle around. Steve was sure to keep himself between You and the massive beasts. They came up on leaping gazelles racing away from them, and both of you couldnt help but give chase to these. You both gave up after a few minutes, the deer like creatures much faster than you two could ever be, even Sam and Pietro would have a hard time pacing along with them. Once it was apparent neither of you were continuing, they set back to grazing. 

There was only one part of the run that turned Steve uneasy. They happened to stumble across a pack of Hyenas scavenging a carcass, and they all took interest in your unique scent. Their laughter echoing around the wolves in a menacing way. Steve nudged at you to lead you away from them when one skirted close to snap its jaws and push you two to back up. Steve turned on the pack of wild Hyenas, stepping over the carcass and started to descend on the two of you. Steve snarled deeply, the fur along his spine raising and his ruff bristling, turning his focus on the Hyenas Alpha Female as she stalked closer. Steve's fangs flashed in the dark, and his demands made her cower in surprise at the force coming from him. The rest of her pack stalling seeing their Alpha lower before him, to a male most of all. The laughter started to grow high pitched with unease at the situation. You ducked around the bristling Alpha, ears pinned back, rumbling back at her. The Hyena sensed they weren't just ordinary animals to be chased off. Wet dragging breaths overcame the scent of blood and decay from the carcass she had been feasting on, filling her lungs with ice cold sensations, unlike anything her kind had experienced before. They were similar to the Panthers that prowled their lands, except they weren't. Missing from the shifters was the muskiness of the jungle. Their scent was sharper, it stung her nose with a cold sensation. Even their bodies were not made for streaking across the sun soaked plains or traveling in heavy leaf cover. Too big, too much fur, muzzles long with fangs, yet not made to rip into thick animal hides like theirs was. They were just too different, and she didn't want to test what they would do to her. Shaking her head to clear their scent from her senses, she started sinking further back from the growling Alpha’s reach. Her laughing bark sent the wild hyenas scattering away, breaking their attack formation. Retreating back towards the carcass, once they fell back, she skirted away, out of Steve’s sight. 

Once she was gone, you brushed against Steve to ease him back to you, and the two of you turned away from where the hyenas were cackling out of sight, fighting once more among themselves over the carcass they had claimed. You headed back towards the jungle, avoiding the rest of the plains occupants. Which Steve was relieved, another reason for them to return home. At home, the forests belonged to them. There were no worries in what was lurking out of sight. In Wakanda it was all different, they were not the beast at the very top. Deciding it was enough for you both tonight, when you gave a wide mouthed, fang flashing yawn, you both returned to the palace, and made it up to your room. 

Once inside and the door closed, Steve backed you onto the bed, and settled over you, covering you in soft bites and whispered words pressed against your skin. “Are you tired Little One?” he let his tongue drag between your breasts while he lowered down your body slightly. Your hands roamed over his back, and rubbed the back of his neck while you arched into his mouth where he sucked a nipple into his warmth, lashing his tongue over the peak and then rolling you gently between his teeth. 

You hummed in satisfaction, letting your body roll underneath his while you turned your gaze down at Steve loving on your breasts, his hand had the other covered, kneading it lightly and using his thumb to tease the tip till it hardened. “Not too tired Alpha.” you admitted and he lifted his head with a grin. Leaning up to kiss you deeply while using a hand to spread your thighs open, in which you curled your legs around his waist. 

“That's good, cause I haven't stopped thinking about you wrapped around me like this all evening.” He said while he claimed you with a roll of his hips, filling you with him as his hands weaved with yours. It was soft and slow, taking his time to bring you to the point you were pleading softly against his shoulder for a release. Steve’s hand cupped the back of your head while kissing your temple, his hips starting to move faster in and out of you with a grunt of effort. It was quick when your pussy started to squeeze him and milk him, ready for his knot to lock you to him. Steve brought  you to the point of howling his name and clutching yourself around him, clinging to him and not able to let go. You settled on his chest, and let the silence bring a sense of calm and peace over both of you. When you two finally fell asleep, you were sprawled over his chest and sated. There was no need for words to end the day together. 

The dawn came to find you two still tangled around one another. 

T’Challa, Shuri and the Queen all waited for the two of you, the jet ready to be boarded. It was a teary goodbye for you and Shuri, growing rather close to the young woman in your time here, Steve firmly shook T’Challas hand with a thank you and bowed to the Queen. You let your hand slide up Steves' back as he rose once more, and you let your head lower, a flash of the back of your neck showing her your respect. 

“Thank you, everyone for your help. Should you ever need anything from us, please let us know. My Pack, and myself especially are indebted to you.” Steve said truthfully, and T’Challa smiled. 

“I'm sure we will see each other again Alpha, Y/N, have a safe travel home. Steve, I'm sure you are familiar with flying?” 

“Of course, we will have it sent back as soon as possible.” 

“That is all I ask.”

Finishing with goodbyes, you both stepped on the jet. You couldn't help the look of awe that slid over your face while Steve immediately fell into the Pilots chair, while you buckled into the co pilots. You watched as he leaned forward to flick on switches and the engine hummed to life. “Ready for home Little One?” He asked as his hands settled on the steering column. 

You wriggled in your seat and leaned in the window waving while speaking. “Absolutely, take us home Alpha.” 

When Steve heard what he wanted to har, he shifted the column, and the jet started lifting off. You squealed a bit as your heart went into your throat, laughing at the sensation. Steve grinned over at your reaction, taking your hand while he pointed the jet in the direction needed, and let it speed up. The flight home was filled with you questioning the dash of the aircraft, and Steve doing his best to teach you how it all worked. 

Of course T’Challa didn't send you all home empty handed, and once Steve landed the Jet just outside of the compound, and all the Pack came to greet Steve, you happened to stay inside a few more minutes. Exploring further, you happened to stumble on several crates in the back. “Steve? Come look at this.” 

Ducking his head back in, Steve went to find you, and located you kneeling next to one of the crates, trying to find how it opened. Steve was quick to pry open a top, and it was just filled with different items Wakanda specialized in. “Hey Sam, get some people up here, we come bearing gifts.” 

Fruity wine, dried food, clothing, weapons, if T’Challa could send it he did, and the rest of the afternoon was sorting through it together. 

Finally that evening found you pouring a glass of the wine for Sara at the island in Steve’s kitchen, telling Sara and Sam all about Wakanda. Steve now and then piped up, filling in the time you were unconscious to the world.

Once the questions died down, you cleared your throat. “Has anyone heard from Bucky, Clint, Wanda, and Pietro?” 

Sara sipped from her wine glass and shook her head, Sam at her side did the same motion. “Nothing yet. But Natasha was right out on their trail as soon as she got back. You know she wont stop till she finds something.” 

Steve poured himself a taste of the wine, and handed it to you afterwards to finish off. “She will probably check in a few days, let us know what's going on.” Glancing at the time and then outside, he nipped at your shoulder. “Ready for the Full Moon Run Little One?” 

You tipped your head back to drain the last swallow and set the glass down, hoping off the stool at the bar. 

“Yup, we will see you two out there.” You said to Sam and Sara, who waved you two off to give you a chance to shift in private. Racing out the door, you leaped off the porch, twisting on your toes to watch Steve, who paused to shed his shirt, grinning to himself at your enthusiasm. 

<We got lucky.> Your Little Wolf crooned, admiring the Alphas fit form as he started to stalk towards you, undoing his belt to slide out of the pants. 

That we did. 

You started to shed clothes, dancing just out of his reach till you started to run away, tossing your panties at him last before you fell into your wolf form, howling at him to hurry up. Steve made a show of inhaling against them before stuffing them in the back of his jeans pocket, quick to yank them off and toss them back towards his porch while you sprinted away, howling for him to come join you

<Welcome Home Steve. Now let's go get her before she is gone!> 

Welcome Home indeed. 

He shifted and paused at the tree line, his howl bursting through the night, signaling the start of the run, and he followed after You while you weaved among the trees, leading him deeper into their running grounds, back home where they belonged. 

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (17/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I told you it wouldn’t take as long to get this one up! And to everyone messaging about Walking the Baseline, I have started writing the next part! ❤️

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 

-/-

The swan is staring at her.

It is legitimately staring at her from its spot on her dresser with its beady little black marble eyes. For weeks, Emma has thought it was cute, has treasured its presence in her room. It’s the only thing anyone has ever won for her, which seems miniscule, but when you don’t have a lot, it’s a big freaking deal. That night had been awful, her heart warring with her over Neal and his presence at the fair, but then she had this dumb stuffed animal to hold onto – and squeeze onto instead of slapping Neal, if she’s honest. Killian had won it for her to make her happy, even if just for a little while, and while she hadn’t realized her feelings for him in that moment, she should have.

Anyone who plays rigged carnival games to make someone happy is probably a good person, and Killian Jones is definitely a good person.

A good person who was (is, hopefully) her friend who she then started fucking who then ended that, and now she sits in her room in the dark at seven in the morning staring at a stuffed swan.

What a weird thought process.

What a weird relationship.

What a weird couple months.

When Emma looks back on it, she can’t believe this is how her life has been lately. She ended a half-decade long relationship, had her heart shattered into pieces, and then she made the stupid decision to be friends with benefits with the last person she should have done that with. Who even does shit like that?

She does, apparently.

But the night of Liam and Elsa’s engagement party, she was tipsy and upset and needed to forget the pain. Killian seemed like the perfect person to do that with, especially knowing how easily he does casual relationships. As she now knows, having a casual relationship and having a casual relationship with Killian Jones are two different things.

At least when you’re her.

Now, though, she doesn’t know what relationship she has with Killian. They’re friends, always have been, but things have been…different since they stopped sleeping together. They don’t text as much, they certainly don’t hang out like they used to, and when they do, things are stiff. The conversations don’t flow, arguments fly more freely, and Emma has no idea what to do about any of it. She’s tried not to think about any of it and pretend that everything is fine, but then moments like this hit and it’s impossible. Liam and Elsa are getting married tomorrow, have their rehearsal dinner tonight, and Emma and Killian have to spend time together.

They’re going as each other’s dates.

And she feels like such a cliché at the end of a romantic comedy where people are being forced to gather at a wedding with romance everywhere, where she mopes around waiting for things to get better. That’s not real life, though. Some floral arrangements and twinkly lights do not solve relationship problems, especially when you’re not in a relationship to begin with.

Especially when the other person wants nothing to do with you.

Emma sighs and flops onto her mattress, pulling a pillow over her mouth and loudly groaning into it. She’s pathetic. This is why she hasn’t allowed herself to have any free time since the weekend in the mountains. She’s stayed busy, throwing herself into work and her runs. She’s even read the stack of books that’s been on her nightstand for months, but mostly she’s made sure to be surrounded by friends, even if that does include Killian. David and Mary Margaret, bless them and their inability to read the room, have continuously brought Graham around thinking Emma is open to dating him. She’s not. He’s a sweet man she gets along with and in another world, she might consider dating him. It’s not another world, however, and she doesn’t want to date Graham Humbert.

All she wants is Killian like the pathetic woman she is.

And for the freaking stuffed swan to stop staring at her.

After screaming into her pillow once more and kicking her legs up and down like a petulant child, Emma throws the pillows off of her and shifts from underneath her comforter. Begrudgingly, she stretches her arms above her head, her muscles aching from overuse, and she walks to her bathroom. Slowly but surely, she gets ready, spending extra time washing her hair and shaving while her phone plays music loud enough for her to sing along to. Once she feels alive again, she steps out of the shower, pulling her hair into a towel and walking to her vanity. She brushes her teeth and does her makeup, going ahead and applying the smoky eye she wants to wear tonight. She’ll look ridiculous until the sun sets, but she’s not coming home in between work and the rehearsal and doesn’t want to pack her full makeup kit. It’s the same reason she blows her hair out and curls it before pulling on a black jumpsuit. She’s had it for years, but never had a chance to wear it. It hugs her curves and flares out at the legs. There’s a cutout on her stomach and the cleavage dips, and to cover that up so she doesn’t get fired, she pulls a cropped sweater on top. An hour later, she leaves her apartment and drives through Storybrooke to get to the club.

This is just another day. Emma can make it through.

She’s made it through every bad day so far, most of them a hell of a lot worse than having to eat dinner with Killian Jones by her side.

With Labor Day over and summer beginning to fade away, tourists have fled from Storybrooke and returned to their normal lives. The beaches are empty, the restaurants barely occupied, and Storybrooke Country Club is only frequented by members who either live in the area or who avoid the main summer rush. Walking the hallways alone is odd after spending months not having a moment to herself, and since there’s no one around, Emma takes off her heels and walks down the hallway barefoot. There’s a luncheon in one of their smaller dining rooms, so Emma checks to make sure the linens and the menu are still correct from when she checked last night, and once she’s sure they are, she moves to their nicest ballroom where Liam and Elsa are having their reception tomorrow. They were going to have the ceremony inside as well, but since the weather looks like it’s going to be nice, they’re having it on the deck with the ocean in the background.

She thinks most of this place is stuffy and stuck-up, but she does love this ballroom. The windows are large and look out to the ocean, and if they open the doors, it connects to the expansive deck with string lights hanging over the ceiling. Tomorrow, when the sun sets and those lights are turned on along with the lights inside, everything will be cast in a magic glow. Emma looks around at the chairs lining the sides of the walls and the tables out, and she sighs. Someone was supposed to put everything out, and after calling around and finding no one, Emma starts arranging the tables and chairs herself. It takes her hours, especially when she starts putting out linens and setting the tables, and while florists won’t come in until tomorrow, she marks the places for the arrangements to be set. She nearly calls Mary Margaret and asks her to come in on her day off, but she likes being busy. It keeps her mind off things.

Too soon, though, she’s set up everything she can, and the cooks have started prep work for tonight’s dinner. Emma catches a look at herself in the mirror, sees where some of her makeup has run and her curls have fallen, and she grabs her work makeup bag out of her office and moves to the bathroom where she reapplies her powder and lipstick and brushes through her hair before pulling it into a high ponytail.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

“Tonight is going to be fine,” Emma tells herself, rolling her arms to relax her sore muscles and calm herself down. “It’s just like it always is. It’s spending time with your friends but in nice clothes, and you just have to get through a weekend without fighting.”

Emma stops rolling her shoulders and leans forward, fingers curling around the sink top. “Great, Emma. Now you’re having full on conversations with yourself in the mirror.”

Inhale, exhale.

She’s got this. She has to.

Emma looks at herself one more time, does a final adjustment on her ponytail, grabs her bag and walks out of the bathroom with her shoulders back. She sits through more weddings than any normal person should, and this is a weekend to celebrate someone she loves. It’s a happy moment.

Until she walks out of the bathroom, her limbs still shaky, and nearly plows down the bride and groom.

That would definitely get her fired, and she doesn’t think her year could take losing her job too.

“Hi,” she squeaks out, stumbling over her heels before correcting herself. “How are you two? Elsa, you look beautiful.”

“Oi, what about me?” Liam jokes, and Emma awkwardly giggles, still trying to catch up. She needs a reset of today.

“You look stunning,” Emma laughs, quickly hugging Elsa before doing the same to Liam. “Are you guys excited for tomorrow?”

“You have no idea,” Elsa sighs, happy, content, so many things that brides should be but rarely are. “Thank you so much for setting everything up. I know you’ve been by yourself with Mary Margaret taking the day off to do things with us, so I really, really appreciate you.”

“I’m happy to do it for you guys. Promise.” Emma squeezes Elsa’s forearm. “If you were anyone else, I would complain.”

“Well, you know how to make a girl feel special, but I have a feeling you won’t say the same thing when Anna shows up in a few minutes.”

“I have already mentally prepared myself for it.”

Elsa looks down at her phone. “Speak of the devil,” she laughs, holding up her phone. “I’m gonna step away and take this.”

Elsa moves down the hallway, heels clicking against the tile, and Emma is left alone with Liam, the two of them swaying back and forth, eyes never making direct eye connect. She doesn’t know the last time she spent time alone with this man, and at the moment, she can’t think of them ever spending time alone together. They’re not friends, have only started getting along recently weirdly enough, but they always have Elsa or Killian to be the buffer.

There’s no buffer now.

Emma tries to think of something to say, works through a conversation about the weather and the wedding and tonight’s menu in her head, but she never says any of it out loud. Instead, she laughs awkwardly and smiles, wondering how shitty it would be to excuse herself from the room when she doesn’t have an actual excuse.

“You should talk to Killian,” Liam says. Emma’s eyes widen, and she looks at Liam. He doesn’t shift away from her gaze like she was expecting. “I’m not sure what’s been going on between the two of you, but I know that there’s something. I know I’ve never been the kindest to you, but I know that you are good for Killian as long as you don’t decide to break his heart.”

Emma crosses her arms, her heart thumping under her fingertips. She wonders if Liam can hear it or see it the way she can, like it’s the third person in the conversation. “I don’t think you get a say on what I decide to do. Killian’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions. He doesn’t need you putting up some ‘holier than thou’ front to tell his friend not to get into a fight with him.”

Liam steps closer, and with her heels, she’s able to keep her gaze directly on his. “I may not know exactly why the two of you are fighting, but I do know you’re the woman he’s been sleeping with all summer.” Emma’s jaw drops, and she’s not exaggerating when she thinks it may be broken. How? How does he know? “You two should really learn to lower your voices when you’re talking in the morning. I didn’t realize until last month right before our trip, but there was one morning where I recognized your laugh and then your voice was so clear afterward.”

“I’m not – we’re not – he isn’t…”

“Emma,” Liam sighs, pressing his hand to her shoulder, “it’s okay. I’m not trying to be an ass. I know that I am one, but all I want is for Killian to be happy. And believe it or not, I want you to be happy, too. Talk to him.”

Her mind is running at one hundred miles an hour, her heart beating even faster, and her cheeks are so warm they must be as red as tomatoes. She doesn’t know what to do, what to say, how the hell she’s supposed to react to any of that, so she doesn’t. Instead, she makes an excuse, something along the lines of checking on the food for dinner, and then she’s gone, disappearing down the hallway and into a linen closet.

Liam knows.

Liam knows, and he didn’t even blow a gasket. What kind of crazy alternate universe is this? Emma doesn’t know. She doesn’t know anything.

(But Liam apparently knows a lot.)

She doesn’t know what to think or say or how she even feels about anything. All she knows is that she still has to make it through this weekend. She can’t spend all of it hiding away in bathrooms and linen closets no matter how much she wants to.

Rolling her shoulders back, Emma takes her seventeenth deep breath of the night, twists the door knob, and manages to slip out of the closet without anyone seeing her. By the time the rehearsal has finished – they did two-run throughs – Emma’s heart has managed to calm down. It wasn’t easy, especially when she saw Killian walking down the aisle, one of Elsa’s cousins on his arm who couldn’t stop laughing at whatever joke he was telling, but she was able to push back the attraction and jealousy and everything else that comes with looking at Killian Jones.

She’s always known he was handsome. It’d be impossible to miss, but tonight as he wears a baby blue shirt, halfway unbuttoned of course, and some fitted Navy slacks, his hair coiffed and beard trimmed, she’s taken aback by him once more. Mostly, though, she’s taken aback by his smile, bright and beaming, and her heart aches missing it.

Missing him.

She stands at the edge of the ballroom as people begin to take their seats, finding the names on cards on the table, and Emma knows where hers is. It’s at the head table, rather undeservedly so, but she’s the best man’s date. She gets to stick by his side.

Right now, she doesn’t know how.

Maybe she hasn’t managed to calm down as much as she thought she had.

Emma catches Killian out of the corner of her eye, still talking to that same bridesmaid, but then he’s walking away and walking right toward her. He flashes a smile, as bright and confident as ever, but there’s something off about it. She can’t pinpoint what, especially when his smile fades as he looks from side to side, almost as if he was searching for someone.

“Hello, love,” he greets before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you. You look nice.”

“Don’t I know it?” he teases, cheeky, before offering her his elbow. She takes it, looping her arm through his, and as her skin presses against his dress shirt, she can feel his warmth. It feels normal, like it has for so long, and while she didn’t forget how much she loves his touch, she didn’t realize how much she’s craved it, craved the new normalcy they’d found themselves in this summer. “Shall we go to dinner and get drunk off our asses as we listen to people give awful speeches?”

“I’d love nothing more. Don’t you have to give an awful speech?”

Killian leans in and winks. “Mine won’t be awful.”

And for a little while, things are normal. She’s sitting next to Killian, and she doesn’t have to think too hard about what to say or do. It’s just the two of them, like it always has been, and the glass of wine she’s had isn’t hurting how calm she feels. They don’t talk much, too much food on their plates and then too many people talking, but just as Emma is telling Killian about how she nearly broke her neck on a ladder today, that same bridesmaid as before interrupts her to start talking to Killian. Emma knows her name is Nora, that she lives in Portland, and that she has no problem flirting with Killian despite the fact that Emma is obviously his date.

But who is she to say anything? They’re here as friends.

They always have been.

Friends, friends, friends.

And the flirting doesn’t irritate her, not really, but the fact that Nora interrupted Emma in the middle of a story does. That’s rude, and while Emma doesn’t have the best social graces, she knows not to interrupt people. Emma ignores the two of them and looks out across the room. She wishes she were at the table with Mary Margaret, David, Ariel, Eric, Ruby, and all of the rest of her friends. Anna and Elsa’s parents have taken up most of the conversation with Elsa and Liam, so she doesn’t even have Elsa to talk to.

She’s miserable.

There’s no point in dancing around it anymore. She’s miserable, her feet are killing her, and she’s ready to go home and sleep until she has to get up. She’s never craved a Monday so badly.

Emma excuses herself from the table, not that anyone really listens, and she hurries out of the room with a pounding heart. She thought it had gone away, but it’s back with a vengeance, making her cheeks heat and her stomach fill with bile. This is the worst. Just, the fucking worst.

She’s in love with her best friend who isn’t even her best friend anymore, and she doesn’t know how to deal with any of it. This summer has been like a rollercoaster, except she hasn’t been buckled in. She’s been holding on with fear and exhilaration, and now, she’d like to get off the ride.

When she hears footsteps down the hall, she knows the end of the ride isn’t here yet.

What the hell is he doing here?

“Did you follow me?” Emma asks, not bothering to turn around.

“Well, when a woman runs off and seems upset, some might say following her is a good idea.”

“I wouldn’t.” “Swan.”

Emma turns, her heels clicking against the tile, and crosses her arms over her chest. Killian glances down, and she realizes his eyes are drawn to her boobs. Typical.

“Go back to Nora, Killian. I’m fine.”

“Nora?”

“Elsa’s cousin. The woman you’ve been oh so fascinated with all night. I don’t need a babysitter when you obviously have other interests.”

Killian huffs and steps closer.  “You’re my friend and when a friend leaves a room, obviously upset, I follow.” “Well, if you’d said that a month ago, I might believe you. now, though, I don’t.”

She’s angry, she realizes. Pissed off, actually, and Killian might be here to be kind, but she’s not.

His brow arches, one followed by the other until his forehead is wrinkled, and he steps closer. “What are you talking about?”

“Really? You’re going to play that card?”

“What card?”

“The one where you pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Like, you don’t know things have been different between us since you ended things for no damn reason.”

“Why aren’t you here with Graham?” Killian asks suddenly, and she feels like she’s been slapped with whiplash. Emma isn’t sure that’s possible, but what the hell does she know anymore? “Why the hell would I be here with Graham? You and I agreed that we would do all of the wedding stuff together, didn’t we?”

“Well, you’re dating him, aren’t you?”

“Oh my God,” Emma sighs, turning on her heels and walking down the hallway before walking back toward Killian who has got to be grinding his teeth far too much than any dentist would ever recommend.

Why is that even where her brain is going right now?

Probably because she can’t stop staring at the way his jaw clenches.

“What”? he murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest, fingers digging into biceps.

Emma stops pacing, the clicking of her heels against the tile stopping, and she places her hands on her hips as she takes a deep breath.

She’s about to fuck everything in her life up, but really, how much worse can any of it get? She can’t keep living like a madwoman, her mind contradicting everything her heart says, and for once in her life, she wants everything out in the open. She wasted too much time in an unhappy relationship because she didn’t want to speak up for herself for fear of someone else leaving her. She’s not doing that again. Damn the consequences.

It is not going to kill her to put her heat in Killian’s hands even if it means he has the ability to crush it.

“I am not dating Graham Humbert,” Emma says on an exhale. She doesn’t even know where Killian is coming from thinking that, but it doesn’t matter. “He is a new friend who I have repeatedly said I had no interest in dating, and if you could get your head out of your ass for one second, you would know that the only person I have any interest in dating is you, you absolute fucking idiot.”

-/-

-/-

tag list: @capthamm​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jrob64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @galadriel26​ @galaxyzxstark​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda​ @andiirivera​ @elizabeethan​ @captain-emmajones​ @csalltheway​ @itsfabianadocarmo​

[starkeristheendgame]

middle of it the avengers alarm goes off. The argument spills over during the battle (and of course everyone can hear them and is trying to ignore it) and it ends with one of them saying they should just break up. Then something happens and they make up lmao

So there seems to be a part missing to your ask, but I pretty much got the gist! I hope this is okay, and that you enjoy! Ages are ambiguous so let your imagination run free. Its mostly angst but at the end there’s hopefulness for a brighter future. Tony is kind of portrayed as a bit of an ass in this, but we all know he just struggles with relationships and emotions so I hope you won’t judge him too harshly.

TW: Angst | Fighting | Temporary break up | Very brief note of minor injury.

Tony’s words still ring like Church bells through his head, even hours after they’d been spoken. That harsh spitfire tone, the broken fury in his eyes as he spat the words in the midst of battle, launching that anger against their enemies. Tony’s eyes, normally rich brandy that made him think of warm nights in front of a fire, had been been inferno and rage all day.

“We’re better off without each other”.

He flinched at the echo memory, staring dully off into space as he held the pack of cooling gel against his bruised side, the taste of copper drying on his tongue. His bruised sides were his own fault; his blind rage and anguish at their fighting had transgressed into the battle. His hits had been sloppy, unkempt, and it had fallen to the rest of the team to try and hold together their splintered edges.

Even now, the rest of the team are as sullen and awkwardly tense as the seething, newly un-coupled pair. Even Steve, normally so brazen and uncowed, sits grim in the pilot seat, jaw set and gaze on the miles of clouds before them. Clint, nursing a leg and his checked pride, is a comforting but ever silent presence at his side. No warm jokes, no lopsided smiles.

Tony is the worst. Cold and impassive at the rear of the jet, working on his Gauntlet with silent fury. Peter wondered what would happen when they got back; he’d more or less moved into the penthouse with Tony by this point, their lives entangled. Peter had no idea about post-breakup protocol. Tony had been his first real relationship, the first one to have any true weight and meaning.

The aching tiredness of war had settled in. His body felt leaden and tender, and on any other day he would have curled up against Tony’s side and napped the journey home away. Now, he leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes, focusing on keeping his breathing measured and even. The battle he’d just fought seemed nothing in comparison to the fight that had began this morning and had broken like a storm on the battlefield.

“You’re unseasoned! You’re a child. Our worlds have been nothing alike and neither are we!”

“You’re half a lifetime behind me, Peter. Sometimes, I think that’s how it should be. Apart.”

“If you hadn’t been bitten by that spider, me and you? We wouldn’t ever be in the same circle”.

When he opened his eyes again they were wet and they stung, and they were home.

No. Not home. Not for him, anymore. Peter accepted the hand that Steve offered him, and followed the rest out in stony silence. He wondered if this would be the end of it; the legacy of his time as an Avenger. His entire relationship put on blast over the comms, his friends and childhood heroes unable to look him in the eye.

Medical cleared him with two cracked ribs and his own teeth imprints on his tongue. Two painkillers and a glass of water later, and he itched to be out of the suit, to be clean and to curl up in a soft bed. His only clothes were in the penthouse, however, and he reluctantly shuffled to the elevator, head low and arms wrapped around himself for comfort more than to relieve the pain.

He crept cautiously into the open space, ears perked and eyes alert. He couldn’t see Tony anywhere, though, and by the time he reached the small staircase that led up to the balcony-style second floor, he was relaxed.

A fool’s act. No sooner had he rounded the corner, light-footed on the plush carpet, he stopped. Perched on the edge of the bed, with one smartly dressed Pepper Potts between his splayed thighs, was Tony. He had his head tucked down against her stomach, arms loose around her waist, and though he could see only her back, he could tell she was running her fingers through his hair.

Heart clenching, Peter turned away and fled before they could notice him, taking the elevator down to the foyer. It was easy enough to ask for a car to drive him home, the wide eyed receptionist sympathetic and astounded by his presence. The driver who pulled up was not Happy, but he was soft and cheerful, and roused Peter gently from where he’d fallen asleep against the window on the ride home.

His bed was cold and empty, a sore trade-off from where he would normally be. But the shower was warm and a balm to his aching muscles where the painkillers had stemmed the pain but not cut it off completely. When he was dressed and beneath the sheets he turned his cheek to his pillow, and let his mind wander.

“I’m - Not - Helpless!” He snarled, kicking furiously at the robotic figure that tried to swing for his jaw. He obliterated it, pieces flying in all directions as he waded through the outburst and onto the next, his partner’s bitter tone a soundtrack to the splintering of metal before him. He lashed out again, ducked, used a web to throw the sentient steel away from him.

“You’re untrained! You’re green! You’re a fucking colt amongst stallions and I won't stand by and watch you get hurt!” Tony’s eyes were wildfire like his voice, and any other moment his appetite for war would have made Peter’s thighs squeeze together and his teeth catch his tongue. Then, it terrified him, enraged him, and saddened him. They spat fire at each other and used it to fuel their defence, and they both steadfastly ignored the pleading protests of their colleagues over the comms, tuned in to their every word. The shame had only made Peter angrier.

He awoke with it burning inside him, smothered quickly by the sight of the bare pillow before him. No sleep-warm brown eyes looking back at him, just the residual stiffness from his injuries and the bitter taste of loneliness. Peter shifted and pushed himself to his feet, forcing his morning routine. He dreaded the text that would ask him to pick up his things, or the call that would tell him Happy was on his way with his stuff.

It never came. But neither did any other call. His phone was silent from any Avenger, none of the usual post-mission calls to fill in paperwork or check-ins from the others. No Steve asking if he wanted to jog together on Wednesday, no Tony asking him to come to the lab with sexual emojis.

Only Ned, MJ, Aunt May, even Flash. Though the latter was just another request for Tony's attention. No matter how many times Peter secretly prayed each time he picked up his phone, it was never the name he wanted. By the 6th day, he'd well and truly come to realise that was it.

It was over.

They were over.

He sniffled into his ice cream. The past six days had melted into scrolling through his old messages, bawling, and watching Elle Woods get her happily ever after. He'd taken her example in the first film and had stomped silently to the grocery market to buy several litre tubs of ice cream in varying flavours. He'd put the Spidersuit under his bed and hadn't looked at it since.

Except by the next Saturday he'd run out of emotions to cycle through and messages to cry over and the itch to be out in the nightlife, sailing between the stars took over.

Putting on the suit felt like a punch to the gut and a glass of cold water at the end of a desert.

He stood on the roof of the apartment complex, swept his gaze slowly over the cityscape, then stepped off the ledge. The drop made his heart skip a beat and the adrenaline crash through his veins, and flicking his wrist with a web at the next building felt like salvation. He dropped, swung, pulled and sailed until he was panting behind the mask, arms quivering as he roamed steadily from the lower city level to the skyscrapers and business buildings, towering above the rest like sentinels and watchmen.

He ignored the nagging memories of doing this with Tony. The two of them laughing through the comms, of clinging to each other above the clouds where nobody could see them. He focused on the ache of his muscles as he climbed higher, higher. The Stark Tower was the tallest building in New York, but the Reach Building was a close second, and empty at this hour.

He threw a web and let the momentum take him, swinging a steep arc and letting go so that it tossed him high into the empty darkness, the cool breeze buffering him as he raced in the sky, baring his stomach to the stars above, arms spread and head tipped back on a delighted, breathless sigh.

One moment, he was gazing at stars, twinkling and careless above him. The next he was rolling backwards, over, and what should have been cityscape became two slats of neon blue, surrounded by peony red and rich gold. He startled, jerked, and they fell in graceful tandem. Peter's heart thumped behind the bars of his chest, and he was left breathless as he stared, the fall ignored for the jarring reality that Tony was here.

The cityscape rushed up towards them and solid arms slid around his waist, driving the breath from his lungs. The firm press of metal was something Peter had resigned himself to feel only in his memories and dreams, and he couldn't remember how to breathe in at the feel of plated fingertips digging into his hips.

They free-fell down, plummeting fast. A shift of Tony's leg and they tipped, rolling gracefully until they were upright and then Peter's entire body tingled as he heard the thrusters of the suit engage. Falling became flying upwards, held safely against warm, solid metal, though he didn't dare to lay his cheek against Tony's chest as he might've before.

He did turn his head away and close his eyes though, relishing in the feel of their bodies together last he suddenly wake up and realise, not for the first time, that it had all been a dream. It was only a cluster of seconds, but it felt like an eternity before he was being set down as gently as if he were glass, held tight by an arm around his waist as Tony's reached up, tugging off the mask as his own faceplate flipped up.

"I can't ". Tony's voice broke over the word, breathless and agonised as he clung to Peter, holding him tight. Shock rendered him speechless and he simply stood lax in Tony's grip, on his tip-toes and leaning back into the solid arm around him. Tony's eyes were dark and red, glossy like he'd been crying mere moments before they landed. He looked sleepless, exhausted.

"I can't do it" he repeated, slower, weaker. "I can't be without you. I hate myself for it, because you deserve better. Because being with you automatically means risking losing you. But I can't lose you like that". He slumped at the end of it, defeated, and Peter finally managed to swallow the knife that had lodged itself in his throat, robbing him of his words and leaving tight pain in its wake.

“You don’t get to dictate what I am and aren’t capable of doing anymore. You don’t get to keep comparing me as weak or useless against the rest of you” he breathed, tears stinging at his eyes and turning Tony into a large, red blob. A red blob that hesitated, before nodding. “And you don’t get to break up with me because you’re being a selfish ass” he added after a pause wherein both of them were too afraid to say or do anything else.

“I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. I’m undoubtedly gonna fuck up again at some point. But... Fuck, I want us to be able to fight about it, and stay together. I want you to tell me I’m wrong and I want to fall asleep next to you in the same night, because I haven’t slept since you left. And-”

Peter sucked in a breath on a sound between a laugh and a sob, wiping heavily at his eyes before he reached up and pressed his palm over Tony’s mouth, muffling whatever tangent he was about to spiel off into. The prickle of Tony’s signature stubble against his palm was a sensation he wouldn’t trade for the world in that moment.

Tony stopped, breathed in a puff of warm air, and watched him with docile hope as he leaned forwards, slowly and carefully, ducking his head out of the way of the faceplate. Tony’s eyes shone with broken adoration as he removed his palm and tipped his head, pressing a brief, weak kiss against Tony’s mouth. His legs felt weak for it and he moved his hands to Tony’s shoulders, clinging to the burnished metal.

“Come home” Tony whispered against his mouth, fingers flexing into Peter’s sides, and he nodded immediately, ducked his head down to Tony’s chest as the faceplate snicked shut and they soared towards the stars.

It wouldn’t be perfect. But that was okay, because they’d work through it and keep loving each other anyway.

[girlwithshipsshitshow]

Part 25

(Misaki Kneeled in front of his parents grave, tightly holding Usagi's hand, even though his tie had just been fixed before they left they house, it was somehow already crooked. He had no idea what to say, should he start by apologizing that he hadn't been to visit in the last fourteen years? Or introduce Usagi first like it's just a normal conversation.)

Misaki: (lets out a long sigh, Usagi Squeezing his hand for encouragement). Uh, hey mom, dad. This feels weird, I know I never really came to visit, mostly because for the longest time I thought your death was my fault, a-a-and I know that sounds dumb but it's true, so I never came, I'm here today because I lot is happening. I'm graduating!, I'm also getting married, to this guy. He's the love of my life, if you guys we're alive I'd think you'd love him. (He smiled gently at Usagi), His name is Akihiko Usami, but I call him Usagi. He's amazing, the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so lucky to have him, I want you to meet him.

Usagi: Um hi, I don't know how to introduce myself, should I say Usagi? (He ducked his head), No that sounds weird, I'm Usami. Misaki says he's the best thing that's ever happened to him, but truthfully, he saved me, I would not be this person without him. Before we met I was kinda an awful person, I never let anyone in, I was a mess, I almost died a few times, I never ate properly, I never really opened myself up to anyone, I had al these walls up, then Misaki came and I was this a different person. (he chuckled softly), Some might say softer. Misaki is the only person I've truly felt combatable with, he's my soulmate and best friend, the best person you could ever ask for, he's doing okay, he's happy, I'm so grateful for him.

Misaki: (softly), Usagi... (He wrapped his arms around the older man, leaning into him), I love you.

Usagi: I love you too. Thank you for bringing me here.

Misaki: Thank you for coming.

Usagi: You're parents would be so proud of you.

Misaki: How do you know?

Usagi: Because I'm so proud of you, how could they not be.

Misaki: Thank you.

(They stayed there for a while, in a silent embrace paying their respects, Misaki was happy he decied to come, he needed it. He was so grateful to have this man in his life, and really needed the support today.)

Monday March 16, 2020... six days before graduation.

(Misaki woke up feeling beside him, the space was empty, he was confused, usually this early in the morning Usagi would still be asleep, he rubbed his eyes, blinked a few times then gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light, turning his head towards the alarm clock he realized it was only eight am, yeah Usagi should definitely still be asleep).

Misaki: Usagi?! (He called loudly, his voice was groggy from just waking up)

Usagi: Good morning, (He smirked entering the room with a tray of breakfast consisting of coffee, eggs, hash browns, and bacon).

Misaki: (Smirks): What's all this?

Usagi: (Sitting on the bed carefully placing the tray between them, he hands Misaki the cup of coffee and places a kiss on his cheek). I made you breakfast.

Misaki: You didn't have to do that. (He takes a sip of coffee, the warmth wakes up his body, he smirks, taking Usagi's hand), You're amazing.

Usagi: I know it's not a trinational bra-

Misaki: Stop it, I love it. (He smiles, taking a bit of everything), It's great.

Usagi: I'm glad you think so.

Misaki: So why are you up so early?

Usagi: A man can't wake up early to make breakfast for his fiancé?

Misaki: (Smirks, giving him a knowing look).

Usagi: Um, Isaka called last night after you went to sleep-

Misaki: How rude, Doesn't he know not to call in the middle of the night?

Usagi: I agree, but he's my boss.

Misaki: He's your friend, and as your friend he should know not too.

Usagi: He wanted to talk to you, but I told him you were asleep.

Misaki: Why does he want to talk to me?

Usagi: He wants to have a meeting with you today about us, and you being my assistant.

Misaki: Um, why now? I'm not starting until like the begging of may.

Usagi: I don't know, but he want's to meet at noon, so eat up.

Misaki: I'm supposed to tell you to do that. You're still recovering you know.

Usagi: So, feed me.

Misaki: (Smirks, feeds Usagi a piece of bacon, the older boy takes his hand lacing his fingers through his, pulling him into a kiss, knocking the food on the bed). Usagi!

Usagi: We can clean it up. (He pulls Misaki on top of him, running his hands through his hair, they kiss passionately), Hey, (he pulls away breathing heard, pushing hair out of Misaki's face, (wanna take this to the shower?

Misaki: I don't know Usagi... (He trailed off, he Missed having Usagi inside off him, he missed being inside of Usagi, but they only had six more days till they could have sex again, surely they could wait it out right?)

Usagi: I know we have six more days till we can have sex again but.. I can help you shower right? (He grinned kissing Misaki's neck, the younger boy moaned.)

Misaki: Um, do you really think it's a good idea to show up to a meeting with love bites on my neck?

Usagi: That's okay, I can put them other places.

Misaki: We can shower together, but maybe nothing that will cause a delay in getting ready?

Usagi: Fine, (He sat, gently pushing Misaki to stand), But you owe me.

Misaki: (Grins leaning down), We have three whole weeks alone once I graduate, that trip you planned, I know where it is by the way, not in Tokyo, we'll have plenty of time to do other things.

Usagi: (Wraps his arms around Misaki's neck), Good, and we are never leaving the bedroom.

Misaki: Okay. (Kisses Usagi, then pulls him up leading him to the bathroom), Now help me wash my hair, I love when you do it.

Usagi: No problem.

(Misaki Stood outside Isaka's door he was nervous, he kept messing with his tie, it was crooked again. Usagi glanced at him, fixed his tie, and his hair).

Usagi: Sweetie, you have to relax, you already have the job, trust me, being my assent will be easier for everyone. (He kissed him softly on his forehead). Just go in, he's expecting you.

Misaki: You should come to, I'm sure he'd loved to see you.

Usagi: I can't help you with this one, he told me I wasn't allowed.

Misaki: (Sighs), Okay. I love you.

Usagi: And I love you. You're amazing, you can do this. I'm going to bug Eri.

Misaki: Leave her Alone.

Usagi: She loves me.

Misaki: Usagi-san!

Usagi: TOO LATE (at the elevator), I'm already here! Good luck! I believe in you!

Isaka: (Opens door): Misaki! (Hugs him tightly), Get in here! Lets talk.

Isaka: You already have the job, this is just a formality. No one wants to be his assistant.

Asahina: No one.

Misaki: (Angry): No one asked you lover boy.

Isaka: Things you can't do in public, Holding hands.

Misaki: What about y'all?

Isaka: You already know about us.

Misaki: When I start the Job, everyone will know the two of us are engaged.

Asahina: Fair point, even so, you can't be all over each other.

Isaka: Keep it professional.

Asahina: To be fair Isaka; If you had it your way, we would be all over each other at work, but you don't so.

Isaka: Anyway, Meetings, he still hates them.

Misaki: I know, but he has to have them, we need to keep them to an hour, book signings and releases should be at least an hour and half not all day events, although if I'm there we can probably get them for two hours, he won't do much more than that, even if I'm with him. Events that have to be longer, he would only do a day long event, no matter what, he hardly wants to be at my graduation, I don't even want to be there.

Isaka: What about b-

Misaki: Book tour? That's a joke.

(Isaka and Asahina glanced at each other, frowning).

Misaki: A BOOK TOUR? NO WAY WHY?

Isaka: He wrote four books, we want all of them out at the same time, we figu-

Misaki: Okay, some of those we're written under his pen name you can't-

Isaka: Maybe it's time for him to come clean about that.

Misaki: What?

Isaka: He came out, you guys are going to come out as a couple, I'm sure he'll be fine with it, plus he would probably make more money if people knew the books were about you two.

Misaki: The early ones weren't. He doesn't want my brother finding out about that. (Misaki blushed he was turning beat red, this was not happening).

Isaka: Him, or you? We'll just call him up here and ask... (He picked up the phone, dialing a number).

Eri: So have you guys deiced on a date?

Usagi: No, but Misaki knows how much I love Cherry blossoms so maybe in the spring, but also snow is important to us, so could be in the winter.

Eri: You can't plan that though.

Usagi: Doesn't matter, ever significant event in our lives happened when it was snowing, or snow started. It's fate.

Eri: (Smiles) Like you two.

Usagi: Exactly.

Eri: So d, (Her phone starts ringing) One sec, (She rolls her eyes), Its Isaka, (Picks the phone up), What? he is, we're busy, fine, he'll say no but I'll send him up anyway... Okay, Yeah we can do lunch, the five of us? you ask them. Bye Isaka. (Puts the phone back in the receiver, roiling her eyes), He's a pain in the ass.

Usagi: I know, what did he want?

Eri: He want's to talk to you, I told him you'd say no, but you should go up there anyway.

Usagi: What was his question?

Eri: (Sighing), I'd go find out.

Usagi: Okay. (Stands, leaning down to hug Eri).

Eri: Oh, and we're all having lunch together.

Usagi: Of course we are.

(Misaki taps his fingers in the desk, he can feel himself turning red by the second, when Usagi walks in and sits beside him he freezes, he hasn't felt like this around him in A long time).

Usagi: What's up?

Misaki: (Through gritted teeth), you don't want to know.

Isaka: How do you feel about doing a book tour?

Usagi: (Folds arms, leaning back in seat), I think you already Know the answer to that. What else?

Isaka: You're books about the two of, the ones under your pen name?

Usagi: Yeah, I know the ones? What about them?

Misaki: He want's you to say you're the one who wrote them.

Usagi: No, I can't do that, I don't want anyone to know I wrote the early ones.

Misaki: That's what I said.

Isaka: Like Misaki's brother?

Usagi: I can't ever let him know how I felt about him. If it was know I wrote those books, and thought about that... oh god (Places head in hands), and if I think about doing that stuff with Misaki.

Misaki: (Blushing harder)

Isaka: Wow, I didn't know you could turn that red.

Asahina: That is interesting.

Usagi: I can't do a book tour, two of the three books I wrote are the books about Misaki and I.

Isaka: But the other two aren't.

Misaki: He'll do a two month book tour with his books under his name.

Isaka: I think we can figure out a way to release the books under your pen name without any trouble.

Usagi: The scenes were Eri's ideas, most of them.

Misaki: My brother doesn't read that, but he will if he knows that you wrote them.

Isaka: Maybe we only print the new ones? Wipe the old ones out of exc-

Usagi: I'm telling you no!

Isaka: Some people already know, you kinda let it slip when you came out.

Usagi: I know, but I don't want anyone to know who doesn't already, plus I have the "All names are completely a coincidence"

Misaki: Yeah, right. We are going on tour with his two new books, "Beautifully drawing swords" and "Broken scars".

Isaka: Why are those titles so sad.

Misaki: A lot of his are, do you even read his books?

Usagi: The books aren't sad, "Broken scars" is-

Misaki: It's about two who are broken, they meet by chance after running away from home, fall in love and learn that broken people can heal scars.

Usagi: (Smiles) Yeah, You read the manuscript?

Misaki: Of course I did, Beautifully drawing swords was good too, more of a short story though, I wish it was longer.

Usagi: I wanted it to be, but the more I was writing it, the more I thought it worked better as a short story.

Isaka: What's that one about?

Misaki: A girl who collects swords finds a broken one a thrift shop, and makes it into a new one, she bonds with another girl across the street, and they talk about their sword collection, it's cute.

Isaka: Doesn't sound like something you'd usually write.

Usagi: I know, but I Got inspiration from a picture that Mahiro made, Eri thought it would sell, if she didn't I wouldn't have written it.

Misaki: I think kids will love it, and teens.

Isaka: I like it.

Usagi: You did agree to it.

Isaka: Did I?

Asahina: Yeah you did.

Isaka: Oh, well... it sounds sweet.

Misaki: I'm proud of him.

Isaka: You should be. Misaki, you're going to make a great assistant for him. No one can handle him like you, I mean I guess Eri, but you got him to write four books in two months, and all of them are amazing.

Misaki: (Shrugs), I don't know how.

Usagi: (Wraps his arms around Misaki), Because you're amazing, and I love you.

Misaki: I love you.

Isaka: What do you say we all go get lunch? Anyone up for pizza?

Asahina: Sure, call Eri, lets meet her in the lobby.

Misaki: Thanks for lunch Eri, (He hugged her tightly).

Eri: Anytime, hey so can I come hang out with yall later, Rose is working all week, and it's going to be lonely going home.

Usagi: Sure, but just for a bit, and you can't spend the night.

Isaka: (Laughs), Classic Usagi, not letting anyone in. (Points to Misaki), except Chibi here. (He pulls him into a hug. You're the only one.

Usagi: (Annoyed), Get off him.

Misaki: (Pushes Isaka off), Go hug your boyfriend.

Isaka: How did you do it.

Misaki: Even If I knew, I wouldn't tell you.

Usagi: (Takes Misaki's hand), No one can but him, and if we have kids.

Eri: You would spoil your kids, especially if you had a baby girl, Please have kids now!

Misaki: Can we finish building our house first? and get married?

Eri: (Clears throat), Oh yeah, sure. But after.

Misaki: You'd still want to be our surrogate right? because it might be hard japan stil-

Eri: Misaki, yes and don't worry, Rose said Ren can help, it's going to be okay.

Isaka: speaking of marriage, you guys still can't technically-

Usagi: We Know, Go to work, Asahina, take him upstairs.

Asahina: Got it, (Smirks), Pulling Isaka inside.

Isaka: HEY! YOU WORK FOR ME!

Asahina: (whispering) I'm the boss in this relationship.

Isaka: (Blushes).

Usagi: We know we need a Partnership certification.

Misaki: And that it doesn't grant us everything that a marriage would, but It's the best we can do right now.

Eri: When do you guys want to get married?

Misaki: (Grins), Winter, (He takes Usagi's hand), The snow is special to us.

Eri: You should get started now, at least looking at the documents, I heard it can take up to five moths. (Walks towards building). I'll email some information.

Misaki: (Siting on Usagi's lap, they are in his office on the couch, documents for the certificate in front of them. He sighs bowing air out), I didn't think it would be this much, we have to do this much!

Usagi: Yes. It doesn't change your mind, does it?

Misaki: (Turns to look at Usagi), What? Of course not, (He takes Usagi's face, rubbing his thumbs against his soft skin), No, it just means we have to look through all of this carefully, so we only have to do it once. If we start in August, we can have our certificate by December, maybe a little before. We'll also start the movie process by then, if we don't have any problems our house should be ready by the summer right?

Usagi: (He places his hands on Misaki's), Right, and by December we'll be moved in, we wanted to have a ceremony at our house anyway.

Misaki: Exactly It's perfect! (He grinned kissing Usagi hard), Now we need to put this in a safe place.

Usagi: I have just the spot. (He lifted Misaki, placing him beside him, stood up walked over to his desk. Opening a drawer in the bottom of his desk, he pulled out a binder marked wedding. He grinned hoping on the couch handing it to Misaki).

Misaki: Wedding?

Usagi: I've kinda been planning our wedding ever since you proposed.

Misaki: (Grins), Usagi, this is so sweet. (He holds the binder to his chest).

Usagi: Don't you want to look at it?

Misaki: Yeah, but I just remembered, I have to go get my graduation stuff, and the suit.

Usagi: Want me to come?

Misaki: Can you drop me off at the school?

Usagi: Yeah, and I can get our suits.

Misaki: Perfect. When we come we can look at the binder.

Usagi: (Eyes lighting up), Good because I have lots of ideas.

Usagi: I can't believe they had a gown that small, I bet it could fit Suzuki-san. we should test it.

Misaki: No, this, along with our suits stay in the closet until Saturday, then you can give it to Suzuki-san. (He took the suits and the gown from Usagi hanging them in the closet, then took Usagi's hand grinning at him). Okay, so let's look at the binder, you've been grinning about it all day.

Usagi: I'm so excited. (He smirked leading Misaki to the office, once there he placed the smaller man on his lap then opened the binder.) Okay so for us I'm thinking purple and blue wedding suits, purple for me.

Misaki: Of course, it'll bring out your eyes.

Usagi: Something like this. (He pointed to a picture).

Misaki: That's amazing.

Usagi: And for you, this one.

Misaki: I love it.

Usagi: And everyone else can wear black or red.

Misaki: Okay, any ideas on cake?

Usagi: Lemon, but I want it on theme, maybe this one?

Misaki: Maybe.

Usagi: You don't like it?

Misaki: It looks good, but I know we won't have a lot of people, we might need something smaller.

Usagi: Right.

Misaki: Don't say it like that (Kiss cheek), We have time.

Usagi: I know, I just wanted you to like it

Misaki: I do, and honey, we don't have to agree on everything okay?

Usagi: It would just be easer if we did.

Misaki: I know.

Usagi: We agreed on everything for our house easily.

Misaki: But not everything, there was some stuff you thought wouldn't work, and that's fine.

Usagi: I loved must of the stuff, some things I thought didn't work, so we changed them.

Misaki: Right, and it'll be like this planning our wedding.

Usagi: Okay, right. So the ceremony, you want it outdoors?

Misaki: Right.

Usagi: It might be cold though so should the reception be indoors?

Misaki: Maybe, we can look into that the closer we get.

Usagi: Okay.

Misaki: OH, the theme is amazing!

Usagi: Really?

Misaki: Yeah, I mean we won't need that many seats, but I get the idea.

Usagi: Purple winter wonderland.

Misaki: I Love it. (He turns to face Usagi embracing him), I LOVE YOU, so much!

Usagi: I love you too. (Picks up documents), Now these need to go in.

Misaki: We're getting closer.

Usagi: I know.

Misaki: I can't believe it, we've come so far huh?

Usagi: Yeah. Sure have. (He hugged Misaki tighter taking in his smell, he loved ever single thing about him, he always wanted a person, and now he had one).

[kaioken16]

Just a One time thing

Mallek Week 2021 - Day 4

Day 4: Fashion  Word count: 2130 Rating: Teens and Up Character(s): Mallek Adalov, MSPA Reader, Original character, Bronya Ursama, Remele Namaaq, Lanque Bombyx, Dammek

AO3 link

A/N: It was hard to figure out what to write, as this prompt would better for a drawn piece. But I managed to come up with something. This was inspired by many offices and fashion company-themed AUs. 

sidenote: MSPA Reader will be referred to as 'Sam' as I have a few headcanon names for them that are nonbinary. 

Summary: A day in the office turns upside down by a series of events, Mallek Adalov, graphic designer and production assistant at a fashion company finds himself temporary modeling for a day.

Mallek was working at his computer, he was roaming through many documents, his eyes were beginning to feel heavy as he had to occasionally remove his glasses to rub his eyes. He had been at this for hours, but nothing he couldn’t help. He worked in the marketing and production department for one of the most successful fashion companies all over Prospit city. Not the kind of place that Mallek would work initially, if you had told him back when he was a teenager that he would be working in a company like this, he would’ve laughed and said that was a funny joke.

But that several years ago and he was now fresh out of university and needed a way to pay the bills for his home, his equipment, and his hobbies. So after a few applications and phone calls and a quick interview, he found himself working here. It was new territory, but the work mostly entailed computer-related stuff, from ordering products and material, going over the programs that the designers used, making sure there were no issues. But it paid really well, the hours were agreeable and the people he worked with were nice.

Mallek had been working in the department for over two months now. And today started off as a normal day, a quiet morning there only a few of them in the office, so he could relax while he worked, as he types away an email for the head office, an empty coffee Starbucks cup was on his right side, along with a half-eaten cinnamon raisin bagel.

Suddenly he hears a loud bang which disrupts the silence, making him stand up from his desk, he then hears wails and a loud voice screaming. Was someone hurt?

He rushes over to the location of the screams to find the scene, four people, pieces of paper all over the place, some just hitting the ground. Your good friend Sam, who was carrying the paperwork, and was probably overlooked due to his short height. Remele, one of the designers who was the one screaming, and Bronya who had an annoyed look on her face, Lanque was also on the ground too, rubbing the back of his head.

“Is everything okay?” Mallek speaks, as it was clearly not okay.

“This is a disaster! Oh no, no, no.”  Remele proclaims.

Lanque chuckles awkwardly “Oh no, it’s okay, I think I’m okay-”

“Not you, you piece of meat! My outfit, it’s been stained.” her gaze is fixed on the stains on the suit he was wearing, as it had been stained with either coffee or water.

Sam immediately goes to try and help Lanque. “I am SO sorry about that, I didn’t see you and I was losing my grip on the papers…”

“NO! Don’t touch my creation before you ruin even more!” Remele shouts which make the tiny individual flinch. She was only a few inches taller than them but still very scary.

“Hey, they’re just to help, and you need to chill.” Bronya snaps back, her tone was firm but not yelling as she goes to help Lanque.

“Here lemme help ya their buddy.” Mallek helps Sam gather up their papers.

Just as Lanque is helped back to his feet when he suddenly hisses out in pain. “Ah!”

“What’s wrong?” Bronya asks him, concerned as she can see the pained look on his face.

“I think... I twisted my ankle.” He says as the pressure on his leg sends pain through his limb.

“What?!” Remele’s eyes widened with shock, she then glared at Sam. “So you damaged my outfit and my model?!” She balls her fists, gritting her teeth causing Sam to hide behind Mallek.

“Whoa, take it easy.” Mallek holds his hands up attempting to diffuse the situation.

“Remele, you need to calm down. We will sort this out, I’ll let Rhakei know what’s happened and we’ll deal with it.” Broyna adds.

“Are you kidding me?! She’ll flip and if he can’t walk, how’s gonna do the shoot? We don’t have to get another model here in time.” Remele argues back as their head designer and studio manager ‘Rhakei Nadzas’ was in charge of the shows and was a no-nonsense woman.

“She’ll understand. We have a spare for this outfit, and we’ll get this one cleaned, but first things first we need to get him some first aid.” Broyna’s first priority was to make sure their model was okay.

Remele was still losing it, putting her hands in her hair. “But where are we gonna find someone 6 foot, and can fit into this outfit within the hour…”

Sam’s eyes were shifting between everyone as they argued, it’s then their eyes shifted up to Mallek. He was over 6ft, and his build was similar to Lanque, and without his glasses and a bit of touch up…

“Uh…” They raise their hands to get everyone’s attention. “Bit of a long shot but Mallek here could do it.”

“What?” Mallek, Broyna, and Remele say in unison at this suggestion.

Mallek chuckles nervously. “Oh no, no… I’m not a model I couldn’t possibly-”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Lanque says which was even more surprising to hear.

“Seriously? I just work here in the office, I don’t think I could-” Mallek is cut off as Remele suddenly approaches him, and pulls off his glasses, he blinks a few times adjusting, she then examines him cupping his chin and moving his head around.

“Long shot, but we don’t have much time.” Remele says. “Okay, I’ll take him to hair and makeup and get him fitted.” she says without letting Mallek get a word in, she pulls him along out of the office.

The next thing Mallek knew he was brought before Ms. Nadzas by Remele who gives her the rundown and after being ‘examined’ by her as well she gives it all clear. Mallek felt like he can’t say no in this situation and wanted to lend a hand since he could tell that Remele was both desperate and would want Sam’s head on a platter, and he wasn’t mad at his friend for suggesting him. He just wanted to be helpful and do whatever he could to make the situation easier for the company. They needed to get these photos done for the shoot by the end of the day, and only had an hour to get ready as other departments would need the camera and get to the photo ready. Plus it was just gonna be a one time thing after all...

…

How on earth did you feel yourself in this situation? That was the thought that was racing through your head. What chain of events led to you here. One minute you came into work, to handle some server issues, and sort out some files and orders for an upcoming show. Now here you are dressed in an all black suit, tight-fitted like you could see everything more or less. You had been given a touch up on makeup, and your hair had been slicked back. You were standing backstage, waiting for the shoot to begin. Yes, a fashion shoot.

You had to keep reminding yourself of that as this was really happening right now. To say that you were nervous would be a major understatement. This was a very extroverted activity you were about to engage in, which didn’t match with your introverted tendencies.

But it wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

Just then you hear footsteps approaching from behind, you look behind you to see Rhakei, the tall jadeblood wearing a simple long dress, high heeled shoes, on her right arm was a wristband which flowers sewed into, and under her left arm was a clipboard with a bunch of documents, her hair is tied back into a ponytail. Before you can say anything she invades your personal space, and reaches up to your hair, fixing something by the expression on her.

Then she walks around you, you can feel her touch on your clothing, followed by the sound of her pen writing short notes on her clipboard. “Hmm. Very nice.” She says but you weren’t so sure if she was complimenting you or the material of the outfit, there was no in-between with her.

“You also clean up very well.” Okay, now you know that she was talking about the suit earlier.

“Thanks…”

“Alright, nothing too serious just a few photos in our three outfits along with the other model and that’s it.” She explains to you in a quick tone, as this was the first of three new outfits that you would be modeling for.

“O-okay. I understand…”

She must’ve caught the nervous tone in your voice because she looked at you directly but only for a moment her eyes returned to her clipboard. “Deep breaths, relax, this is just an only time thing. And no pressure we would be jumping down your throat or being hostile. You’re doing us a favor on the short notice and we appreciate it.” That was a very kind thing to come from her, considering that you had heard on many occasions her arguing with the head designer in his office, between raised voices and literal objects being thrown around.

Guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

“You’ll be fine Mallek, just relax, and if you feel stuck or uncomfortable just let or the others know. And you won’t be alone out there either.” She reminds you as there would another model right beside you, and it was only gonna be a handful of people so it wouldn’t be too embarrassing.

“You ready?” Rhakei asks as you just nod.

She smiles faintly and leads out to the photoshoot. They're waiting for you was another troll, a bronze with antler horns, his eyes were shielded by sunglasses, he was wearing a completely different outfit. While you were in a suit, he was wearing a leather jacket, a long sleeved shirt, jeans and boots, and a pair of spiked cuffs.

“Alright boys, we’ll be doing a few photos for each outfit, a few poses, shouldn’t take too long.”

“Dammek, this is Mallek, he works in one of our offices and will be filling in for Lanque just for today. There was an incident earlier.” Rhakei casually explains to the other model, naming him ‘Dammek’.

“Alright, that’s fine. I’m cool with this.” Dammek responds in a nonchalant manner, it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Great, then let’s get started.” She says as the camera and lighting team sets up for the shoot…

“Okay, here we go…” You whisper to yourself under your breath.

…

Later on, after the photoshoot, Mallek is back in his normal clothes back at the office, he was a little exhausted leaning back into his chair. That was… Something. Miss Nadzas said that he was a real natural, he did well and even Dammek complimented him, it really boosted his confidence, and he ended up having fun with it too. It was very straightforward, the only hectic part was sudden outfit changes and his questions regarding how he should pose, and many other questions. But other than that, it went really well, Remele was happy that the outfit looked good in the photos, Lanque was grateful for his help, and both Broyna and Sam said he did a great job.

“Hey, dude!” He looks over to see Sam smiling, holding what was probably a peace offering, some fresh coffee, and something that smells really good.

“Just thought I would drop these off.” They place the items at your desk.

“Thanks.” Mallek smiles as he was in need of some fuel, opening the bag to see the contents, some slices of pizza.

“Sorry again for throwing ya under the bus like that, I hope you didn’t mind plus the photos looked really great.” Sam rubs the back of their head, it just happened.

“Don’t worry about it. At least this way you wouldn’t get murdered by Remele for the accident.” Mallek jokes at his friend’s expense as this would be a new thing to joke about.

Sam chuckles. “Y-yeah, she said that we’re even so that means I’m off her kill list. Just gotta be more careful in the future.”

“So whaddya think, you could definitely be a model on a regular basis, maybe do a fashion show.” Sam retorts as they had a new topic to tease Mallek with as well.

Mallek laughs. “Ha! Nope. My modeling career began and ended today, this was a one-time thing so Remele wouldn’t murder you and they could get the photos for the designs ready for the magazine.”

“If you say so dude, but you did look great out there.” Sam adds which does make Mallek smile.

[buckymorelikefuckmebarnes]

Fortunate Pt. 10

Masterlist

a/n: its been forever so its totally cool if you hate this now but i have to finish my brain baby. also i lost my tag list so if you want on send me a message...

A few weeks in - A few weeks out

You and Clint had been dating for a few weeks and had spent almost every day of the first week together. But that had cooled down considerably this week. Several days had passed since your last date with Clint. He had texted you a few times but had a potential client from the west coast flying up with their daughter and had been busy with meetings off and on. You and Bucky were falling back into your old routines. He gave you a ride home from the shop on Monday and by Thursday the air around the two of you had completely cleared. You were kicking a bolt across the garage floor as you paced and texted Clint on your phone when Bucky came in carrying lunch. 

“Hey. Head out of the clouds Missy. I have food.” Bucky said with a grin spreading on his face.

He tossed a brown paper sack your way and you snagged it before it could hit the ground. “Oooh burgers and fries?” You said with a knowing look on your face.

“Yeah. And a milkshake you ungrateful gnome.” Bucky pulled the drink from behind his back. “Also, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what Bunky?”

“Like you are in on some kind of secret.”

“Like the fact that this food is from Danvers, the restaurant your girl works at.”  You winked at him. “Did you get a special discount?”

“I told you a million times already. It’s not like that. Anna Marie is a friend. The date didn’t turn out the way I expected but she’s great either way. So yes I got a discount but no it's not for what you’re thinking.”

You unwrapped the burger and took a bite. “Mhhohmygod.” You moaned around the food as you chewed. “Mthisisofuckunggud.” 

Bucky blew his straw paper into your head. “Don’t talk and chew. It’s disgusting.”

You swallowed and stuck out your tongue . 

Five hours later you were holding on to Bucky as you wove through traffic to your apartment. He was going to drop you off, give you both time to change and then pick you up so you could meet with everyone for Nat and Steve’s engagement dinner. You had invited Clint but he was still entertaining his potential clients and promised to text you through the evening. 

Bucky held the bike's weight as you slipped your leg over the seat. “Thanks Blocky. See you in an hour?”

“Your nicknames are terrible but yes I’ll be back in 60.” He twisted the throttle and wove down the street to his own apartment.

You ran up the steps and unlocked the door. Your apartment was warm and inviting and you could hear the siren call of your bed. It took all of your strength to ignore it and get into the shower. You set a 15 minute alarm so that you wouldn’t lose track of time within the hot water. Your phone buzzed from it’s spot on the window sill next to the shower. You reached out and checked the notification bar.

Hey babe, I think I might land this deal. Got a few things to nail down but yeah. What are you up to?

Oooh… so I'm babe now? I'm getting ready for dinner.

Too soon? Whoops? Bucky giving you a ride? 

Nah BABE youre fine. Yeah Bucks taking me

You wash your body, careful to keep the soap out of your hair and eyes. When you are clean and smelling like your vanilla soap you get out of the shower and start getting ready. You are going to a very fancy restaurant, a place that would require you to dress up but you weren’t about to put on a dress just for it to wrinkle on the back of Bucky’s bike. You opted for a pair of black slacks and a satin navy blue dress shirt that complemented your skin in the best possible way.

You were slipping your heels into your purse as Bucky knocked on your door.

“Just a minute, I’m putting on my boots!” You yell from the couch in the living room.

The door opens and Bucky is standing next to the couch before you get the zipper pulled up on your second boot. He looks… good. You check him out from toes to head. He was in fitted dress pants and a black dress shirt with a dark blue tie. His hair was pulled back into a loose bun at the base of his neck. His Blue eyes sparkled with excitement and his smile was breathtaking. 

“You are the perfect woman, you know that?” He asked as he helped you stand and took in your outfit. “Did you bring your heels with you or are you going to stay in these shit kickers all night?” He pressed, kicking you boot softly with the tip of his.

You patted the purse on your shoulder that was bigger than you normally carried due to the cargo inside. “All packed up and safe right here.”

“Awesome. Lets go.”

You walk in and Steve and Nat are practically sitting on each other's lap, You walk up and make a gagging noise that gets their attention. “You guys are so cute, it makes me sick.”

“Thanks.” Nat replied, scrunching her nose and eyes up as she smiled. Steve popped up to give you and Bucky a hug over the table. Nat followed suit. 

“I’m glad you made it. Where is Clint? I was excited to give him the intentions speech.” Steve said with a gravelly chuckle.

“He’s with a client. Has been most of the week. Apparently it's a huge opportunity for him. If he lands an instructor gig with Mr. Stark he should be able to open his own gym.”

“Wow, sounds exciting.” Sam’s voice startled you as his hand came down on the back of Bucky’s chair.

A cheer of “Sam” came from all around the table as everyone was excited to see he was able to make it. 

“I’m happy for you, man. You got your girl.” He said kissing the top of Natasha’s head but his eyes flitted to Bucky long enough to make you question what he meant by his words. “So… How’s engaged life treating you?” He asked as he shuffled around Steve to the open seat next to Bucky.

“Good man, We’ve been looking at venues and doing all that planning stuff.” Steve replied with a huge grin.

“Which brings me to my first bullet on the wedding checklist.” Nat interjected. She grabs both of your hands and pulls you closer. “Will you be my maid of honor?”

“You let out a little squeal and nodded. “Of course Nat! I’d be honored!” 

“I don't want to put either of you on the spot about the best man thing and make the other one feel like I love them less so you guys can arm wrestle for it or something…” Steve trails off. Bucky’s mouth popped open in shock and Sam let out a little huff. 

“You’re kidding right?” Bucky asks. “We’ve been friends since forever!”

“Yes but only because I knew you’d freak out enough to ease the heart breaks for Sam. Sorry bud. It’s gotta be Buck.” He said turning to Sam. “I’d still be honored if you would be my other groomsman.” 

Sam smiled and hugged Steve. “Duh, man. But that means Buck has to plan your Stag night.” He said, making a face of disgust.

Everyone laughed and the night continued on with smiles and stories from everyone at the table.

By 10 pm you were totally exhausted and ready to hit the hay. Bucky turned to you with a sad smile, “Time to head home, Sugar?” You nod.

“Alright guys, me and little bit here have to get going. Work in the morning.” You give your friends a hug and put cash for you and Bucky’s dinner in the little black book that the server had dropped off.

When you got out to the bike you sat and waited on Bucky to exit the restaurant. 

“You think you’re pretty slick, huh?” Bucky asked, sliding on his jacket and throwing his leg over the bike.

“Huh?” You ask, kind of tired and kind of confused.

“I went to pay the check and it was gone.”

“Oh yeah. Well you got lunch and gave me a ride… I picked up dinner. It’s fair” You replied sliding in behind him and wrapping your arms tight around his waist. You could almost feel him roll his eyes before he turned his torso to look at you. Whatever he had planned to say died on his lips when his eyes met yours. 

“Fine. Lets just say it's payback for drooling on your favorite shirt during movie night.”  

Instead of continuing to argue he just shook his head and turned back to kick the bike to life.

You hopped off of the bike and hugged Bucky tight. “Night Buck. See you in the morning.”

“Night doll.” 

You skipped up to your apartment and promptly fell asleep in all of your clothes.

The next morning you work up to a text from Bucky and two from Clint. Bucky’s was the usual safe message he sent any time he dropped you off, he knows you worry about him but also doesn’t expect a reply. You open Clint’s next. 

Good morning beautiful. 

I have good news call me when you wake up.

His dinner must have gone well but you weren’t sure what the urgency could be about.

You quickly brushed your teeth and washed your face before dialing his number. It only rang twice before he picked up. He was panting and you could hear the sounds of people training in the background. 

“Hey babe. How was dinner?” he said, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Pretty great. Had a lot of fun. Looks like I get to be Nat’s Maid of Honor which is really exciting.”

“That is amazing! Well, Do you have lunch plans today?” He asked, “I guess I could have just texted you that. “ 

You giggle at him over the line and assure him that you are free for him to pick you up at noon.

When you get to the shop the strong smell of coffee and motor oil hits you and you can't help but think about how much you love your job. Peter pops up from behind his desk. “Morning. There is coffee on the counter and Bucky just ran to grab doughnuts.”

“Thanks Peter. Anything new in today?” 

“Not for a few hours. Mrs. Sledge is due in around 1230 for an oil change and tire rotation.”

“Cool.” You make your way through the reception area and into the garage. The radio was already on and playing classic rock from the speakers as you set yourself up to reorganize you and Bucky’s tool boxes. 

You rolled your chair over to your box first. It wasn’t too messy and you felt a bit of pride in actually being able to keep it halfway decent looking. You wiped off all of your wrenches and put them in order before turning to Bucky’s box. The tall, silver, rolling cabinet was covered in greasy handprints and stickers and you shuddered. You opened the bottom drawer to find little to be upset over. His screwdrivers were all clean and orderly. All the drawers that followed were the same, which was odd. Bucky was very neat at home but his toolbox was usually always some form of disorganized. When you popped open the top drawer you couldn’t help but smile. Pinned to the corner of the lid was a picture of the three of you at prom. You laughed at the three kids playing dress up. 

The bell above the door let out a high pitched ding and you carefully shut his toolbox. 

“Hey Peter. One chocolate glazed sprinkle doughnut. Is she in already?”

“Yes she is.” You say as you lean against the door jam.

“Oh hey. So I got us some breakfast,”he said opening the box in front of you, “I got your favorite.” 

You grab the doughnut and bite off half of it, “Fanks.” You say around the half chewed bread.

“Gross.” Peter said, leaning away a bit. His crush must be wearing off, you thought idley to yourself. 

You start walking back into the shop and Bucky follows, leaving the almost full box on Peter’s desk. “So apparently we don’t have anything planned until after lunch. I was going to clean up the boxes but that’s already done so… what do you want to work on?”

“Let’s do inventory for a bit. I’m sure there is something that needs ordered or replaced.” 

And so you did, actually you worked on inventory between singing off key and showing Peter how to order from your supplier. At around 1130 Bucky leaned back in his stool and yelled to the front desk. He wanted to know if Peter wanted anything for lunch. He kindly declined saying something about lunch with his friends.  Bucky turned and asked you the same thing. It was at that point you realized you had forgotten to tell him that you had plans with Clint. You let him in on the plan and he blew a strand of hair from his face and stood up. 

“Cool. I’ll start Mrs. Sledge’s car without you then.” He looked a little irritated. “Bet I finish it before you get back too. But first, I'm gonna get lunch. Text me if anything comes in.”

You stared after him for a few minutes, totally confused. You finished with the last of the fluids inventory about twenty minutes later and washed up in the shop's bathroom, Bucky wouldn’t be back until you were gone which would leave Peter alone in the shop for half an hour. You hoped nothing would come up in that time.

You quickly ran the brush you kept stashed in your tool box through your hair and threw on a coat of mascara and eyeliner before Clint showed up. 

The bell chimed above the door and you ran to the office area. Clint was standing in the door with a bouquet of bright flowers. 

“Hey babe.” He said kissing your cheek. 

“Hey. Are these for me? They are really pretty.” You reply as he hands you the flowers.

“Yeah. You might want to get them in some water. The yellow ones wilt really fast.”

“Already on it!” Peter called from the supply closet. 

“Thanks Pete!” You yelled over your shoulder.

“So what’s for lunch?” You ask as Clint wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“You’ll see.” He replied with a mischievous smile. 

You were stretched out on a picnic blanket in the shade of a big oak. A sweet smelling fall breeze blew through your hair and Clint tucked a stray strand behind your ear. It was sad and wistful and beautiful.

“So it’s only for a few weeks. A month at most.” Clint had planned a lovely lunch and had listened to you gush about the engagement dinner before he dropped the bomb. He had landed the deal but he had to go to the west coast for the job to work out. Apparently Mr. Stark is adamant about having Clint show his daughter how to use a bow and is willing to pay good money for his services. Still, you were sad to see him leave for any length of time.

“When do you leave?” You asked, not masking the sadness in your voice.

“Monday morning. I have an 8am flight.” Clint kissed the side of your mouth where your lips had curved down into a pout. “It'll be fine. A few weeks and then I’m back here with you and we can see where this new adventure takes us.”

 Clint walks you back to the shop with your hands tangled together. When you get to the door he leans in and leaves a soft kiss on your lips. “I'm gonna be to your place at six Sunday and we are going to go on one hell of a date, okay?” He asks, trying to make you smile before he leaves. You nod quickly and try to hold back any sadness left in your voice

“Sounds great.” He leans in and steals one more kiss before you push through the door of the shop.

Bucky stood up as you made a beeline for the bathroom. “You okay, doll?” he asked through the locked door. 

“Yeah.” You called back, your voice cracking slightly.

“Sounds like you’re upset. Wanna talk about it?”

You wipe your face off and take a long look in the mirror before answering. So what if the first boyfriend you have had in ages is leaving for weeks? You have a job and good friends and he’ll be back before you know it. You open the bathroom door and Bucky stumbles a little. He had obviously been leaning on the wood before you yanked it open. 

“I’m fine, Bucky. Really.” You smile at him and he visibly relaxes. “Did you finish Mrs. Sledge's car yet?” 

Saturday at the shop was, well, a regular Saturday if you were being honest. Bucky had gotten in early so he could leave in time to get to Sam’s for poker night and you had zero plans even though your boyfriend would be headed across the country in less than two days. You hadn’t said anything to your friends yet, focusing mostly on your feelings without outside input. Plus they would all know soon enough, Clint would be sure to tell the guys since he was headed to Sam’s as soon as he got off as well. You moved around the garage aimlessly picking up tools and wiping of counters as you went.

“Hey. You okay? You seem a little out of it.” Peter called from around the reception area’s wall. 

“I’m fine. Ready to get today over with.” You replied with a shrug. You had just finished with the last car on your list and the owner wouldn’t be back for another hour so you were left with some idle time. Idle time was the last thing you wanted though. You were going through your mental checklist of everything you needed to do before you closed up shop when the bell above the door rang and the reception area was filled with young voices. You walked to the door way and saw Peter’s friend, Ned and a new girl with curly brown hair and a fuck off attitude. You looked over at Peter who seemed to have frozen with his fingers glued to the keyboard.

You kicked the wall and he snapped out of his daze. “Hey Ned. Hey Michelle. Wha- What are you doing here?” He asked as he worked to smooth down his hair. 

“I was bored after class and Ned said we should come bother you.” Michelle said, almost sounding sleepy. 

“I did no- OW!” Ned started to talk but Michelle kicked him in the ankle. You tried to cover your laugh with a cough.

“Oh, yeah. This is Michelle,” Peter said turning to you.

“Hey.” You uncrossed your arms long enough to wave before tucking it back against your body. “Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever this is. When is Kevin due back for his car?”

“Um…” Peter pulled up the calendar on his computer, “In about 40 minutes.” 

“Okay. If you can get his paperwork done and your desk ready you can head out early if you want. I don’t mind closing shop.” You said walking back to your work area.

“Everything is on my desk. Thanks for covering for me.” Peter said about ten minutes late while you were checking that all of the bolts were tightened.

“No problem Peter.” You replied without looking up at him. “Hey wait… Just before you go” 

Peter’s sneakers squeaked against the shop floor, “Yeah?”

“Michelle. I can tell you like her. You should definitely make a move before someone snatches her up.”

“Wha- Me and MJ? We’re just friends. Been friends since high school. Tha- That’s all.” Peter stumbled through the excuse and your heart ached a little for him.

“Look kid. She likes you too. Take the chance.” You said with a sad smile.

“Thanks. I think I might. And you know what, The crazy thing is… Mr. Barnes said the same thing to me the other day.” Peter said before he took off for the office.

Nat called you some time into your third glass of whiskey and second episode of some cooking show that hates its contestants to yell at you.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say Clint was leaving?” You had to pull the phone away from your ear as she yelled.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? He’s the first guy that you’ve gone out with more than once since I’ve met you and he’s leaving. How is that ‘not a big deal’?”

“It’s only for a few weeks, maybe a month. I’ll survive.”

“Me and Wanda are already on our way to your place.”

“Nat. No. Just stay at home. I’ll be okay. I’m getting ready to head to bed anyways.”

“When’s he leaving?”

“Huh?” 

“When is Clint leaving?”

“He’s got a flight out Monday morning. We are going out tomorrow.”

“Fine. Me and Wanda will be over first thing.” She obviously couldn’t tell how irritated you were getting with the whole conversation.

“Why?” You appreciate her concern but you were really fine. You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Well, one because we are your friends and we care about you and two so we can have a girls day and get you ready for your date.”

“Jesus. We aren’t getting ready for prom, Nat.”

“I know but we want to go out anyway so breakfast, nails, and shopping. Deal?” Wanda Chimed in from the background. You hadn’t realized that you were on speaker phone.

“Fine guys. But I’m really okay.”

“We’ll see you at 11. Love ya” With that Nat hung up on you.

Your friends were really annoying sometimes. You cleaned up your living room table and washed the dishes before crawling in to bed, apparently you had a big day tomorrow.

[captainofthebrokentides]

About Bloody Time! Michael Ragosa x OC

Ok so this is a long and gratutiously fluffy little story. I hope it doesn’t babble too  much, i got a bit carried away. As you can probably guess, it’s set during the episode parenthood! Please enjoy the candy floss sweet fluff. Let me know what you think!!

Bella didn’t think she had ever seen Ragosa so stressed. Not when he was administrator, not even the day he called her from his office crying because his eye surgeon had found a tumour.

At least then he’d talked to her. He’d talked to her way into the day, after their shift had finished. He'd cried and poured everything he was feeling into her in that moment, holding onto her so tight his knuckles were white. And Bella had been there for him, as best friends should be. She’d sorted through treatment plans with him, driven him to the operation, and had been there when he’d woken up from the anaesthetic. She waited on him, hand and foot in his home while he recovered, and they binged on ice cream and comedy movies.

She would prop him up and support him wholly when he came to her with his problems, but she couldn’t deal with the weird tense silence that was currently following him around.

He hadn’t even said hello when they were in the locker room together that evening. He’d just flung his bag into the locker, slammed the door and put his phone straight to his ear.

Now she stood behind the nurse’s desk, watching him as he paced back and forth on the other side of the wooden doors. Talking in quiet, heated Spanish on the phone.

“He alright?” Jordan asked, leaning up against the desk. Jordan had always been nice to Bella from the day Ragosa had gotten her the job and introduced her to the team.

“No. see that flexing thing he’s doing with his right hand? It’s a stress reaction. He used to do that a lot while him and Lydia were divorcing.” He was indeed opening and closing his fingers into a fist at a steady pace by his side. “He used to do it while we were at med school together too.”

Bella strained her ears, to see if she could pick up what he was saying.

“You can’t do this to my daughter, it’s her party in two days … I’ll uh … I’ll pay it off in instalments.” His head was drooped low in defeat. The pay cut down from administrator had really been doing a number on him, he could barely afford his rent and child payments to Lydia, he mostly ate at Bella’s house because she knew he couldn’t really afford to shop, but was too proud to mention it.

“Please, I’m begging you!”

Bella quickly left the nurse’s station and made her way over to Ragosa as he hung up and angrily slammed his fist into the wall, an angry, dejected look on his face.

“Michael” She said smoothly as she came up behind him. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her with sad eyes.

Jordan, who was still watching the display raised her eyebrows, and he raised his hands up to her “I’m sorry Jordan.”

“That’s ok” the dark haired doctor said with a soft smile. “Take 5?”

Ragosa nodded and leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. He let out a painfully shaky breath.

It hurt Bella to see him hurting so much. Michael was doing so well, living his life the way he wanted. He was supposed to be happy. She trailed her hand down from his shoulder and took his hand in hers. She gave him a little reassuring squeeze. “You wanna grab a coffee? You look like you didn’t sleep much?” she asked gently, her words only loud enough for the pair of them to hear.

He opened his beautiful dark eyes, that were full of worry and gave her a weak smile.

“You know what I’d really like?” he was slightly hoarse. He rubbed his thumb over hers where their hands joined. “I’d like a hug.” He looked up at her through his thick dark eyelashes. He looked like a defeated little boy, and it broke Bella’s heart.

“How about a hug and a coffee?” she posed, grinning at him, opening her arms wide for him.

“Deal.”

 ***

“So” Bella blew on her latte, hoping to cool it down. They were sat on the roof, with their feet dangling over the edge. A place you would never have found him a few months ago when he was administrator. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Michael shuffled uncomfortably and knocked his head against the railing, he opened one beautiful brown eye and gazed up at her sadly. “I just lost the venue for Naomi’s birthday”

Now Bella understood. “Her Quinceanera?”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, frustrated. “Mmmhmm, just with the pay cut and everything, it adds up. I maxed out all my cards. I have no money Bel.” He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. “I’ve got two days Bel. I can’t fix this …” He looked down at his hands. “I can’t fix it.”

Bella’s heart hurt, watching the strong, wonderful man crumple like a wet tissue. She didn’t know what she could do to take his hurt away. She laid her hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze.

“She’ll be crushed Bel. She’ll never want to talk to me again. Lydia will kill me.”

“Heh. I never liked her.” Normally he’d have smiled, or come back with a quip about the feeling being mutual, but he just stared at the ground, pained. “I’m sorry sugar. I love you, and your kids.” She reached into her bag and took out her purse. Without a second thought, she handed him her credit card. “I don’t know how much is on here Mikey …”

He cut her off, pushing her card back to her, the look in his eyes was grateful.

“I can’t take that Bel. You do enough for me. I know how much you’ve scraped together on that card. You need that to live. Not bail me out of my problems.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, his lips lingering on her skin longer than was probably appropriate for a kiss between best friends. “Thank you though. Your offer means the world to me. But I got myself into this mess, I’ll get myself out too.”

She blinked, trying not to feel hurt that he was taking on all the burden himself. “I’m here if you need me though. Don’t freeze me out, alright? You know I’ve always got your back.”

He gave her hand a little squeeze and offered her the most confident smile he could muster.

A wail of sirens broke them moment as three ambulances can screeching into the bay below them.

“Duty calls.” He said, standing and offering her his hand for balance,

Bella grumbled good naturedly and accepted. “And I haven’t even finished my coffee.”

 ***

A flash of orange and obnoxious clicking of high heels caught Bella’s eye, as the angry woman and teen stopped in the hallway where Ragosa was stood talking to a few colleagues. Bella and Jordan were going through and entering patient data onto the system not even a couple of feet away.

“Dad, is it true we’re not having my birthday party?”

“Ouch.” Jordan whispered, looking at Bella whose eyes were glued to the scene in front of her.

“Of course she’s here, she’d do anything to hurt and humiliate Michael.”

Jordan chuckled. “You really don’t like her, do you?”

Bella narrowed her eyes. “I never have.” She clenched a fist and struggled against her urge to storm over there. “She accused us of having an affair. Dumb bitch.”

Jordan raised her eyebrows, “Really? Well I guess you and Ragosa are close. And I could see it. I think you’d be cute actually.”

Bella didn’t say anything, but watched with gritted teeth as Michael tried to fight his corner against his angry ex wife and distraught daughter.

“I’m not taking crap for this Michael, you call and tell everyone it’s cancelled.” Lydia stormed out of the emergency room, not even glancing in Bella’s direction.

“I can’t believe this.” Naomi followed her mother, with her head down.

“Naomi! Honey!” Ragosa tried, but they flat out ignored him. He looked tired, unhappy and defeated. Bella’s heart hurt for him again.

He left the waiting room they had been fighting in and trudged over to Bella. His dark eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at her. “I fucked it up Bel.” He leaned into her like a small child seeking comfort. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his hair soothingly, breathing in the fresh scent of his aftershave. “She’s going to hate me forever. I promised her everything. I’m such a bad father, I chose to follow my dream, but its going to alienate her.”

Bella pulled him away from her and held him at arm’s length, insisting he hold her dark gaze with his.

“You, Michael Ragosa, are not a bad father. You’re anything but.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shushed him quickly. “Who are the people you think most about in your day? Every day?”

He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, but still maintained her eye contact, “My kids, you, my mother.”

She wanted to blush and cheer that she was in that list, and that she was always on his mind, but she pushed it down. “Exactly, your kids. They mean the world to you Mikey, and you try, you’ve been through so much, but no matter what you do, you fight for them. And that makes you an amazing father.”

“But the money”

“Money isn’t everything Mikey. You’ve always put everything on hold, for the whole fifteen years I’ve known you. Now it’s time for you. You get to explore who you are, and all the things you missed out on.”

Ragosa nodded, and wiped his eyes. “You’re right. I put off getting my eye surgery. I dropped out of med school – if I’d have carried on I wouldn’t be training in my 40s. I married the wrong girl.” His dark eyes flicked up to hers on the last item on his list.

Bella swallowed hard. He had married the wrong girl. During their days at med school they’d had so many near breakthrough moments where they should have thrown caution to the wind, kissed and confessed their love for each other, but they didn’t because he knew Lydia was safe and familiar. He didn’t want to risk his heart being broken.

“And you’re fixing it all, right?” she held her breath, unsure how he’d answer. She knew she’d never fallen out of love with Michael Ragosa over the years, even when she was engaged to her ex, which is why he was ex.

He looked at her with determination on his handsome face. “I’m trying.”

Bella nodded and gave him a soft smile. “How about you leave it to me? Let me talk to Naomi, you know we get on like a house on fire.”

He cupped her cheek in his hand, smoothing his thumb over her skin, and looked into her eyes. “love you.” His eyes were glassy and tears threatened to spill out of them.

“Love you too.” And she really did, he was her best friend, and she meant it wholeheartedly. “Leave it with me.”

He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and grabbed a stack of files from the nurses’ station. “Check in at 3 for coffee?” he asked, walking backwards and still smiling at her.

“Of course, go on, go … before Topher has your ass for dawdling.”

“You know, I kind of see why she thought you were having an affair.” Jordan’s whispering voice cut through Bella’s reverie, she’d completely forgotten the dark haired doctor was stood there, watching the whole exchange.

“Jesus Jordan, I forgot you were there.”

“Yeah you were far too wrapped up in the Michael and Bella show.” She grinned good naturedly, letting Bella know she was only playfully teasing. “Seriously though, you two have so much chemistry, what happened? Why aren’t you together?”

“There was just never a right time, and then he married Lydia, and now it’s too late.”

“Says who, you never got married, you’re both single now …”

Bella sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It’s complicated. When you’ve been in unrequited love for what, eighteen years, it’s a hard pattern to break. But I’m still here for when he needs me. I always will be.” She thought for a second, tapping her fingernails on the desk, “Jordan, I know Michael and TC have had their differences in the past, but would you two help me?”

Jordan smiled at her widely and slammed a folder shut. “Of course, leave the venue to me. I’ve got a few contacts.”

Bella felt her heart swell. “Thank you Jordan, I really appreciate it.”

Jordan shrugged “What are friends for? And right now, Michael needs his friends.”

“That he does.” Bella confirmed, digging her phone out of her pocket and dialling Naomi’s phone number. After a few rings the teen picked up.

“Hola Bella.”

“Hey Naomi-bean.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m looking at a birthday gift for you honey, what’s your dress and shoe size?”

***

When the clock ticked round to 7 am Bella found Michael standing at reception, he looked tired and worn, with black bags under his eyes.

“Hey you, you ok?” she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight, her chin resting on his shoulder.

“Mmhmm I got one thing right tonight, I found the pacemaker Kristin needed.” He shrugged, half hearted.

“That’s a great job, don’t undermine yourself.” She gave him a squeeze and he turned in her embrace, so he could slide his arms around her.

“She’s right, enough of a pity party out of you.” Jordan said as she came up to stand beside the pair of them. “Everyone is going out to dinner tonight, why don’t you come?”

“Are you going?” Ragosa asked Bella, he turned his face to look at her. They were so close their noses touched and their breath mingled.

“Of course I’m going, dummy, and so are you. You need it.”

Michael smiled and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers in a sweet gesture before diverting his attention back to Jordan.

“I’m buying!” she said, in a sing song voice, hoping it would convince him more.

“Well if you’re buying, then I’m in.” Jordan grinned triumphantly. “I do have to go home and get some rest though.”

“I think that’s a good idea Sugar. You look exhausted.” Bella ran her fingers through his dark hair, and he closed his eyes enjoying the gesture.

“Are you heading home now?” he asked her.

“No, I’ve got a few last minute rounds and care plans to go through with Jordan, then I’ll head home.”

He nodded and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek, too tired to argue. “Ring me later?”

“Of course, now get out of here, Mikey, before you get roped into the day shift too.”

“Ok Ok, bye.” He headed towards the door, waving at them as he left, shoulders heavy and head slouched.

Bella and Jordan waited a minute, to make sure that he was actually gone before rounding up the remaining nightshift members.

“Ok guys! First, I want to thank you all for your help. I know Michael will really appreciate it and be grateful that we’re treating him as family.” Bella started, there was a murmur of agreement that rippled around the gathered doctors and nurses.

“So you’ve all got your assignments from either myself, Bella or Kenny.” There was nodding all round. “We don’t have very long to pull this off, So let’s work together and make this amazing!”

There was a cheer in response.

“I think we can do better than that!” Jordan heckled and held her hand behind her ear. The staff obliged and cheered louder.

Bella felt a warm fuzzy feeling of happiness and excitement building in her belly. She had a long day ahead, but every moment was going to be worth it.

 *** 17:00 ***

“You won’t let me go in?” Michael asked Bella, as he looked past her to the double doors of the Dew Drop Inn, that had been blacked out. “What’s going on?”

Krista and Drew came through the doors carrying pale pink balloon displays and placed them on either side of the entry way.

“I told you to leave it to me, didn’t I?” Bella laughed, her smile warm, as she held Michael’s face in her hands, keeping his attention on her. “Well me, and a few friends.”

The doors opened and almost the whole of the night shift spilled out into the entry way, dressed in party wear.

“What did you …” Ragosa breathed, his eyes widened, but he was cut off by the roar of motorbikes.

Bella dropped her hands to hold his and indicated the swarm of motorbikes coming towards them.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Bella was smiling like a maniac as the realisation dawned across Ragosa’s handsome face.

In the middle of the parade of Bikes was TC, with Naomi clinging onto his jacket, but grinning and having the time of her life. Everyone around the whooped and cheered as the entourage came to a halt in front of them.

Michael opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, speechless.

“You did this?” When he found his voice, Michael was astounded, his tone showing how impressed he was. He linked his fingers with Bella’s and squeezed.

“We all did, Mikey. You’re part of the family now. We look out for each other. And you know I’d never have let you go through this alone.” She squeezed his hand back and indicated Naomi who was getting off the back of TC’s bike. “I think your attention is supposed to be over there.” He walked towards his daughter, but looked at her again over his shoulder, dark eyes sparkling.

“Thank you. All of you!” He raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, they all whooped and hollered again in response.

TC lead Naomi over to Michael and he wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head.

“This isn’t what I’d planned, but it’s still pretty cool!” the teen shrugged happily. “I got to ride on a motorcycle!”

“I see, I see” Michael said, eyeing TC with mock reproach. “Well I hope you enjoyed it, because it’s the last time you will!” he kissed his daughter on the forehead lovingly.

“But Bella used to have one, when you were in med school … You said she looked hot on it …”

“Oh-kay! Enough of that.” He cut her off with a wink and wide eyes. Bella, blushed and laughed.

Lydia cut her way through the crowd, glancing at Bella who fidgeted uncomfortably. “I’m not going to say I’m not still mad at you Michael, but you have some pretty amazing friends.”

Michael nodded at her, but didn’t say a word. He was determined to not spoil his princess’ special day.

“Ok everybody, let’s go inside!” Jordan shouted ushering everyone through the doors.

Bella stopped Michael and Naomi at the door, “You two have a wardrobe change. They’re hanging up in the bathrooms.”

Naomi made a squealing noise and pushed through the crowd desperate to get to her new dress.

Bella turned to go inside, but Michael grabbed her hand, holding her back so they were alone in the courtyard. “You never cease to amaze me. Do you know that?” He uttered, smoothing a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“Everyone deserves to be happy Michael.” She took the palm of his hand in hers and placed a kiss in the centre of it. “Even you.” Breaking the moment with a bright smile, she pulled him towards the doors. “Come on, we’ve got a party to attend.”

He shook his head and followed after her into the building, chuckling to himself.

 ***

Bella had also changed, once the party had gotten underway. She wore a intricate gold 50s style swing dress, with matching shoes, which splayed out nicely on her bar stool as she watched Michael and Naomi perform their father daughter dance.

“They look happy.” Jordan said, claiming the seat next to Bella, and grabbing a drink from the bar top.

“They do, we really did an amazing job. Thank you for all your help. I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you for all of this.” Bella waved her hands around at the bustling room where everyone was chatting and dancing happily, Michael and Naomi in the centre.

“There’s no need. We’re a family. It’s what we do. Though you could do one thing?”

Bella drained the last of the champagne from her glass and placed it back on the bar. “What’s that?”

“The next song, you can get up and dance with him. Tell him how you feel.”

“I … can’t … I” Bella stumbled, shaking her head. Jordan reached out and took her hand kindly.

“You keep saying that Michael deserves to be happy. So do you. And I think nothing would make either of you happier, than if you realised how much you love each other.  Even an idiot could look at the two of you and realise you’re meant to be together.”

“She’s right. I’ve never seen two people I think should be together more.” TC agreed, coming over and stealing a mouthful of Jordan’s drink.

“I completely agree!” said Krista popping up from behind the bar and giving Bella a wink.

“Are we talking about Bella and Ragosa’s obvious chemistry?” Topher asked, joining the little group.

Bella laughed uncomfortably. “Where did you all come from?”

 The end beats of the song Michael had picked for their father daughter dance came to an end, and Naomi gave her father a hug, splitting off to mingle with her friends, who were ooing and ahhing over her pink silk and taffeta dress. Michael looked over the little group of his friends by the bar and grinned happily. He walked over to the DJ, talking to him quietly.

 “Never mind that. We think you should.” Drew agreed, passing new drinks out to everyone.

“You make it sound so easy. We’ve both been through so much.”

“And that’s why you need eachother.” Jordan countered with a knowing smile.

The opening beats of the next song started to play, and Bella felt her heart swell, and tears form in her eyes. Michael smiled at her from by the DJ, starting to cut his way through the crowd towards her.

“What?” asked Krista, seeing the dewey look in Bella’s eyes.

“He remembered.” Bella laughed, sniffing slightly. “’When you say nothing at all’ by Ronan Keating, I told Michael once I loved this song, and it would be my perfect first dance …”

“Do you need more of a sign?” Topher asked jokingly, dodging out the way when Bella swatted at him, laughing.

“May I steal her away?” Michael’s voice commanded her attention as he stood in front of her. their friends all nodded avidly. “Dance with me?” This time his question was aimed directly at Bella. His beautiful dark eyes searching for hers and his hand outstretched for her to take.

She took it without a word and let him draw her body into his. He wrapped one arm around the small of her back and held her and in his. Their faces were so close they could feel one another’s breath on their cheeks.

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did Bel, I remember everything you’ve ever said to me. You’re so special to me, you know. Whenever I need you, you’re there. You’re my shelter in any storm.”

They moved gently around the dance floor.

“You know when I tell you I love you, I mean it. Not in the platonic, you’re my best friend love, even though, I do and you are. I love you. I always have.”

She stopped them from moving, and leaned against him, looking up into his eyes.

“I’ve always loved you too. You are my person, you know that Mikey.”

Michael, smiled, and leaned down pressing his lips against hers, in a tentative kiss. Bella grabbed his lapels and pulled him to her, deepening his kiss. He wound his fingers into her hair, as he slid his tongue over her bottom lip, begging for entrance.

Cheering erupted from the night shift staff, and Bell and Michael pulled apart, looking at each other sheepishly.

“It’s about bloody time!” Naomi called from across the room with a big grin on her face.

@reelovesbennycolon​

[benvoliosantodomingo]

@portiaphan asked for / actually friends au  mentioned / @romroses 

the apartment of jack hawthorne, oxfordshire, england / before

the sound of his phone vibrating against the nightstand rouses bellamy from sleep. jack makes a soft sound that might be an acknowledgement that something is happening, but might also be nothing more than an exhale of breath, and his hand tightens where it’s gently curled around the skin of bellamy’s hip, before it relaxes again. he smiles, and for a moment he is keen to ignore the instance of the intrusion--he closes his eyes again and focuses on the warmth of the contact, of the body pressed up against his spine, and for a moment he is lost to the memory of the night before.

i’ll be the first to admit that it’s cliche, jack had said, his lips and teeth stained by the wine. but i think you’re the most real and present person that i have ever met. bellamy had rolled his eyes and declared that such phrasing was cliche, and that someone with the level of education that his boyfriend possessed was capable of doing so much better--and then jack had smiled, in that way he always did. open and inviting, and yet somehow teasing--as if between his lips was the answer to every question bellamy could ever think to ask, if only he could conjure the correct phrasing. he had smiled and pressed his lips to bellamy’s jaw, followed the curve of the bone all the way to his lips. no, he had said. i think terribly real is the best way i could think to describe you. warm to the touch in a way that no one else is, at home inside of the cathedral of yourself. the sun in constant orbit, perhaps.

he feels the corner of his lips pulling up in a lazy smile, and he has a half formed idea that involves rolling over and seeing what else he can conjure out of the mouth of the poet, when the sound of the phone going off again begins to register. he huffs out an annoyed breath, and brings the screen close to his face, in an effort to assist his still heavy with sleep eyes.

three texts from marcelo, ten from roman, a missed call from odessa, one from paola and henry a piece, and two missed calls from pandora.

he drags a hand over his face and exhales slowly, before pressing a kiss between jack’s eyes and somehow managing to bring himself to his feet, and subsequently the kitchen. the sun, or at least, what passes for sun in england, is just beginning to rise as he fills the kettle with water and carefully places it on the stove, and he comes to the conclusion that it is far too early, relative to the amount of wine he consumed the night before.

he leans against the kitchen counter and presses pandora’s name on the screen. it's best to begin the process of healing whatever new wound verona has chosen to deal out with a modicum of truth--before he makes his way to whatever fantastic recollection his two best friends will inevitably share between them.

“bellamy,” she answers, and her voice is rough around the edges--tired in a way she doesn’t normally allow others to glimpse. “have you talked to anyone else, yet?”

“no,” he immediately starts to feel the familiar mixture of emotion in the pit of his stomach--something like survivor’s guilt, mixed with sadness and something that might be residual anger at the life they were all thrown into, at the city that brought them into adulthood exhausted, sharp edged in an effort to draw attention away from each tender bruise. “you were the first call i made--is everything all right?”

she is silent for a long moment, during which bellamy’s mind begins the process of coming to terms with about a dozen horrible possible scenarios. finally he hears the sound of a long exhale of breath, as if his friend is attempting to steel herself for something. for as long as he’s known her, pandora phan has been afraid of nothing--what could she possibly have to tell him that would require so much courage?

“are you sitting down?” she asks, and bellamy groans.

“just tell me--if something happened--” he huffs out a breath and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “i’ll come home, i’ll help in any way i can--just tell me, so that we can get the hard part out of the way.”

she pauses again, before she speaks. “i wanted you to hear it from me, first. roman and i announced our engagement last night. or well--damiano, and my family, announced it to roman and i. bellamy--” there’s an emotion in her voice that he can’t quite place, that he hasn’t heard from her before--he’s not sure, he’s too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the sudden roaring in his own chest. “bellamy, you have to know that we had nothing to do with it. we can’t just say no to these things.”

i’m sorry, he wants to say. i love you dearly, but i can’t really process this information right now. for some reason, it feels like the floor, perhaps the earth itself, has suddenly given way underneath my feet. can i call you back?

i’m sorry, he wants to say. i love you dearly, but i can’t. not when it's him. you understand, right? no? i don’t really either. does it feel like the miles of distance between us has suddenly compounded in the center of your chest, as well?

i’m sorry, he wants to say, for reasons he can’t quite articulate.

instead, he chuckles, and he’s certain that the sound is the furthest thing from genuine. “panda--i’m happy for you, really. i’m glad that it's you.”

he notices then that his fingers are gripped tightly on the edge of the counter, that the tea kettle has been hissing steam and making noise for long enough to draw jack out of the bedroom, wearing a pair of bellamy’s pajama bottoms, his bleach blonde hair sticking up in odd angles that on any other morning, bellamy would gladly take the time to smooth out with a gentle hand.

“damiano is throwing a party, about a month from now.” pandora says, though bellamy has trouble processing the words--the sound of her voice suddenly seems at odds with the life that bellamy has constructed for himself here. his life that’s filled with books, the sound of rain falling gently against a pane of glass, laughter followed by the honeyed words of a poet--verona seems like it should be on an entirely different celestial body from that life, not on the other end of a red string, pulling on his wrist. “we’d both like you to be there, if you can make it. bring your english boy with you--i know everyone would love to meet him. i’d love to meet him.”

he can hear her smile on the other end--he can almost see it too. determined, all teeth, only sad around the edges if you know to look for it. “of course i’ll be there--you’re two of my best friends. i wouldn’t miss it.” he smiles in return, and hopes she can hear it in the same way, hopes maybe she’ll imagine it happier, than it is in actuality.

“it will be good to see you. take care of yourself until then, bellamy.”

“you too, panda.”

he sets his phone down on the countertop, before accepting the mug of tea that jack presses into his hands. warm, but not quite real, at this particular moment in time. “what was that about?” his boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

he hesitates--taps his fingers against the mug. it's emblazoned with the logo of a play they’d seen together on the west end a week ago--it's been bellamy’s favorite, ever since. he sets it down carefully next to his phone, and shrugs one shoulder. “two of my friends from back home just got engaged. i’m thinking about flying out for the party.”

jack smiles warmly, gently rests a hand on bellamy’s shoulder, before it moves up his neck, cards through the short hair at the base. “that will be the first time you’ve been home in a while, won’t it? i can come with you, if you’d like.”

bellamy shakes his head. “i’ll be fine. i don’t plan on staying.”

the home of damiano montague, verona, italy / before

damiano montague towers over his guests, an image that is almost comically opposed to the glimmering crystal of the champagne flute in his hand. its clear to everyone invited that he is proud of his son, of the woman they’ll welcome into their family sooner rather than later, and it's clear to everyone invited that the young couple are a good match for one another--surely the montague empire will only flourish, once the uncrowned king and queen of verona ascend to their rightful thrones, once the mind of pandora phan is united in matrimony and purpose with the charm and energy of roman montague. it hardly needs to be said, and yet damiano still smiles, taps his knife against his glass, and declares that he would like to propose a toast.

bellamy takes the opportunity to wrap his jacket around odessa’s shoulders, and make a half hearted excuse about needing some air.

he steps out into the massive expanse of the montague garden, which has been strung up with an innumerable amount of fairy lights for the occasion. the night air is cool, as opposed to the oppressive heat of people pressed together inside, and the setting is almost beautiful--but he can’t un-know what’s happening inside, behind the door he now has his back to. he can’t un-know how he feels about it, either.

once, he had known the exact number of steps it took to gain enough momentum to push himself over the gate nearest to roman’s room. once, he had known the exact number of steps it took to get from the other side of that gate to the trellis that just to happened to climb just underneath his best friend’s bedroom window. it had seemed vital then, to know such things--now, as he wanders through the foliage, yet again trying to stay hidden away from view, it feels half remembered, unimportant.

why would he choose the boy who had been so desperate to be close to him that he had memorized every detail of the process, to the point of it being damn near muscle memory?

he throws back what remains of his champagne, startles at a hand on his shoulder.

pandora smiles, presses a kiss to his cheek. she’s holding both of her shoes, and wearing a black zip up hoodie over her dress. “i--wasn’t feeling well.” he tries to say, in way of explanation. “didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“it’s all right.” she says, in a tone of voice that is kinder than it has any right to be, all things considered. “i can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be, to suddenly be back in the belly of the beast.” she leans her head on his shoulder. “i’m glad you came, bellamy.”

he exhales, a shaky release of breath that suddenly feels trapped and hard to draw. “of course--it’s not every day that two of your best friends get engaged, after all. what kind of person would i be if i missed this?”

she shakes her head, wraps her arms around his middle. “one with self preservation instincts, bell.” he hugs her in return, presses a kiss to the top of her head. her voice is quiet, meant for only bellamy to hear, in comparison to her usual concise and cutting manner of speaking. “i’m so sorry. i see how you look at him. i know how he talks about you. if he had a choice--”

her voice trails off, and bellamy bites down hard on his bottom lip, until he can taste copper on his tongue.

“i should be the one apologizing to you.” he murmurs, after an indeterminate amount of time has passed. maybe an eternity, maybe only a few minutes. “i wish i could stop--but i think--” he chuckles, though it’s a hoarse sound, like sandpaper rubbing against brick. “i think i’ve felt this way longer than i’ve known that i have.”

he inhales and exhales slowly, rubs a hand gently over her shoulder. “i’m going back to england tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about me.”

she pulls away, in an effort to meet his gaze properly. “don’t be an idiot, bellamy santo-domingo.” she shoves at him playfully, before she rests both of her hands on his chest. “i am always going to worry about you. but you should know, that until--i don’t know, whatever happens--i won’t hurt him.”

she hugs him again, and he rests his chin on top of her head. “just--don’t stay away too long, okay? he misses you more than you know.”

she laughs, and lets out a long and dramatic exhale of breath. “if we don’t get back in there, people are going to get suspicious of the wrong thing.”

her offers her his arm, and together, they head back in the direction of the house.

[ampharos-writes]

Welcome Home

Statement #0160604 Author’s Name: Andrea Roberson Nature of Incident: The death of her childhood friend Apollo Byrne Date and Location: June 21, 2010, Casper, Wyoming, USA Date of Statement: September 19th, 2014

Statement

First of, no, of COURSE that wasn’t his real name. We were from… well, anywhere in Wyoming is “small town” Wyoming, but you get the picture. No, his real name was Ezekiel Jones. Frankly, I don’t think he even really needed to change it in the first place - Zeke Jones is pretty punchy, ZJ are cool initials for an autograph, stuff like that - but I’m pretty sure he hated being reminded of where he came from. Of who he was.

See, Zeke… Apollo, rather, was Mormon by birth. His parents had migrated up from Utah when their fortunes went down and their rent went up, and they’d been living just outside of Casper for something like 30 or 40 years when Apollo came around. The Joneses were simple folk. They had a small farm, just enough to make a living off of, and they kept to themselves. Quiet family. Not like Apollo. He was always loud, in-your-face, always fired up about something-or-other, always looking to live life as largely as he could possibly muster.

I’m not even sure how we became friends, really. We didn’t have that much in common. But there was something so… warm about him, so congenial, so inviting. He was easy to talk to. He was fun. And believe me, fun was hard to come by in Casper, but Apollo found a way. We found a way. For basically the entirety of our school days, we were best friends… and occasionally more than that, though in the end we mutually decided that wasn’t gonna work out.

I still remember the day he left. It was the summer after our senior year of college. I was planning on heading down to Boulder to study Biochem, and Apollo was… well, I don’t think he was quite sure what he wanted to do with his life. He had big dreams, that was for sure, but they were always just that, and I think I always kind of suspected that he would eventually settle down into that farm life he had always hated so much. I didn’t WANT him to, but I thought he would.

He didn’t, though. When he came to our usual meetup spot that day, it was hot enough that I was sweating through my t-shirt, but it was the only time I had seen Apollo look… cold. He didn’t say a word to me, just leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette, gaze fixed hard on something in the distance, something only he could see. I didn’t say anything either. We just sat there, frozen in time and space.

Eventually, he did speak, in a hoarse whisper almost too soft for me to hear. “I’m leaving,” he said. “California.”

We both knew he didn’t have the money to go to California. We both knew it didn’t matter. He’d find a way.

He threw his cigarette on the ground, stomped it out, then suddenly pulled me in hard for a hug. I couldn’t say how long it lasted. All I remember was the stillness of the moment, the warmth of the tears running down his cheeks. It was an instant, and it was an eternity.

And then he left. He walked away, and that was the last that I - or anyone - ever saw of Ezekiel Jones.

It certainly wasn’t the end of Apollo Byrne, of course. Everyone knows HIS story by now - one day he’s nobody, the next he’s got his big break in that one indie flick, and suddenly he’s Hollywood’s new heartthrob. A world renowned partier, philanthropist, and flirt - though he always stopped short of actually engaging in romantic contact with another person, so much so that he never even so much as kissed another actress on screen. I always thought that was somewhat odd. So yeah, the story of Apollo Byrne the movie star’s been done to death, but here’s the thing: I’m the only one who knows how it ends. How it [i]really[/i] ends.

ET did an interview with him, right before he… yknow. It was after they wrapped filming on his last flick, some action movie or other. They asked him what he was gonna do between then and the premiere, and he said that he had some things to sort out. That he was going home. I’m not much of an ET watcher, but I happened to have it on in the background the night that it aired. I was living in Denver at the time, and my parents were still in Casper, so it wasn’t that big a hassle to take some time off work and stay with them for a week or two. I told them I wanted to see them, of course, but also that I wanted to catch up with old friends. I didn’t mention Apollo by name. I’m still not sure why.

It was on the morning of my second day in Casper that I realized I didn’t actually know how I was gonna track Apollo down. He had to deal with paparazzi all the time, of course, but he had always been coy about which small town he was really from, so it was unlikely they’d track him this far, which meant I was on my own. Would he go to his parents? Something about the thought made me uneasy. He hadn’t complained about them [i]that[/i] much when we were kids, but he always seemed… disdainful, I think, of them and their lifestyle. Still, it wasn’t like I had any other leads, and I figured maybe they had at least kept in touch to SOME degree.

The fire had already started by the time I got there.

There was a stiff prairie breeze pushing the smoke steadily out into the open country, so it wasn’t a surprise that I was the first one on the scene, but the fact that there was a scene at all sent me into immediate shock. I had only been over here two or three times before, but it was so strongly associated with someone I had once cared so deeply about that to see it going up in flames was like a red-hot poker straight to my gut. I didn’t even think to call 911. I might have dropped my phone, I’m not even sure. All I know is that all of a sudden my legs were moving of their own volition, carrying me towards the roiling inferno, desperate to discover and rescue whoever might be inside.

The heat hit me before I was even inside, like opening an oven to check the readiness of the contents, but growing steadily more persistent, more intolerable, with each step I took towards the house. The acrid stench of smoke filled my nostrils as I slipped through the warped entryway, and I quickly wrapped my shirt around my face. Time was not on my side, and I quickly maneuvered past embers and debris, calling out when I dared, searching for anyone who might be trapped inside. 

Finding nobody on the first floor, I sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time to minimize my chances of stepping on the wrong one in the wrong way. As I rose, so did the temperature, growing hotter than I had previously thought possible. I recall thinking vaguely that the fire must have started on the second floor, but I quickly cleared the thought from my brain. It wasn’t important at the moment. What was important was making sure that whoever was in here (and for some reason, I was convinced that SOMEONE must be in here) would be OK. I moved down the hallway one room at a time, peeking through doorways when I was able, kicking down doors when I was not. Each room I checked was empty, and eventually I found myself face to face with the only unexamined room in the house: the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The doorframe was warped, blackened, and cracking under the pressure, with the interior of the cracks glowing the same angry red as the handle of the door. I ignored it, of course, and kicked it down.

Inside the room stood Apollo Byrne.

He stood shirtless, with his back to me. A thin sheen of sweat covered the tanned flesh, though it was somewhat… less than I would expect, given the conditions. His normally perfectly-coiffed hair was damp. He wasn’t doing anything. He was just… standing there. This was odd, of course, but my brain wasn’t quite processing on that level, and instinct took over as I called out to him, part of me relieved to see him and part of me rapidly panicking as I realized that he was in imminent danger.

He stiffened as he heard me call, and for a moment did nothing, but then he began to turn, and as he did so I was struck by the odd realization that I hadn’t seen him shirtless since high school, even amidst all the action films he had been involved in throughout the years. And when he finally turned around I saw why.

Exactly centered on his stomach, burned into the flesh, were the letters “J. F. F.” Jones Family Farms. His father’s personal brand.

That was, of course, the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was his face. He didn’t look flushed, didn’t look like he had been exerting himself, didn’t expect to look anything like you would expect someone who had been trapped in a house fire to look. His mouth was grinning, his teeth that Hollywood white, unblemished by plaque nor ash nor soot. His eyes were crying, the tears turning to steam on his cheeks.

The third thing I noticed were the charred and blackened corpses at his feet. I didn’t recognize them. Even the greatest medical examiner on the planet wouldn’t have been able to recognize them. But I didn’t have to be able to recognize them to know them.

Apollo was still looking at me as my eyes drifted back up to return his gaze. After a moment, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and took a puff. I hadn’t seen him take out a light.

Still grinning, still crying, he looked me dead in the eye and said, “You should go.” And I did.

I didn’t look back as I walked away from the Jones family homestead, but I did listen. I listened to the crackle of flames as they licked at the aging wood of the well-loved home. I listened to the occasional crash of a piece of the second floor falling to the first, or of a door finally losing the battle against its own frame. I listened to the dull roar of the thick black smoke as it trailed off into the clear blue sky. And I listened to the long, terrible, agonizing scream as for the final time in his life, Apollo burned.

Supplementary Comments

Well this is… interesting, to say the least. Receiving statements about celebrities always is, and it happens more frequently than one would think.

Apollo Byrne, born Ezekiel Jones, famously perished in a fire while visiting his family home in Casper on June 21st 2010, alongside both of his parents. He was an only child, and left behind no romantic partner or children of his own. The fire was discovered late in the day by a USPS driver come to deliver the day’s mail, and by then it was far too late to save the house or anyone inside.

Mrs. Andrea Roberson bears no apparent connection to Mr. Byrne save for their shared origin in Casper. At no point in the immediate aftermath of the events described did she attempt to take her story public, and at no point prior did she confide in anyone about her past relationship with Mr. Byrne. We can assume that a possible exception was her wife, one Shirley Chau, but she passed away in late 2012, apparently after a mishap in the kitchen of the restaurant she worked at.

Ara is attempting to secure permission for us to interview Mrs. Roberson, but doing so may be tricky, as the latter is currently serving a 30 year sentence in the Colorado State Penitentiary after multiple felony arson convictions.

-Amy A. Ampharos, Head Archivist February 21st, 2017

[theherothechampiontheinquisitor]

12.16.1991 - Chapter 1

Rated: G - Canon Typical Violence

Realtionships: Pepperony, Howard/Maria Stark, Iron Dad, Rhodey & Tony Friendship

Summary: On December 16th, 1991 Howard and Maria Stark were killed in a tragic car accident. Or at least that's what their son and the world is left to believe. 25 years later, Helmut Zemo lures Tony, Steve and Bucky into a Siberian Hydra base to reunite a family...and use The Winter Soldier to destroy it once and for all.

OR

Howard and Maria were kidnapped by The Winter Soldier and forced to work for Hydra. Through a turn of events they are reunited with Tony, and Howard sets out to make good on the promise he made to himself when he was captured...to begin the long road of making amends with his son.

Some additional thoughts/warnings: This is Howard Stark friendly. I know a lot of people hate him and there's comics where the character is abusive to Tony and Maria but that's not this world. I am going singularly off of the Howard Stark presented to us in Agent Carter and the brief glimpses in the MCU. Do I think Howard was a good parent? No. He has definitely made a lot of mistakes, but I don't think he is an irredeemable monster either. The second half of the story will be him trying to fix things with Tony and working through why he behaved so distantly. If that is not your bag then I can't say you'll enjoy this. Please don't come at me with Howard hate.

Not everything will be exactly like the movies.

Also HUGE HUGE thank you to @takadasaiko, my faithful cheerleader, idea giver, all around fantastic motivator. I would have never gotten this far without your help and our mutual appreciation for layered characters. <3

READ IT ON AO3

***********

December 16th, 1991

“Asset?”

The voice brought him out of his daze, thoughts finally cleared and focused, pain falling away like a mask from someone else’s body. His cold eyes focused on the man before him.

“Ready to comply,” came the hoarse rasp that always accompanied his awakenings.

“Mission critical. Search and retrieve. First the serums and then the witnesses. I want them brought in alive.”

He nodded his head affirmatively. This would be an easy task.

“Mission marks?”

The scientist smiled slowly exposing crooked and slightly yellowed teeth. “Howard and Maria Stark.” He waited to see if the name would spark any recognition but the Winter Soldier’s face was expressionless as always. “There is a son… Anthony. We are not concerned about him. Do not engage.”

The assassin nodded in acknowledgement and stood, his restraints having finally been removed. His metal arm felt stiff and he rotated it around until he had full range of motion. He towered before the scientist but the man showed no visible fear aside from the quiet rise and fall of his throat as he gulped back a breath of air.

“Mission launch time?”

“Tonight. Prepare yourself.”

The soldier nodded. He had his orders and he knew what he must do. Soon Howard and Maria Stark would be nothing but a ghost of a memory to the world. He needed to prepare.

***

The short ride from the house and to SHIELD headquarters had mostly been silent and Howard knew enough that it meant he was in trouble. He stole glances across the car to his wife but she remained glued to the window, watching as small flakes of snow began to fall over the road.

He reached out to take her hand but she didn't let his touch linger. She pulled away and rested her hands back in her lap and out of his reach.

"Maria…" he sighed. This was not how their vacation was supposed to begin. Of course it also wasn't supposed to involve him transporting a possible trial replication of the super soldier serum either, but he had a job to do too. All he had to do was work now and he'd be free to shoot golf and spend time with his wife by the time their plane landed in the Bahamas.

"It would be helpful to know what I've done so that I can begin to make amends for it and skip the sulking altogether," he offered in the darkness. It was difficult to discern her features in the dark, the only light coming from the street lamps brief flashes as they drove the winding road.  

Howard had been married long enough however to instantly recognize that particular glare and upturned lip she leveled him with.

It was about the boy.  It always seemed to be these days.  So, he waited, allowing her to gather her thoughts in the silence. Maria was never one to hold back long.

He wracked his mind in the meantime of all his interactions with Tony since he'd returned from Europe on Friday. They'd exchanged a couple barbs and sarcastic comments but this was positively tame compared to how they normally got on. Neither of them had even raised their voices once.

The next bend came across steeper and Howard adjusted his speed in the winter weather.  He didn't need them to get into a car accident on top of the already heavy atmosphere he found himself faced with.

"Would it kill you to say something kind to him, just once? It's Christmas," Maria exclaimed as if that was the answer to repairing the chasm between father and son.

He resisted rolling his eyes knowing it would only make her more upset. Tony had always been a delicate subject between them. He was her baby, 21 years old and throwing toga parties behind their back or not.  She always saw him as that wide eyed baby boy she brought screaming into this world.  

Howard used to be envious of their effortless connection. They always understood each other without words and yet Howard for all his genius couldn't even break through the defenses to his son who was so much like himself. He told himself it wasn't from lack of trying but he would be kidding himself. The best he could do was a half drunken confession on an 8mm Tony would probably never see. Or even want to see at this rate.

He never was able to dwell on their relationship for too long. There was always something else he needed to do for Shield, some other invention that Obadiah was breathing down his neck about to create or a tip about the possible crash site of his long gone best friend, Steve Rogers. Tony fell away to the back burner more and more until Howard blinked and his son no longer wanted his attention.

"What did you want me to say Maria?" He asked tiredly, the subject of his failed parenting sapping his energy. "Thank you Tony, for not making international headlines for the second time this year, the PR team appreciates the break? He's not a child anymore Maria. He needs to be preparing to be a CEO, not a Playgirl cover model."

That had been a fun and unexpected month of damage control when that surprise magazine cover dropped to newsstands.

"How many times do I have to tell you that he's acting out for you? He's desperate for your attention Howard, and you're hardly one to be judging lifestyle choices. I seem to remember you not being much different around his age," she reminded him, eyes not leaving his face, daring him to refute her comments.

"Before I met you perhaps, " he conceded.  "Before we lost Cap…" Howard shook his head once to clear it even as his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. Even now Steve Rogers was a sore subject. A constant reminder of his first greatest failure in life.

Maria softened a little and reached for him, her hand offering his thigh a gentle squeeze.  "An I love you goes a long way, you know? It won't fix everything but I refuse to believe that this can't be mended Howard. Talk to him. Really talk to him. He loves you so much and you won't let him show it. God forbid if something were to happen…would you really want that interaction this morning to be the last words you said to him? Think about it."

Howard said nothing, keeping his eyes trained on the road, windshield wipers turned up as the snow fell harder. He really needed to get them to the airfield before they ended up stranded on these lonely back roads.  There were no chains on their tires and they'd surely be stuck if it continued sticking to the road.

He wanted to argue with Maria,  tell her she was wrong, but she hadn't been wrong in their marriage yet. Tony was crying out for help, negative attention being better than no attention at all.  He should know. He had done the same to his father, for all the good it had done. His father died before Howard could ever make something of himself.

Christ he needed a drink, but that would have to wait until they made it to their plane. He increased the pressure on the gas slightly, Maria's words filling his mind.

***

The Winter Soldier watched as the Stark's Lincoln passed by the dark bend of road where he lay lurking in patience. As soon as they were around the bend he turned his motorcycle on with a rumble, light shining across the snowy road.

The cold had never bothered him and he found it easy to increase his speed to match the vehicle in the distance. He trekked safely behind them at first,  watching and waiting for the narrow stretch of road he'd make his move on.

***

The car had been silent since Maria's last request. She had resumed looking out the window dutifully until her eyes slowly grew heavier and closed altogether.

Howard loved watching her as she slept. For a moment all the cares and worries were gone from her face, wrinkles turning to smooth skin. She looked younger. Happier. A disconcerting thought that her happiest moments lie in the hours she was not awake, and Howard knew he had to try harder. If only for her.  

He didn't think much of the vehicle that came up behind them, seemingly out of nowhere. These roads were quiet but well used. He adjusted the rear-view mirror as the vehicle's headlight burned bright into the front end, making it difficult to see.

Asshole.

The vehicle continued trailing them, but soon picked up the pace, alternating between riding on their bumper and backing off. Howard didn't like this at all. He had one hand on the car phone in the center console when the vehicle made its move.

It was a motorcycle and it swung around to the passenger side with skill and ease, the slippery roads seemingly having no effect on its capabilities.

Howard pulled the phone off the hook immediately and held down on the number 1 speed dial to Peggy Carter.  

The man on the motorcycle used that time to attack and brought a glint of metal crashing against the back passenger window.

The hit was powerful. Howard dropped the receiver to the floor, both hands flying to the wheel trying to steady the already swerving vehicle, but it was no use, the brakes had locked up and were unable to gain traction on the snow covered roads. Howard could only hope to lessen the speed of their impact.

The last thing that went through Howard Stark's mind, as the metal impacted upon the tree trunk, was not the terrified cry of his name from Maria or the loud voice calling his name from the receiver of the dropped phone.

It was an image of his son the last time he saw him, Christmas hat jauntily covering his face,  wearing that old Mister Softees ice cream shirt that Howard had always hated but Tony had always loved.

And he thought, maybe an I love you every now and then wouldn't have been so hard.

Instead, he knew, his son would always wonder if his father had ever cared about him at all.

***

The Winter Soldier watched satisfactorily as the vehicle swerved off to the side of the road and into a tree. A severe impact but not fatal. He passed by them and then looped back around, pulling off the road a safe distance away.

He detected movement from the front seat as he approached the vehicle, but it was slow and dazed. They were no threat to him as he crashed his metal arm against the trunk and opened it. He pushed aside golf clubs and suitcases of clothing until he found what he was looking for.

The slightest indentation of fabric revealed the false trunk bottom and directly beneath was a silver suitcase.

He heard a thump from the driver side door and shuffling through the snow but it didn't matter. The suitcase was opened and the serum contents confirmed. The soldier removed the case and gently replaced the false bottom, smoothing the panel out and covering it back up.

"Maria...help my wife," the dazed voice rang out, not realizing he called out to his enemy.

The soldier looked the white haired man over finally approaching and grasping the man's head in his palm, forcing him to look up. He was bleeding from a head wound and from some cuts where glass had hit his face but he would be fine. His mission was a success.

***

"Please help her…" Howard heaved out to the stranger again, desperately trying to catch his breath in the cold air.

When his eyes were finally able to focus his confusion only grew.

"Sergeant Barnes?" Impossible. He had been dead for over thirty years now.

The Winter Soldier froze for the slightest moment, a spark of recognition lighting in the back of his mind as Bucky screamed to break free. Unnerved he shook it off, quashing the memory.

"Marks ready for transport. The serums are accounted for," he spoke into a small communication device hidden in his sleeve.

Howard shook his head again trying to swim through his confusion to grasp hold of the situation.

"The serums?" He looked and saw the silver suitcase in the man's mechanical hand. This was bad. He had to get those back. Get Maria, get the serums and get the hell out of here and to safety.

"Howard?" He heard his wife’s voice croak miserably from the car.

"Stay," the soldier said releasing his head with a shove, sending his body down into the snow and began making his way around to the passenger side of the car.

"No. Leave her alone," he called weakly. His ribs screamed in protest as he tried to right his body but he had to protect his wife. And he needed to get the phone. He needed to call Peggy. She would help them. She always did. He turned and began to pull his battered body forward towards the open driver's side door.

Maria Stark sat in the passenger seat and looked up at the winter soldier in terror. She also had bleeding from her head but she seemed more in shock than anything. She screamed as he reached in and pulled her from the car,  Howard’s name on her lips as she struggled vainly.

The soldier came around the car and threw the woman to the ground quickly when he realized Howard had moved from his position and was reaching for something inside. He grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tossed him backwards again before inspecting the inside of the vehicle.

There on the floor a phone receiver dangled precariously. He grasped it with his metal arm and held it to his ear, listening for anyone on the other end. There was nothing but silence. He lingered a moment longer before placing it back on the hook in the center console.

A dark van came to a halting stop in the road, several men in dark clothes jumping out and removing what looked to be two large body bags. The ones not busy with the bags rushed across the road and the winter soldier supervised as they grabbed the injured Stark's and hauled them to their feet, leading them towards the vehicle.

Howard Stark struggled against the Hydra agents as they lead him, and the winter soldier delivered a swift blow to his side. The man groaned and was involuntarily compliant after that.

The pair were loaded into the back of the vehicle, roughly, the soldier monitoring the scene.

"You won't get away with this," Howard mustered through measured breaths, eyes scanning over the familiar man.

"We'll see," came the quiet response before black hoods were shoved over the couple's heads and the door was slammed shut in finality.

***

Peggy Carter had been getting ready for bed when her phone began ringing. Only a few people would call her so late at night and only one of them was on a mission of sorts.

"Howard?"

No sooner had she spoke before she heard the sound of what could only be Maria in the background calling out for Howard before there was a loud crashing noise.

Peggy nearly dropped the phone the crash was so deafening.

Instantly she jumped into action, thankful now for the new cordless phone Howard had introduced her to. She moved to her 2nd phone line and dialed into Shield. She called for a trace to be placed on the first line, hazard of the job, to narrow down the pair's location and a team to be on standby as soon as the trace came through.

Peggy tried calling out to Howard a couple times but it was clear he couldn't hear anything she was saying. She heard some more indistinct chatter in the background and so remained still, listening for anything that could give away the location or what was happening.

She held her breath when a deep breath came through the receiver, Peggy sat there like that, not daring to make a single noise. Then there was a click and a dial tone as the phone was disconnected.

Peggy let out a deep breath, anxiety welling within her at whatever had just transpired. She could only hope that they had enough time for the trace.

[stylesmyth]

FLOURISHED SUN

London, England 3rd of November, 2011

“Does anyone know why I’m missing fifteen students on a Thursday morning?” Mrs. Garino asks, standing by the electronic whiteboard at the front of the class, arms crossed. The final morning bell races in echoes down the hall and into classrooms, signalling the start of the school day. “Is there an eight AM rave that I’m not aware of?”

          A few tired chuckles come from my classmates, but no one offers any explanation. As I sit in the second row, I have to turn around to see that, indeed, there are quite a few desks empty. The one I focus on, though—a row to my left, two desks back—relieves me from the worry I’ve felt since stepping out of my car and onto the school grounds earlier this morning. Ernest Winland, with unruly brown hair falling along his forehead, is slouched in his seat, fiddling with a pen between his fingers. If I knew no better, I would believe he has been sitting there for half an hour. But I do know better, and since he didn’t meet me in the school yard or walk with me to class, like most mornings, I know he likely overslept and arrived by the skin of his teeth.

          He catches my gaze and knows he can’t fool me with his calm demeanour. As if he’s certain that I will have questions about his tardiness, he mouths later, and winks. Even after a year of us being together, Ernie never fails at being able to send my freckled cheeks blushing the colour of my hair.

          I turn around as Mrs. Garino sighs. “Regardless, class shall continue as normal. So, if everyone will please direct their attention to the board, we’ll watch the morning announcements and go from there.”

           Many classes skip over watching the announcements each morning, believing they take away too much time that could be spent teaching. But as this class focuses on many current events, local and worldwide, it’s mandatory to watch them every morning. Mrs. Garino turns off the lights, allowing what little sun peeking through the early November overcast to stream through the open blinds. Soon, even that’s cancelled out by the glow of the projector hitting the white board, and the video starts playing.

           The student director of the school newspaper also doubles as the host of the announcements, wearing a button-down shirt, bowtie, and glasses. A model student. Even his accent sounds posher and over enthused during the video.

“Goooood morning, students! It is officially Friday Eve, which means the weekend is so nearly here, but we can’t get excited just yet. Though, what we can get excited for is Taco Thursday. Who’s with me?!”

           A silly animated illustration flashes up of two dancing tacos and confetti. An unconvincing cheer comes from one student in the back before the host returns into the frame.

           “But without further ado, let’s get into the news, shall we? Prime Minister Burrell stood before Parliament yesterday to propose a new law on immigration…”

           On cue, I divert my eyes and doodle in the margins of my paper to feign boredom. I get to the second eye of a face before my phone buzzes. I only reach for it when I know Mrs. Garino is occupied with the announcements.

           Ernie: please direct your attention to the screen, Miss Francie Pants. I might have to call your father if you keep misbehaving like this!

           My eyes roll at his nickname for me—derived from my middle name, Francesca—but I don’t give him the satisfaction of turning around to do it at him.

           Delaney: bugger off will ya? I’m trying to listen to the news

           As I look back up, the segment about the Prime Minister seems to have finished. I stow my phone away.

           “Now, I know we’ve been hearing a lot of worrying news out of America recently, but here’s something that might shine some light for the whole world! The head scientist at the University of Massachusetts Medical School has announced major steps in creating a cure for Down Syndrome. The cure, according to the scientist, is meant to neutralise the extra copy of the twenty-first chromosome. This study has been ongoing for many years, with copious amounts of information discovered by the University. All documentations and reports can be accessed on the University’s website, if you’re interested in researching more of this.

           “Before signing off, I want to advise all students and teachers to practice good hygiene because a virus is currently making its rounds in the city. It is not airborne, but can be spread from close contact between people.”

           The host begins to say goodbye as a cough sounds behind me. I look back at Ernie, who coughs again, with quizzical eyes. Are you sick? I mouth as the lights come back on. It would explain why he didn’t arrive at school at his usual time, but he shakes his head and mouths back whilst pointing to his neck: there’s something in my throat.

        ��  “Miss Burrell,” Mrs. Garino calls. I snap my head forward to look at her, feeling like disappearing with her use of my last name. I know almost all eyes are on me at the sound of my last name, an unnecessary reminder to my schoolmates of who my father is. “I suggest you not let Mr. Winland distract you if you want to pass my class. Eyes up front, everyone.”

           I sink into my seat and start doodling again.

***

           After the last class of the day, mine being math and his being gym, Ernie walks with me to my car, hair damp from the shower he just took after sweating for ninety minutes. We walk slowly, in no rush to approach the black vehicle sitting idle at the curb, Union Jacks waving tall and proud on the hood. In one hand, he holds his worn-down skateboard, and in the other, my hand.

           “Wanta tell me why you were late this morning?” I ask. “I’m not used to not seeing you in the courtyard.”

           “Mum had left for work, and I was almost ready” —he coughs—“to walk Ty to school when I realised”—another cough—“the little bugger had been in his room way too long. Turns out he felt bad and overslept. Asked the elderly lady next door” —and another—“if she could watch him for the day as I came here.”

           His explanation is riddled with breaks, so he can cough.

           “You think it’s that virus?”

           We unfortunately make it to my waiting car. He opens the back door for me as I toss my rucksack in, letting my driver, Brandon, know I’ll be ready in a moment. Ernie and I stand with the door between us, but still only inches apart.

           “Likely. I’ll get him back home and find out what medicine he needs. I should probably take some, too.” He coughs again, as if proving himself.

           “Wouldn’t hurt,” I agree. “Guess I shouldn’t kiss you either.”

           “I would disagree, Miss Francie Pants.”

           “Oh, now you’re definitely not getting a kiss,” I tease, stepping into my car and shutting the door as he groans. I roll down my tinted window as soon as the car comes to life. Ernie rests his forearms at the top of the door, ducking his head down to see into the car. “Get better, and maybe, maybe, tomorrow.”

           He shuts his eyes and coughs before responding. “Fine, but if the doctors find I overdosed on Vitamin C tonight because I was trying to get better, it’s all your fault, love.”

           My eyes roll at his terrible joke, and I would flip him off just for the banter, but my car is already pulling away. I settle into the black leather seats of the Jaguar, pulling out a book that’s required to be read for my American Literature class. Brandon, who’s focused on the road, doesn’t see that I’m attempting to finish the book when he starts a conversation.

           “I trust school was well, Miss Burrell?”

           Closing my book to engage in the chat, I say flatly, “Just as well as any other school day, Brandon.”

           His gaze leaves the road for a split second to look at me through the rear-view mirror. We both break out into grins and chuckles. He knows I hate being asked about school—because school is school, and never deviates from normal—and he knows it. Just like he knows I hate him calling me by my last name. Still, he continues to use them without fail.

           Brandon is, regardless of his flaws, my favourite security member. He’s twenty-nine, the youngest staff my dad has employed, and his personality is vastly different than the others. He’s much more friendly, and is always ready to joke around—unless the situation requires a more serious approach. I had one different driver before Brandon, who was dreadfully boring and always stern. The moment Brandon replaced her was the moment I was eternally grateful that my father could see the work relationship wasn’t working.

           And since he’s been my driver and personal guard for the last year, we’ve grown to know each other quite well. He doesn’t speak to his family anymore, for reasons he always tells me aren’t important. But his lack of familial commitment made him perfect for a potentially life-threatening job, protecting the Prime Minister and his daughter. He knows more about my relationship with Ernie than anymore, probably even more than my dad, simply because he’s almost always around when I’m with Ernie. He knows I’m rarely serious, and finds it hilarious when I try to be.

           Besides Ernie, Brandon is the only other person I really consider a friend.

          He pulls through the opening gates and stops at the front door of 10 Downing Street, my home and Father’s personal office. Wishing I didn’t have to endure the publicity act every time I want to return home, I step out of the car with my bag hanging off one shoulder, saying a quick thanks to Brandon. I’m ready to flash a smile to the reporters across the street as he pulls away, but I notice the scene isn’t as usual. Only half dozen reporters are on the other side of the fairly small, dead-end road, behind metal barricades that are specifically designated for them. When they see me, their cameras turn on, and they speak into the microphones and then hold it out for my reply, but over the car engine that’s still close by, I can’t hear their words. It doesn’t help that many of them are wearing white medical masks around their mouths, hooked behind their ears.

           They must not want to catch the virus, I assume. Or maybe they already have it and don’t want to spread it.

           Regardless, I make my way inside, shutting the black door and locking it. I call out for my father, the high ceilings and marble stair cases allowing my voice to travel further. Typically, he’s home by the time I’m back from school, unless there is urgent business to be handled elsewhere. Brandon didn’t tell me my father hasn’t returned home, though, so I begin to ascend the stairs, calling for him again.

           I decide to start looking for him in the most obvious of places: his office. The sound of my school shoes is muffled by the long, light green rug that runs the length of the hallway decked out with prestigious paintings. My father’s office is situated between a large library filled with numerous book, old and new, and his bedroom, each of the rooms connecting to the next.

           “Dad?”

           His office door is cracked open, enough that when I peer into it, I can see my father sitting behind his grand oak desk. He isn’t looking down at papers, however. His head is lifted to stare in front of him. “Dad, are you alright?” I question, pushing the door open further to see what he’s seeing.

           A dozen, if not more, men stand in the spacious office, making it look more cramped than it should. They’re all dressed in suits and ties, looking back at me with stern gazes. Some I recognise from government dinners and social events I attend with my father, but others I’ve never met before. I quickly realise I’m not meant to be here. That I’ve walked into a meeting not meant for my ears.

           “Darling,” my father addresses me. His eyes look tired and unfocused. I swear he’s grown a hundred new grey hairs overnight. “I thought I heard you come in. There’s been an impromptu meeting come up—we should be done very soon. We’ll have dinner afterwards, and talk about the day, okay?”

           I nod warily, backing out of the entryway, dragging the door with me. “Okay. I’ll be in my room doing some work.”

           Voices start firing off before I can fully secure the door in its place. I do go to my room, but I’m distracted from trying to complete homework. What kind of meeting, unscheduled or not, requires a dozen government officials to gather in our home? What’s so important that it couldn’t wait for tomorrow?

           Whatever it is must be extremely important, though, as two hours pass by, the clock hand reaching five before there’s a knock at my door. Dad pokes his head in, still looking like he could sleep for a year, but now wears a smile.

           “Ready for dinner?” he asks.

           I push away from my desk littered with papers and book, responding, “I’m always ready for food. It shouldn’t even be a question, Dad.”

           We exit my room, following a series of hallways and one staircase to reach the dining room. Dad keeps walking through the room, towards the set of doors leading to the kitchen. The dining room is empty, which surprises me. “Are the people from your meeting not staying for dinner?”

           It’s not uncommon to have guest over for meals, almost always to discuss some form of business, government, or world affairs. The dining room, set up with a grand, wooden table that seats two dozen easily, would always serve as the setting for these dinners.

           “The meeting was so sudden that the kitchen staff would not be able to prepare such amounts of food on short notice, so no. They also have families to return home to, just as I have a daughter I much prefer to eat dinner with in the kitchen over those buggers any day.”

           Anytime I hear my dad, one of the most powerful men in the United Kingdom, use such informal language, I can’t help but laugh. It’s so rare to see that particular side of him, mainly because I don’t see him as often as other daughters would see their fathers. That’s one of the many reasons that, when it’s just us eating together, we choose to dine on stools at the kitchen bar. The dining room is too big, too ornate, to feel comfortable in on a day to day basis.

           “I really like it, too, Dad.”

           Harriet greets us when we enter the main kitchen. She’s the head chef in our house, slightly older than my father, but with a far more youthful soul than him. We chat mostly about cooking related subjects as my father and I fill up our plates and she frosts cupcakes. Dad insists she take the leftovers home to her family, so she wouldn’t have to cook yet another dinner.

           As Dad and I begin to eat, I ask her, “How has your son been?”

           She smiles at talk of her only son. “He’s glad to be home from his study abroad in Boston, but he’s been feeling a bit poorly the last few days. Must be that bug going around. Apparently, it’s making rounds in America as well.”

           “You should take home some cupcakes as well, then!” I reply. “They’ll surely brighten up his day.”

           She agrees, likely because she knows I won’t let her leave without at least half of the sweets she made. And when she does leave against her own volition, Dad and I are still eating, commenting about our days as a small telly sitting in the corner of the counter drones on in the background.

           There’s a lull in conversation, so I pick up a cupcake and think of a new topic. “There were many kids absent from school today, you know? Probably from that same virus Harriet’s son has.”

           Dad doesn’t immediately respond, he doesn’t even meet my eyes, as he chews over his food. It sets me on edge. There aren’t many things my dad strays from talking about, and almost everything he refrains from is classified and government related and meant to stay that way.

           “I think Ernest’s little brother has it, too.”

           That catches his attention.

           “Is Ernest also sick?” he asks, setting his fork down and standing from his stool. He collects the remaining dirty dishes to wash in the sink, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. On nights like this, when Dad sends the kitchen staff home early, one of us usually cleans up the mess left over. It’s a small tradition we started when we moved in, to keep up grounded and humble to have such amazing staff working with us.

           I shrug even though his back is turned towards me. “He had a cough this morning, but nothing too bad. Why? Is there something wrong?”

           He turns on the faucet and starts washing his plate. “There’s nothing wrong, sweetheart.”

           “Do you know what kind of virus it is? Is it like the flu, or something?”

           “No, but many doctors are looking into it.”

           “Is that what the meeting was about today?”

           I know I’m treading a delicate rope when he turns off the water and finally turns towards me. He wipes off his hands before leaning onto the opposite side of the bar, looking directly at me. “Delaney, you know there are some things I can’t speak of. But as your father, not the Prime Minister, I think it’d be in your best interest to keep some distance from Ernest. At least until all of this virus nonsense goes away.”

           My eyebrows knit together. “If it were nonsense, then I shouldn’t have to stay away from Ernie.”

           He sighs, “It wouldn’t be wise to be around him if he’s getting sick.”

           “Well, geez, Dad, I could get sick from anyone for that matter! Doesn’t mean I’m going to stay away from everyone,” I say exasperated. “You say it’s nothing, but if you can’t give me one good reason to not see him, then you can’t request I follow your advice.”

           He looks conflicted at my statement. I can almost see the weights on his shoulders, pushing him down and down and down. And then he cracks. “Someone has died.”

           My face drops. “W-what?”

           “This virus has killed someone in England. And that could just be the one we know about.” He threads pruned fingers into his hair. “So, the meeting today was to discuss what we need to do.”

           “And that is?”

           He looks at me straight on, no longer afraid, it seems, to divulge information.

           “First, I am going to start with shutting down the schools.”

[freckled-words]

Count The Teeth - Part Three

I get so wrapped up between writing and working (doing more writing than working, WHOMP) I keep forgetting to post the next update!!

Edited by @the-wild-ego​

PART ONE / PART TWO

Three peaceful weeks went by. Three weeks without NateMare popping into your apartment. Three weeks without being dragged around. Three weeks to just feel like life was somewhat normal again. 

That bubble of peace was burst in a spectacular fashion as NateMare woke you up in the dead of night. 

The lights were thrown on, and a body slammed onto the mattress next to you.

You woke with a shriek. You shoved yourself away from the body in a frantic scramble. Unfortunately, you’d been right by the edge of the bed.

You hit the floor in an awkward heap, bumping your elbow on the edge of the bed frame in the process. 

That bit of pain ebbed off some of the panic. 

Peering up at your bed, the rest of your panic was wiped out by a surge of anger. 

NateMare was on your bed. His face was buried in the pillows as his body sprawled out over the majority of the surface. 

Not giving a damn about waking the neighbors you yelled, “What the hell is your problem?!”

He snuggled deeper into the pillows, “Yell at me later, trying to sleep.”

“No. I will yell at you now! You can’t just crash here like we’re friends!” for good measure you moved to the other side and slapped his leg. It felt good to hit him. 

There came a rumbling growl from his chest. You tensed, thinking he was about to spring at you, or he’d make the chain do something.

A moment passed, and then another rumbling growl.

Inching closer to peer at his face, you found that he was fast asleep. The growls were his snores.

Throwing your hands up in defeat you left. Thankfully you had a futon for a couch. You were too tired to try hauling his ass up just then, you’d deal with him in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the smell of coffee that pulled you from your dreamless sleep. Cracking an eye open you found a steaming cup on the table next to you.

Beyond that you could see NateMare in the kitchen. Cooking bacon while he whistled a cheery tune.

Sitting up you squinted suspiciously at the coffee, then over at NateMare, “Either this is a fucked up dream, or I’m in an alternate reality.”

“Sorry for stealing your bed last night, I was half conscious when I came in.” He called back over his shoulder. He turned off the stove and put the frying pan to the side.

The smug smile on his face made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

“You’re beyond happy about something. You get laid during the past three weeks?”

Your little quip did nothing to take his smile away, “Yes I did, and it was good times, but that’s not what I’m jiving on.”

You took the cup of coffee and gave it a small sip. Tasted safe enough, just needed more sugar. The nectar of the gods warming you from the inside, you gestured with your hand, “Alright, let’s hear it. What’s got your engines running?”

“While you were here, being unproductive and pining away for me-”

“In your dreams.”

“I was researching. After a little quality time with my host, I took a lovely trip to Japan.”

Your tone dry, you asked, “You have a passport?”

He scoffed and laughed. Going back to the frying pan, he used the spatula to move some bacon onto a plate that had already been loaded with scrambled eggs and toast. It smelled delicious, and you knew your eyes just had to be begging for that food.

Which was why NateMare took that much more pleasure in sitting down on the floor and digging into the plate.

You slurped your coffee in loud protest.

NateMare at least had the decency to wait until he finished his mouthful before talking, “Who needs a passport when I can sneak into a suitcase, and then into an empty seat on the flight? First class is amazing by the way.” He gave a wink as he took another bite of his eggs.

Rolling your eyes you urged him on, “Okay, you went to Japan. Why? What was there?”

He put down his fork and held up a finger telling you to wait. He leaned down and pulled something out from under the table. It was a tattered notebook with a navy blue cover. You couldn’t even begin to guess how old it was just from the frayed page edges you could see.

Placing it on the table he answered, “This beautiful gem, is a journal that belonged to my host’s family. It took me forever to first learn about it, and then to find it stuffed into one of their storages. Bless mortals and their need to hold onto everything for sentimental value.”

You picked up the journal and with slow, delicate movements, turned the pages. The pages were filled with Japanese writing, “And you can read Japanese?”

“No, but I met a charming college student that was happy to translate for me. Among other things.” with a flourish, NateMare pulled out a small stack of papers. 

You took the papers from Mare with a quiet, “Ew.”

They were typed pages, appearing to be word for word translations of what was in the journal.

As you began to read you felt your brows furrow. When you reached the 5th page and its ongoing story you looked up at NateMare, “Is this really-”

“A legend of a monster resembling a family member, that frames them for the murders of a handful of people? Yes. This is that asshat’s origin story.” 

“Alright, I’m adult enough to admit this is some good work. But this doesn’t tell us where to find him.” You continued to read, entirely engaged with the content about the mysterious monster from the past.

While you’d been reading NateMare had finished off his breakfast. Leaving the plate on the table, he lay back on the floor, “I have a name now, and I know someone that can find people with just their names. I’ll have my hands around that leech’s throat by the end of the day.”

This was the best bit of news you’d heard all month, “Great! You have everything you need, and you don’t need me anymore, right?”

Your eager question hung in the air.

Each second that passed without an answer was too long.

“NateMare.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

Throwing off your blanket you stood to glare down at him, “You have what you need. The deal, which I never agreed to, was to help you find him. You don’t need me to find him anymore.”

His eyes were closed with his hands under his head, “The research is done, but I’m not going vampire hunting without bait.”

“Bait?”

He slowly nodded his head.

“Fuck you. Go grab someone off the street and use them for bait. I’m done. You can’t keep dragging me around like this, I have my own life to get on with!” You were panting by the end, and despite your words, your emotions were still a mess that threatened to cause tears.

His eyes opened then. Each of his movements seemed slow and deliberate as he got to his feet. Standing toe-to-toe with you he tsked, “A life to get on with? What life? I kept an eye on you for a little over two weeks. Your ‘life’ consisted of work at that gas station, going to the movies on your own, and sitting on your ass in front of the computer. Maybe the odd screaming match on the phone with your father. Pathetic as your existence is, it belongs to me.”

He snapped his fingers, and you began to burn. 

You’d assumed the chain would be the source of whatever punishment NateMare would inflict on you. You’d assumed wrong. 

You felt as though you’d been dunked into a body of water set to boiling. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t scream. You watched the skin on your hands form patches of blisters in some spots, or dry into cracks in other patches. 

You were cooking from the inside out, shriveling and weakening your muscles.

Crumpling to the ground, the tears that you managed to produce stung your skin as they traveled down your cheeks and to your chin. 

NateMare crouched down to your level, taking hold of your chin he hissed, “If not for me showing up that night, you would be just like the other victims. Drained and in the hospital, possibly even dead. You’re done, when I say you’re done.”

Straightening he snapped his fingers.

The heat stopped, and your skin returned to normal. Sucking in gulps of air you fought the urge to begin crying. You refused to let him see you as the pathetic person he already thought you were.

“I’ll come to get you once I have a location.” 

Then he was gone, leaving you to wonder what you’d done to deserve this fate.

[last-of-the-dreamers-blog1]

The rest of our lives

This is a Tony x Pepper oneshot :)

I got a little carried away but I hope you enjoy it!

The story starts at the end of Spider-Man Homecoming

Warnings: None

Fluff!

“Happy? You still got that ring?”

Pepper raised her eyebrows.

A ring? What is he even saying?

These were the only words running through her mind. The both of them never even talked about marriage. And who could blame her for not having started this topic considering the life he lead from the moment they started dating. Technically speaking it was worse before they had started dating. Tony Stark – A bachelor ever since. Why would he of all people be mentioning a ring in a situation like that.

It must be a joke!

“Of course!” Happy started fiddling in the pocket of his dress pants. “I’ve been carrying this around since 2008!” He pulled out a ridiculously expensive looking engagement ring. At least it did look like an engagement ring – Pepper could not know that for sure. It appeared to be a platinum ring topped with a single round diamond. The only decorative elements consisting of waves on either side of the band holding the diamond in place. If Pepper hadn’t known any better, she would have definitely thought that Tony must have hired a personal shopper to choose a piece of jewellery as timelessly elegant as the one Happy still held between his index finger and thumb. Maybe Happy actually IS Tony’s secret personal shopper. But this is a thought for another day when there were not more than a hundred journalists waiting. Pepper shook her head to let go of all these unprofessional thoughts which were running through her head. She was here as Virginia Potts – CEO of Stark Industries. Not as Pep – Tony’s girlfriend. But she just couldn’t manage that to a full amount as one thought repeatedly came to her mind.

2008?! That was years ago! What is he even planning?!

Tony invitingly raised his eyebrow telling her something between the lines of “Come on! What can go wrong?” But with him…with this self-destructive, careless, anxiety driven, charming, wonderful human being standing next to her everything could go wrong. Pepper’s brain started to think outrageously fast. Calculating several scenarios to avoid embarrassing both of them in a public engagement and the announcement of a publicly cancelled wedding afterwards. For an innocent bystander the current scene must have looked completely ridiculous: Three people dressed to the nines were standing in front of the closed doors of a room filled with journalists who where actually gathered for another announcement made by the infamous billionaire, playboy, genius and philanthropist Tony Stark. Furthermore, the guy holding the ring looked like he did not belong to what should be an intimate affair between a soon to be husband and wife. The connection between the other two people who were standing mildly closer to each other represented itself crystal clear to even a blind person. As if the situation was not weird enough, the “bride” just raised her eyebrow with her mouth hanging slightly open and stated to the “groom”: “I can think of something better.” Before turning around and entering the room to speak in front of the waiting audience. Little did she know that Tony – ever since full of surprises – followed her on her heels but not before he held his hands open to catch the ring gracefully thrown by one of his oldest friends. Said friend made his way back to his car, a smile plastered on his face, in anticipation to see his best friend happy and save in a committed relationship.

When Pepper entered the room, she was immediately greeted with at least a dozen cameras flashing at the same time and microphones being shoved to her face before she reached the speaker’s desk. But being used to standing in the limelight for a few years now she was acting as a pure professional - walking across the stage with her head held high until she finally reached her destination. She had just started announcing that there would actually be no announcement on this day, as the audience erupted in cheers which lead to her turning her head to a Tony with a microphone in his hand – wherever he managed to get this thing in the last two minutes but being a billionaire had its perks now and then.

The strawberry blonde woman was flabbergasted which honestly did not happen that often. But maybe she was only fed up with the ridiculous ideas of the man she called her partner. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am dearly sorry to say this but…”, Pepper started before she realised that her microphone was not working at all. Her blood started to boil and she felt her heartbeat bumping in her ears. Just because of her boss’s or her boyfriend’s ego, she would not accept being humiliated in front of a crowd by being unprofessional. Her mind worked quickly as she took a step towards Tony to grab the microphone from his hands with an unapologetic smile on her smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am really sorry – actually no I am not – but still there had been a minor change of plans for today.” Tony stated as he sauntered elegantly around Pepper and into the middle of the stage. “Today…” He flashed the whole crowd his signature grin showing his perfectly white teeth in the process. “I will make a more personal announcement.” The audience started to cheer while Peppers heart sank.

He can’t be serious! In a situation like this?

“Virginia Potts. You are not only a reliable part of our workforce here at Stark Industries. Furthermore, you are also an important part in my own private life. Maybe the only truly reliable part there ever was. Therefore – as I am not that good with words when I am flustered as we all know..” He smiled at the crowd once more to get a reaction from the listeners, while Pepper still stood frozen in the same spot. Her heart started to race as she saw him sinking down on one knee in front of her holding the diamond ring Happy had shown her mere minutes ago.

He can’t be -

“Will you marry me?”

Serious!

The next moments lasted a whole lifetime. It felt like eternity to Pepper, to Tony, and to all the people who were sitting in front of a screen at home who were watching the stream of Tony Stark’s highly advertised announcement.

Tony himself was not fully aware of the buzzing room around him – only having his eyes on the woman in front of him. He was not aware of his suit bunching up around his knees as he was kneeling on the floor – only thinking of the woman he truly loved. He was not even aware of the fact that his hands suddenly started to get sweaty. He, Tony Stark, billionaire – genius – playboy – philanthropist, flustered by a woman? And still he could not keep his eyes off of her. His dark brown orbs fixed on the eyes of the only person who mattered to him at this exact moment. A chocolate coloured gaze running to Pepper’s blueish green one which always reminded him off a day at the sea. Maybe he could bring her to the sea? His thoughts started running wild as he was waiting for an answer. As he was totally fixed on the storm happening inside his own body, he did not realise the change going through Pepper’s demeanour. She did not want to say “Yes!”. Well, of course she did. But not in front of an audience, or cameras, or mobile phones. She may was a strong business woman – but she had also dreamed of her dream man, dream proposal and dream wedding as a little girl. Dream man…The last years she spent at Tony’s side rushed through her head. Tony getting kidnapped, Tony getting saved, the Iron Man Suit, many Iron Man Suits, the battle of New York, the Avengers, Iron Legion, the war between the members of the Avengers, so many enemies, will she ever be able to sleep normally being married to a man like that, he was a good man wasn’t he, a bit … a lot of an egomaniac, but also not really … Pepper was not used to having her thoughts running through her mind in an order like that and yet she started focussing on a face. She still could remember that exact moment – like it was yesterday. Tony stepping out of a plane. Blood still visible on his face even despite being clad in a clean suit and tie. Back then she could not hide her smile nor her tears of relief. Did she fall in love with him back then? Did she already love him back then? She could not answer these questions and honestly, she did not want to.

Slowly shaking her head to get these thoughts out of her head, it was her turn to focus her ocean blue eyes on the man kneeling in front of her. Not as collected as usual, she felt a tear forming in the inner corner of her left eye slightly blurring her vision.

“Come on, honey. It is only the rest of our lives!”

There he was again. The Tony the media knew and either loved or hated. Was this HER Tony as well? She felt overwhelmed by her conflicting feelings. She did not want to agree to an engagement because her dear boyfriend could not think of a better way to call off a gathering for an announcement. And still… Happy had this ring since 2008…it sure must mean something….

“Yes….”, she whispered lowly only for Tony to hear.

“What did you say, love?”, his signature smile visible on his face as he stood up, bringing the microphone to his mouth.

“Yes!”, she said once more, now uncomfortable as she started to realise the cameras, and the people, and the lights, … again. She did it. She just got engaged. And she did not know whether it was just a joke or not. Therefore, she did not realise how Tony pulled her in to seal their lips in a kiss which would be all over the news the next day. Nor did she realise how Tony slid the ring on her finger or how Happy grinned when they came back to the car. The ride home was spent in total silence. Tony thought it was because of pure bliss – as that was what he was feeling. Happy thought it was because of pure bliss – because that was what he wanted for his friends. Pepper knew it was because her confusion.

Why did he do it? Is he serious? Will he call it off? Why the hell did I play along?

Once they had arrived at the Avenger’s tower, Pepper immediately left the car and made her way up to their shared apartment leaving it to Tony to receive Happy’s congratulations. She needed time solely to herself right now to make up her mind about the journey lying ahead of her, although a small voice in her head still called the whole proposal a joke. A bad joke – to keep the journalists at bay – to avoid bad publicity and that’s it. Hearing this little voice growing louder and louder inside her mind, she could not help herself but she started to cry. Pepper was weeping silently. She still had not reached their home and so there were people around who should not – under any circumstances – see her cry. This would make a great headline as well: Pepper Potts, devastated after accepting the proposal of her long-time boyfriend Tony Stark. This is not a possibility for her. Tears were now running down her cheeks and dripping to her collar bones. It seemed like a miracle but she was able to catch an empty elevator without being in close contact to an employee or any other person who had god knows what to do in the building.

When Pepper finally reached their apartment, she kicked off her high heels, took the ribbon out of her hair which caused her strawberry blonde length to run over her shoulder, and sank down on the expensive looking leather couch in the middle of the living room. She could not take it anymore. Every emotion welling inside her chest and running wild inside her head broke loose. Her silent cries turned to deep sobs which were vibrating in the air. The picture that presented itself was a miserable one. A woman of power breaking down because she did – for once – not know what was going on in her life. The scene was replaying again and again. She could see Tony in front of her inner eye – on his knee with the ring between his fingers. The Ring! Pepper had nearly forgotten about the ring. Carefully, she glanced down to her ring finger taking the ring in with all his beauty. There was a small inclusion visible in the otherwise perfectly polished diamond. Raising her hand into the sunbeams reaching her from the nearby window, she could see this imperfection even more clearly. She was not mad about that – it even made the ring more charming.

He would not buy something like that. He can afford everything. What does that mean? It is a joke. It must be.  

At these thoughts, her eyes started to fill with tears once again. A low sob got caught in her throat but she did not want to give in to it – not anymore.

“Ya like what you see, Pep?” The smirk even noticeable in Tony’s voice. Pepper had been too preoccupied with examining her ring, to hear Tony entering the apartment. Before she answered him, she lowered her hand and straightened her posture, but did not turn around to look him in the eyes. Too proud to let him see her during such a vulnerable moment.

“Why did you do it?”, now her feelings lay noticeable in her voice. Tony’s face fell. Instead of his almost always present grin, he furrowed his eyebrows and the delicate lines around his mouth got more visible than ever.

“What do you mean? I love you! That’s why I –“, he walked across to room to stand in front of Pepper. Even without having her look him into his eyes, he knew she had been crying. Without second thoughts, he lowered himself down on one knee in front of her – for the second time on this day. The view was like a slap in the face for Pepper. She did not want to recall the moment. She was dearly convinced that everything was just a cheap PR gag.

How can he play with a person’s feelings like that. I thought he had changed…

“Tony. You did it because Peter left. It was just your emergency plan. Tomorrow we will do a press statement and everything will be over. I – I can’t do it. Not like that.” Pepper wanted to keep herself contained. A woman who has been through so much more, a CEO of a huge company, a modern businesswoman should not cry because of a man – because of the simple guy, the man kneeling in front of her. Her body was shaking when she made up her mind and reached to her finger. “I can’t do it….” Her voice was breaking as she slipped the ring off her finger and let it fall into his now opened palm. Tony looked confused. Now it was his turn to have his chest flooded with a million different thoughts and feelings – many of which he had never felt before. And some of those he could have felt before, but he never allowed himself to do so. “You think I just asked you because of the journalists…” He spoke more to himself than to Pepper, although the woman did her best to avoid the man’s gaze. It did not take him long to regain his composure. Quickly he got rid of his suit jacket and tie throwing both pieces to the floor next to the couch. While Pepper was still avoiding his gaze, he dropped down on one knee – for the third time – and raised the ring to her face. Now the redhead was not able to look away anymore and locked her eyes with the brown orbs slightly beneath her own. At this moment Tony could see the outcome of the whole disaster. Mascara draining Pepper’s porcelain cheeks with greyish black tears, her nose red and puffy and her eyes swollen from crying. He wanted to let his head sink down as hope drained from his body, but it was his only chance to not lose the woman he truly loved.

“Pep. Honey. I know…the timing…the timing may have been a bit of…”

>Come on Stark! Get it together! You are not shy for words!<

“I had this planned for a long time…well …planned it differently. I wanted to take you out somewhere. A small bistro, nothing big. I thought about taking you to Paris. But that would have been too much so I thought about the tiny one just down the road. We wouldn’t even need a car. We could just walk there. It is a nice place. Nice food as well. We could have spent a nice evening there and then I would have asked you. I mean we can still spend a nice evening there. I mean if you want…”

Pepper had never observed him rumbling like that. He merely looked like a little boy who did not know what words to use to ask for a forbidden fruit. A grin conquered her face, the tears nearly forgotten although the traces still visible on her cheeks. As Tony saw this slightest form of a smile his courage returned.

“Happy was not lying when he said he was carrying this since 2008.”, he said referring to the ring. “It was back then when I decided you will be the only woman I will ever get to marry. Did you … did you see the small bubble inside the diamond.” He tried to point at the small imperfection but his fingers where actually too big which drew a hearty laughter from Pepper. “I chose this one on purpose…”

HE chose it? Pepper’s heart got warm. He chose it for ME.

“I thought … I mean … it would sum us … would sum me up pretty well. Me with this thing in my chest…” His gaze turned away from her, and she knew he was drifting off to a dark cave in a distant country. To save him from his inner demons, she grabbed his hand which was not holding the ring and linked her fingers with his bigger ones. Both of their now entangled hands settling down in her lap. This small gesture was enough for Tony to return to the present, to turn his back to his darkest memories – at least for this moment. Tony cleared his throat before he continued his monologue.

“I had this thing in my chest. I mean this thing made me, it created me. It created all of what I am now. But it still is my pressure point. The best and the worst side of me. This small imperfection … this bubble in the diamond…I mean it is the worst side of the diamond and still its best feature. It does not look like all of the other diamonds in a store. It makes the stone special; it adds character to it. I know you usually don’t like things which are a bit rough around their edges but you still chose me – despite of all my edges. Over and over again it was always me. I think it represents us: You are my best feature, while I am your worst.”

He had put a lot of thought into choosing the ring. This realisation hit Pepper. At the same time a wave of guilt ran over her. She judged him completely wrong – she could have and should have known better.

“I will ask you again, Pep. And believe me. This is the last time you will see me on my knees for a very long time…” He looked straight into her blueish eyes; smiles spread over the lovers’ faces. Pepper felt a tug on her heart. This mess in front of her – her mess – was her home and always will be. With a grin on his face which was entirely different from his signature grin. A grin which was only reserved for Pepper and people nearly as close to him, he spoke the magic words.

“Pep. Will you become my wife?”

No more words were needed as she answered him with a kiss.

The ring – however – slipping back onto her finger in the tangle of limbs that followed afterwards.