#once my new red contacts come in I can properly do photos

[realreadysetrose]

Test try-on just to make sure all the robotic torso pieces work, I am going to throw up from excitement

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

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warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

 He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.  

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (Part 10)

Warning - smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

Arriving at the restaurant just before 6, you were a bag of nerves. All he'd told you was the destination and the time, he'd meet you there. You'd pre-booked your train home that night - last train to Birmingham New Street was just after midnight so you had plenty of time. Liane had headed home after dropping you at the restaurant.

After giving your name to the waiter at the door, he led you through to a quiet section at the back, the table laid with a rose and bottle of red wine waiting. You took your seat and looked around you. You'd never been somewhere as fancy as this. A few minutes later, you saw him walk in. Dressed in a light blue shirt that matched his eyes, navy trousers and shoes, and dark tie to match the trousers, he looked stunning. He smiled when he approached the table, kissing your cheek again and sitting opposite you.

"Can't quite believe you're here. Was worried you were going to ghost me again,"

"Yeah well... I was hungry," you grinned, making him laugh. God you could listen to that laugh all day...

"Have whatever you want. It's on me."

"No it isn't, I'm paying half. And I won't hear you argue otherwise."

"Yeah we'll see about that. They already have my card behind the bar babe, it's too late."

"Then I'm paying for the next date."

"What makes you think there will be a second date?"

"Seriously?" You mocked, and he grinned, licking his lips. You'd seen him do that in countless interviews but seeing it in person was something else entirely.

You talked. The conversation didn't end, there were no uncomfortable silences. He listened patiently as you told him about the cancer scare and how it had ruined your life up to now. How it had stopped you truly living life properly.

"And now?" He asked as the mains were cleared away.

Butterflies. Full on butterflies. And it had nothing to do with the wine either. Dessert menus were given to you both, but neither of you were interested. There was only one thing you were interested in, and it had nothing to do with ice cream.

"Now.. I don't know! I just feel free. I feel like I can do anything. It feels like a cloud has been lifted. I feel like I can have a normal life..."

"You know, my train isn't for another couple of hours.."

"Do you actually want to catch it?"

"Where are you staying?"

"Staying? Babe I live round the corner!" He chuckled, grabbing his jacket. You took your purse out and he shook his head. "Told you - I've already paid." You smiled, taking the hand he held out for you. As you both left the restaurant, you glanced over your shoulder hearing a camera click. Word had got out, there was a photographer hiding in the outside seating area. You nudged Cillian, who rolled his eyes.

"They follow me everywhere here, especially since filming ended. Come on," to your surprise he didn't let go of your hand. If anything he held it tighter, pulling you closer to him. The secretive, elusive Cillian Murphy didn't care who saw him, or who he was with. You tried to hide your face from the photographer but he was persistent. Asking who you were, how long you'd been together, did you meet on set...

Cillian didn't answer any of the questions, and neither did you.

"Don't hide your face. Makes them worse.." he whispered. "Head high, walk normally." He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, and you straightened up. He was proud to have you on his arm, that much was obvious. It was too late to try and hide it, so you embraced it. He was beaming with you under his arm, and you nuzzled closer to him, no longer caring about the photos being taken. A gentle kiss from him on your cheek, squeezing your hand in his over your shoulder.

The photographer had long gone, getting what he wanted. Still, neither of you cared as Cillian unlocked his front door - he lived in one of the terraced houses you'd seen when you arrived earlier that day. Once inside, he pointed to his living room and went to grab another bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen.

He placed them down on the coffee table and you opened the bottle. Pouring two glasses, you took a sip and leaned back on his huge sofa, slipping off your heels.

"I don't know how you do it, walking round in those things. Agony," he chuckled, pulling your feet up onto his lap and rubbing the soles making your groan.

"Well I'll wear them every damn day if you're gonna do this afterwards!" You laughed, leaning back with a moan.

His hands on your feet felt incredible, but not as good as your moans made out to be. You had felt extremely turned on ever since dinner, and you were putting on quite the show.

"That's it... Feels so good... Harder..." You could see him trying to hold his focus, he was the one who wanted to take it slowly but you had absolutely zero intention of it. Your skirt hitched up your thigh a little as you shifted positions, opening your legs just wide enough for him to see your lace stockings.

"You win..." He practically growled, before hoisting you up and onto his lap with force. His lips found yours, and within minutes your dress was removed. You grinned as his eyes scanned your body, refamiliarising himself with every curve, every mole and freckle that covered your skin. His eyes feasted on your breasts, held in place by the blue lace push up bra Liane had convinced you to buy, matching the blue lace stockings on your legs.

"You look incredible, but I'm gonna have to apologise in advance..."

"What for?"

"There's gonna be fuck all left of those stockings in about two minutes." You laughed as he lifted you up, carrying you up the stairs before kicking the door to his bedroom open.

Laying you down on the bed you stopped him.

"Let me make it up to you, yeah?" His eyes met yours, you could almost taste the hunger in them as he nodded and pulled back. You sat up, unbuckling his trousers and letting them fall to the floor around his ankles. He groaned as you took his length in your hand, stroking up and down the shaft slowly, teasing him with your tongue as it flicked over the tip. His hand on the back of your head trying to get more contact, you looked up and him and shook his hand away. Sinking your lips over him, you gave him absolutely no time to adjust, your head bobbing over his shaft, tongue lapping at the thick vein. He stumbled, falling out of your mouth and onto the bed on his back. You were quickly back on him, moving your body between his parted knees.

"Jesus... Fuck that feels good," he panted, his fingers gripping your hair holding it out of your face so he could watch you devour him. His breathy little moans encouraging you to sink your mouth further down, your fingers cupping his balls, squeezing them lightly making his hips thrust into your waiting throat. You didn't stop when you felt them tense, only moved quicker and harder. He was breathing erratically now, groaning as his orgasm quickly approached.

"Gonna cum y/n.. fuck I'm gonna cum... Don't stop.." several shots of warm cum lined your throat and cheeks as he panted your name, his grip on your hair tightening almost as much as his balls were, releasing his seed into your mouth. You rolled what you could around your tongue for him to see before swallowing it down.

"Get that sweet pussy up here..." He beckoned, with his eyes, and you moved your body up so your core was hovering over him. He picked apart the lace ties at the side of your panties and threw them across the room, lifting your arms to rest on the headboard in front of you.

"You might need to hold onto this, my hairs off limits after last time," he smirked, and quickly latched onto your clit with his tongue making your fingers grip the headboard and his name fall from your lips. His tongue was incredible, your hips involuntarily riding against his face as he licked and sucked you to heaven and back. It didn't take more than a few minutes to have you grinding against him, moaning as you came over his lips.

"That's got to be a record..." He panted, moving your body down to straddle him.

"Shut up and get inside me..."

"Condoms are in the top draw."

"I'm on the pill. Get on with it..." He grinned and thrust up into you hard. You leaned back to angle him perfectly against your g spot, and rocked your hips in perfect time to his thrusts.

"That's it babe, ride me... That's fucking it...." You pressed your fingers against your clit and circled it, desperate for another release. He continued to pound up into you relentlessly, holding your hips steady.

"Right there... Right fucking there!" You were so loud you were convinced the neighbours were calling the police requesting a welfare check, but neither of you cared. If they listened, they'd hear their famous neighbour's voice booming just as loud as yours, both of you on fire as the release came hard and fast. His thrusts pausing as his seed shot inside you, your walls clamping him, claiming him as you came over him. You body collapsed onto his, your forehead resting on his chin as he kissed it lightly, waiting for your heart rates to come back down.

You eased off him, laying on the bed, when his arms pulled you onto your side, turning you to face him as you lay together, staring into each others eyes.

"Cillian?"

"Mhmm.."

"I love you too."

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

““ you look like shit. “ “ thank you. “” with Janus and Remus or Virgil?

Thanks for this request anon! I wrote this with Remus and Virgil, then Janus is mentioned here and there :)

There's warnings for injury detail, a fight mention and swearing but it's not too graphic! It was fun writing enemies to lovers- but it's a pretty slow burn, I'm almost tempted to write a part two for this :) This is basically the start of an enemies to friends to lovers.

Hope you enjoy! <3

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @red-imeanblue @writerwithtoomanyships

Read on Ao3!

I hate you, but I'll look after you.

Remus/Virgil (Pre-Dukexiety)

Warnings: Injury detail, fight mention, swearing

The firm knock on the door startled Virgil awake. He rubbed his eyes and realised that he had fallen asleep on the sofa once again while watching some complete garbage on the TV. He stumbled over to the front door as the knocking became more insistent and frantic.

“Alright, alright! Calm the fuck down down, I’m coming!” The irritation clear in his voice, whoever was on the other side of this door better have a good excuse. He grabbed his key and unlocked the door before pulling it open aggressively. Virgil was about to shout again but faltered when he saw the sight in front of him.

It was Remus, a person who has been in his life for many years. They never got on, or agreed on pretty much anything. They argued and bickered whenever they were in the same room as each other, which continued to the point where they hated each other with every bone in their bodies. They’ve had to be physically separated on multiple occasions by their long suffering friend Janus who was always caught in the middle of their altercations. Enemies would be the perfect word to describe them, but even in the epitome of hatred, Virgil couldn’t turn away.

“Woah… you look like shit.” He said in a matter of fact way. Remus was clutching his side and he was gripping the pillar next to the door with all the strength he had left. There were cuts and bruises all over him, a particularly nasty cut shone in the light above his eye. His other eye was swollen and he was clearly in pain, but despite it all he managed to smirk and give Virgil a sarcastic comment in response.

“Aww, thank you! Ah, Virgil. My mortal enemy. After all these years, it’s nice to hear a genuine compliment from you.” Virgil rolled his eyes before grabbing Remus’ shirt and dragging him inside the house. That cut on his head was concerning if nothing else. He finally lets go of Remus and pushed him down onto the sofa. He clicked his fingers while pointing to him as a warning. Move, and there will be more injuries for me to clean up. Remus slouches on the sofa, the pain was starting to get to him and he was not in the mood to argue or intensify the situation. He gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through the pain, so he looked around the room while listening to Virgil moving around the kitchen getting things out of cupboards.

He had to admit, this wasn’t he was expecting Virgil’s house to look like. Given his coldness and callousness towards Remus, he didn’t anticipate how… warm the house felt. The rich purple walls covered in photo frames, the tables with various textbooks on them, and the windowsills that had several plants on them. Unlike Remus’ place, these plants were alive and thriving. Seeing this side of Virgil made him realise that he wasn’t the tough, closed off guy he had always assumed him to be. He shook his head of that thought, he only came here because he was desperate, not out of any kind of sentiment. Remus began to try and assess the extent of his injuries, so he carefully placed his fingers on his face and hissed when he felt the deep wound above his eye.

Remus was so busy making his injuries worse that he didn’t realise that Virgil had come back into the room and was moving everything onto one arm so he had a hand free. He walked up behind Remus and slapped his hand away from his face. He whimpered like a lost puppy and Virgil rolled his eyes for the hundredth time since Remus turned up at his door unannounced.

Virgil dumped his arsenal of first aid equipment on the coffee table, and he sat down on the other end of the sofa while scanning Remus’ face trying to decide which cut to clean up first. Remus watched as Virgil concentrated, and how he tried not to make eye contact. He laid out everything that he needed, and Remus’ eyes widened in fear as he saw the bottle of antiseptic. Had he fallen for some kind of trap? Virgil wasn’t going to help him at all… he was going to hurt him.

“Oh, I see. You’re going to use this opportunity to torture me… tell me. How much have you dreamed of this moment?” He tried to mask the fear he felt with sarcasm, but he chastised himself due to how scared he sounded. He’s had many experiences with wounds being cleaned up, and the agony that comes with the antiseptic. Virgil was pouring it onto some gauze when Remus began to speak, and when he reached the end of his performance, Virgil stopped what he was doing and put it down carefully on the side while sighing.

“You know I have to use it to help you, you dumbass. Yes, it’s going to hurt, but I’m not going to enjoy it… what do you take me for?” He grabbed a new bit of gauze before putting the antiseptic on it once again. He took a deep breath and waited for Remus to nod reluctantly before dabbing it delicately on the cuts. The other ones were okay, Remus grit his teeth and dug his hands into the cushion next to him. When the smaller cuts were cleaned up, Virgil turned his attention to the worrying one above the eye, and despite his best efforts, Remus couldn’t help but cry out every time the gauze touched his head. He couldn’t see it because his eyes were closed, but Virgil looked at him with sympathy, regretting the fact that he was causing pain. Even though they have caused each other a significant amount of pain and injuries over the years, this was different.

“Okay. It’s done. I’ve patched up what I can, you’ll need to keep an eye on them all, especially the one above your eye… so as payment for my kindness. Tell me what the hell happened to you. Now.” It was Virgil’s turn to try and disguise the worry in his voice, but it failed. Remus heard the sincerity and sighed, this wasn’t going to be easy to admit given their history. He winced as he sat up properly but stared at the floor as Virgil waited patiently for an answer.

“I was walking home earlier tonight, I saw some of our old… friends. They were talking shit about you. Bad stuff, even by my standards. I couldn’t help it, I- I saw red and I went for them. They got me in return pretty good… but I think they got my message loud and clear.” He looked up and saw Virgil staring at him in shock, confusion danced in his eyes and Remus leant back a little, not looking forward to the response.

“This all happened… because of me?” Virgil’s breathing started to get frantic, and Remus could feel the anger coursing through Virgil. “Why the HELL would you do that?! You HATE me!! I hate you! Where the fuck was Janus?” Remus shrugged, he didn’t know how to explain why he did what he did, but the hatred he usually felt wasn’t as strong, not anymore.

“I went to him first, but Janus wasn’t home, and no fucking hospitals. We might hate each other, Virgil… but the only person who can talk shit about you is me.” He couldn’t help but smile when Virgil chuckled at the statement. It was nice to see Virgil smile, it made him feel like all of this was worth it. He looked at the clock and saw that it was already 2am, so he pushed himself off the sofa and gave Virgil a nod of appreciation. Virgil followed suit just to make sure he got down the street safe. Not that he cared… of course not. As he stepped in front of Remus to open the door, he turned back trying to work out what to say.

“You know, as mortal enemies go… you’re the best one a person could have.” Virgil shuffled his feet before looking up at Remus. They smiled at each other, lingering in the company before Remus finally made the first move and left into the night.

As he heard the door shut behind him, he felt his cheeks that were red hot. Maybe Remus didn’t hate Virgil anymore, not really. Unbeknownst to him, Virgil was leaning against his door thinking the exact same thing.

[blu-joons]

My Bias ~ Min Yoongi

All night his eyes had been on you, watching you scan the room and chat with your fellow artists, praying somehow, you’d find your way into his direction. It had been months since he’d last seen you, well, watched your interview from an old red-carpet interview.

The noise was deafening as you walked down the carpet, posing for a few photos before being guided towards one of the interviewers who stood behind the barrier. You knew what most of the noise was for as soon as the news got out BTS would be in attendance the event became a red-hot ticket.

You took a moment to straighten your dress and adjust your hair before welcoming questions, the usual ones about your new album and how you were feeling about being at the event.

“Of course, everyone knows that BTS is here tonight, have you ever met the band before?” She asked, taking you slightly by surprise.

“I haven’t, but if I ever got the chance it would be a great honour,” you smiled, hoping you’d answered the question as best as you could.

Judging by the smile on her face you knew the questioning wasn’t over yet, most media platforms got their views just by the mention of BTS, so if she could extract some more information from you it would definitely do their social media content the world of good.

You tried to make sure you didn’t let it affect you as you gave your own personal insight on Dynamite, recommending the song with a genuine smile on your face.

“I’m sure both sets of fans would love to know if you have a BTS bias?” She then asked.

Your eyes widened, “I suppose I do have a favourite member.”

The glare she sent you was enough for you to know you were expected to continue, your attempts to swerve the question had failed, the situation was one you were going to fall into now.

You cleared your throat, looking nervously to the floor, “I’ve always kept a close eye on their member, Yoongi. I find him really intriguing and he’s got a great talent for song writing and producing. I listened to his recent release and I have to say I was very impressed, he’s much more than a handsome face, I’ve a lot of respect for him.”

He’d watched the interview over more times than he’d admit, hearing you speak so admirably about him made him determined to one day find the time to meet you properly. He hadn’t prepared, however, to see you tonight as the evening began to get loud.

“Go over,” Namjoon encouraged from beside him, following to where his gaze fell.

“How can I?”

“Have a bit of confidence,” he smiled, “you already know that she likes you, so it’s not going to be bad.”

Yoongi huffed, sighing in defeat, he scrapped his chair back, adjusting his suit jacket before walking through the crowds to where you stood, tapping against your shoulder. His body froze as you spun around, yelping as you realised who you were face to face with.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to come over and say hello,” he smiled, folding his arms across his chest, “I didn’t mean to make you jump or anything like that.”

You nodded, the corners of your mouth turning up, “there’s no need to apologise, I was just a bit surprised to see it was you, that’s all.”

Straight away your mind raced back to the interview and all the things you’d said, if he had even the slightest clue about what you’d said it would be mortifying, speaking so frankly about someone that you’d never even met before.

Neither of you wanted to bring it up wondering how the other felt, instead opting to stand awkwardly as you waited, and hoped, that the other would make the first move.

“I’m a big fan of yours,” Yoongi muttered, breaking the silence.

As soon as he heard you were performing at the awards show this evening he was desperate to be there, he’d seen plenty of your performances online but there was always something so much more special when he watched a song performed in person. For him, by far, it was bound to be the highlight of his evening.

“Oh, thank you. I’m a fan of yours too, your music is really good,” you replied, “your fans are always tweeting me telling me that I should listen to your stuff.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard quite a lot that you like my music.”

“It’s good,” you nervously spoke, “you’re a great talent.”

His body tensed up at your words, the same words you’d used to speak about him in the interview, he was surprised to hear you speak so honestly.

“I’m just going to say it, I saw the interview you gave about me.”

Your eyes widened in horror as Yoongi sighed in relief to have finally told you. Instantly you wanted to run away and hide but that would have made things all the worse for yourself, especially when you’d probably already humiliated yourself enough in front of Yoongi.

“I promise I’m not usually that cringy, the interviewer really did just put me completely on the spot.”

His head shook, resting his hand against your arm, “please, it wasn’t cringy. It was nice to hear someone speak so kindly about me, it was actually what made me notice you. I’ve listened to a lot of your music since then, you’re a great talent too.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to tell me that.”

You were relieved more than anything that perhaps you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself in front of Yoongi, and maybe the two of you were getting on quite well.

“So, seeing as, according to that interview, I was a handsome face, maybe you’d fancy getting a drink once all of this is over tonight? You mentioned that you liked my song writing, so maybe we could have a bit of a session together? See if we can come up with a track or something?”

“I’m sure you’re far too busy to spend time with me.”

“Nonsense,” he laughed, “I don’t know about you, but all these crowded places really aren’t my thing, I much prefer getting out of here.”

“They’re not my favourite things.”

Before you could protest, Yoongi had given you directions on where to meet him once the awards show was over, allowing you to go back to your seat, and himself joining Namjoon, as staff began to usher everyone back to their seats.

Namjoon smiled as Yoongi approached, “it certainly looked like it went well for you.”

“I think it did,” he blushed, taking a sip of his drink, “and I didn’t even end up embarrassing myself.”

“That’s a win!”

Yoongi sat back with a smile as the night went through. His highlight? Your performance, of course, blushing as your eyes made contact with him in the middle of the chorus, quickly looking away once you realised, he was staring right back at you.

“If you’re really going to sit here and tell me you don’t fancy her by the way you’re looking at her, you’re lying,” Namjoon whispered across to him.

“Am I making it that obvious?”

“Yeah,” he stated, “but I reckon she probably fancies you too, so there’s nothing for you to worry about there.”

“You really think so?” He asked hopefully, “you think she likes me?”

“Yeah, I really do. She said you were her bias after all.”

---

Masterlist

[ryuu-to-sobakasu-hime]

Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime (Belle) Novel | English Translation | Chapter 4

**This is a machine translation. I put it together by extracting text page-by-page from a .pdf version of the Japanese novel, and running it through Google translate. I have only minorly edited some of the more confusing lines to make it more read-able. It is still a very rough translation, but it’s good enough to understand what’s going on. If there is anyone out there who wants to properly translate the novel, I am more than happy to edit it, if you’ll contact me.**

———————————————

Chapter 4: U

I went home and opened my MacBook. While shivering in the cold, I clicked on the link sent by Hiro-chan. The letter "U" slowly emerges on a pitch-black screen with a wave-like sound. ".......U?" My tattered face covered in vomit was illuminated by the light of the monitor. The invitation page will be launched and a message will be displayed.

[ "U" is another reality

"Az" is another you

Reality cannot be redone

But with "U" you can start over

Let's live another you

Let's start a new life

Let's change the world ]

I forgot about the cold and was looking forward to it. The smartphone placed next to it was linked and the app started automatically. A registration screen appears on my MacBook monitor. It says "NAME".

"Name...."

I hesitated. There was a feeling of resistance. However, contrary to my feelings, I reach out towards my keyboard.

"S" "u" "z" …….

I type in steadily.

"U".

At that moment, a strong anxiety arose. I impulsively press the delete key. I slammed the keys to erase it and closed my MacBook.

[............]

I curled up and sighed, shivering. "I'm next to Luka" I found Luka on the bench in the courtyard. The girls are gathering together and surrounding Luka-chan. The first grade is almost over, so it seemed like everyone was going to take a picture.

"Mr. Watanabe's Yokozaro"

"Eh~? No fair!"

"I like Luka-chan's soba." Ako was envious of the shining Luka-chan from behind the pillars of piloti. I was jealous of the girls who could be photographed with Luka.

"Mr. Watanabe, look over here. I'll take a picture," urged the girl who played the role of the camera, and Luka looked in front of her. Then she waved towards us as she suddenly noticed.

"Ah. Suzu-chan!"

"Eh?" Luca beckoned to me, who was scared.

"Suzu-chan is also included!"

The girls looked at me all at once. Why? Is written on the face. I'm in a hurry

I hid in a pillar, then I looked a little and turned my palm.

"No, no, I", but Luca continued to beckon me.

"It’ll be fast!” Later, the image was sent. A group photo of girls with cute V signs, centered on Luca. There is my face full of freckles mixed with it. The position just behind Luka. Like the spirit behind her, I have an awkward V sign. When I tried to register for "U" again, I was asked for a photo of my face. I don’t have a photo of my face. I don't bother to point the camera at myself.

So, I used the image at this time for registration.

Face recognition markers are displayed on everyone. Which one are you? I moved the cursor and selected the freckled face behind Luka.

The text "A / I automatically generates a new Az" appears. At the same time, there is an annotation, "What is Az?". << The name of the avatar in "U" and another you >>

Another you.

Soon, the rendered Az was displayed.

"That ...?" There was a terrifyingly beautiful Az, far from me. You can say it's just like Luka-chan, not me. "Luka-chan? Why ..."

AI was confused with Luca, who was right next to my image. If so, what an awkward artificial intelligence! While the difference must be corrected. I hit the back button repeatedly.

"No. Back, back. Cancel ...", but suddenly I stopped pressing the button. Red spot-like patterns were clearly drawn on both cheeks of the Az.

"Freckles ..." I put my hand on my cheek. Isn't it my freckles? "Maybe I .....?" I slowly typed in each character in the "NAME" field of the registration screen. This time it's not "Suzu".

"B" "e" “l” “l” “e”

"Bell" = “Suzu”

When I decide on the name "... Bell", the Az in front of me suddenly seems to be adorable. "Cancel" and "OK" buttons are displayed on the screen, prompting you to make a selection.

"What should I do..…"

To make this beauty Az me, I'm not courageous and I'm afraid. On the other hand, no matter how far she is from me in reality, I also think. Rather, it is the world of the Internet that is far away. There are many examples of flashy names and icons on SNS.

"U" is a virtual world and Az is a virtual personality. Privacy is strictly protected. It claims that anonymity is strictly guaranteed. Then no one should blame you. Then, at the next moment, I'm at a loss. In the first place, why did AI of "U" automatically generate such a beautiful Az for me? Is it just a coincidence created by uncertainty? Or is it deep inside my heart? Are you seeing through your true desires? Or ...

It's time to select "Cancel or OK".

A late-night study room with only desk lights. In front of the MacBook screen, I decided to take a slow breath and trim. --Now, let's live another you-in my head, the message of "U" was refrained. "Click" I clicked OK.

At that moment, as if you were preparing, the "U" app on your smartphone started automatically. You can hear the announcement of a calm tone voice.

"Please attach the device"

As per the instruction screen, take out the earphone type device from the case and take it out. I put it on my ear.

"I'm reading your biometric information ..."

The letter "U" on the device glows blue and shimmers. With just one vise, you can get all the information about human beings as living things. It seems that you can do it. And in a very short time. "Done," the announcement said. Then I continued as if I was checking.

"Start body sharing"

It sounds like something is spinning at high speed. Head circumference. There was a feeling that the surroundings were covered with dense air. It seems that it was brought about by the strong magnetic field developed by the device, and perhaps because of that, the hair lifts up softly as if it were in a weightless space.

"First, vision comes under control."

The feel of the magnetic field seemed to concentrate on the back of the head. I slowly open my eyes. "Ah!" A dazzling white light rushed into my eyes.

It's a cloth. White cloths that were more than 10 meters long overlapped, fluttering and fluttering in the wind. I looked at my body as if I were checking my body, and was shocked. My feet are floating in the air. The announcement echoes, as if it were an announcement from heaven.

"Other cognitive functions and deep limb sensations come under control."

What do you mean? There were no words in that unrealistic space. Sweat gushes from the whole body, and the heart beats.

"The feeling of physical independence and physical possession moves to your registered Az." Something slowly approaches from behind. Pink hair. It was the "shadow" of Az that I registered earlier. However, it’s face is flat and white like a plate with nothing on it.

[.........]

I'm just stunned. "Shadow" overlaps. The feeling that another body gets inside me is unpleasant. The shadow of Az was fine-tuned by moving the position back and forth so that it would be in focus, but it fits perfectly immediately. Immediately, the discomfort I had just disappeared somewhere. Beyond the fluttering white cloth, I saw a large white door. I reach out my hands as I slowly approach. The announcement announced. "Welcome to the world of 'U'"

I pressed my hands against the door and opened it vigorously. When I jumped out, I saw a group of skyscrapers that filled my view. "Ah!" On the bustling boulevard that intersects three-dimensionally, a large number of people, not humans, Az-- are floating in the air. Az that imitate animals, insects, marine life, vases and set squares, Az that imitate bicycles, half-beasts and goddesses that are likely to appear in fiction, Az that imitate warriors ... , Az in all kinds of shapes are flying around while chatting loudly. When I look up at the night sky, the lights of countless windows blink, not from the twinkling stars, but from the skyscrapers hanging upside down. Another reality. Another world. Is this "U"? Powder snow is dancing. It's a little chilly. When I opened my hands to take the powder snow in the palm of my hand, I saw a white arm and long, thin fingers in my eyes.

[...]

I was surprised at the difference in physical sensation and looked as if I was checking my body. Her slender body and long legs are wrapped in a white dress that looks like a newborn.

Is this me?

Let's live another you.

The message of "U" was refrained in my head.

[............]

There, I noticed multiple eyes and looked forward. Some Az in the crowd are looking at me. However, as soon as I glanced at it, I went there. You may be a little beautiful, but this is "U". To that extent, nothing is unusual here. That was convenient. No one cares. Then you might be able to do what you've always wanted to do. When I raise my face, I take a deep breath and try to speak out.

The voice was undeniably my own voice. It's much more relaxed than I expected. I tried humming so that the nasal cavity would resonate instead of stretching. Sounds smoother than I imagined. Is it conveniently corrected because the body is virtual? But I don't feel that the sound is far from my consciousness. Is it because the scanned biometric information is accurate? Anyway…

I can't believe it. "I could sing ...!"As the powder snow dances fantastically, my voice rebels against the skyscrapers. It is echoing. How many years has it been since you sung properly? It was irresistible that I could immediately make a voice as I imagined, even though there was a blank and I hadn't done any preparatory movements. It feels like I've got a lot of freedom, and at the same time I'm a little scared. How is biometric information transformed into this output? What is Az? Anyway,

"Oh, I finally sang ...!"

I was very happy about this. I decided to sit down and sing a song with the lyrics properly. Of course there is no accompaniment, but is it okay?

[ I want to see a world where such a small melody pierces through a happy song

I wake up every morning and look for a future without you

I don't want to imagine the unpleasant singing ]

The lyrics translated into various languages ​​around me. Many languages, it surrounds me as a belt. Gaelic, Thai, Persian ...

All languages ​​overlap. If a song is detected, will it be displayed automatically without any settings? In addition, the synthetic voice singing in some languages ​​sounds faint, although the types are limited. Maybe because of that, "Hmm ...?"

Az and others who should have ignored me, suddenly look back and look at me.

"Ah ...?" Many Az in the building area are standing in the air one after another. I didn't mean to do that. I was just trying to check the condition of the technology called body sharing. However, it seems that more Az are gathering and listening than I expected. It's very embarrassing to think of myself as a street musician in a virtual world. However, it cannot be stopped on the way. Let's sing to the end, for myself. I continued thinking so.

[But I don't know the correct answer anymore.

It seems that it's going well except for me. Will it still come tomorrow?

Song, guide me, whatever happens, song, beside me, love, approach ]

From the Az who were listening, balloons displaying comments one after another appeared.

"What is this?" "Who is singing?" "Mysterious song"

At first, the content was cautious, as if watching the situation.

However, it gradually became less reluctant. For some reason, the only people who made comments such as "noisy", "strange songs", and "don't be pretentious" were Az with a cute appearance that I couldn't say such a thing. Wearing a frilly pink dress, a little animal, or a baby holding a teddy bear.

"Her looks aren't bad" "What's that freckled face (laughs)" Various tweets fly while singing. I do not mind. I'm singing for me. However, I was hurt by the words thrown at me. It ’s hard to say that only a small number of people will say

You can see it from here as well. hard. It may have appeared on the face. Furthermore, the words escalated. "I feel bad" "Stop it!" "Stop it!" I managed to finish singing before my feelings broke down. The noisy Az sighed and sighed, sighing and leaving. I had no choice but to see them off with disappointment,

"Belle"

Called my name, I looked up.

"……ah"

Something slipped in, "Eh? ... Ah," once I sprinkled the glittering scales, and once I went all the way down, it slowly stopped on my hand. It was a mysterious Az, like a white fairy, like an angel, like a clionidae. If you look closely, you can see that the body is transparent with the delicacy of warabi mochi. While swaying the wings of both hands, he said in a slightly traumatic tone.

"You are wonderful. You are beautiful."

That said, I felt saved.

"....... Fufufu. Thank you."

When I woke up, it was morning. Before I knew it, I was lying on my bed. Was last night a dream? It still has a fresh feeling. I looked at my smartphone to make sure. I have a profile page for Belle. It wasn't a dream. If you look under the bell icon, there is a column showing the number of followers.

《Belle: 0 followers》

That number is zero.

"There are no followers ....." I muttered while staring at the screen. "The world doesn't change anything." I didn't ask for it, but I felt a little disappointed.

When I thought, a beep sounded. The number of followers became "1" in front of me. That angel Az. A comment balloon appears. It was a blank space with nothing written on it. I laid down my smartphone, lay on my back on the bed, and remembered last night. There were many unplanned things. However, "But I finally sang ..." Above all, my heart was refreshed. The light of the winter morning looked dazzling. It's been a while since I've had such a refreshing feeling. Then there was a second follow-up notice. It was Hiro-chan. A cute bird-shaped Az with a round hat.

In the comment of "Re: I tried it for the first time"

<< This is Hiro. Belle is the best. I'll do anything >>

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

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dcx2NedPVBEdbfQaU-WC0pJMRmn20ASn7HSC0KY9R7E/edit?usp=sharing ~ Google Doc of the English-translated novel.

ryuutosobakasuhime.wordpress.com ~ English fan-site for Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime where translations, scans, and other content is posted.

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter sixteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

Chloe woke up sometime mid-morning. She was a bit drowsy, but memories of what had transpired earlier that day quickly sprang back to mind as soon as she tried to sit up and a blinding pain shot through her stomach. 

She couldn’t feel her legs, and she had a catheter put in. 

The c-section felt like a surreal out-of-body experience. Despite being awake, Chloe couldn’t seem to grasp what was actually happening. It felt like a bad dream, and her brain couldn’t grasp it as reality.

Twisting her head to her left, she caught sight of a note and winced as she grabbed it. A soft smile curved her lips, and she reached for her phone next, seeing three photos and a video from Beca. 

All of Bean, along with a message dating from three minutes ago which made Chloe smile with relief. 

Beca [11:04am]

Bean is doing good. The nurse told me she’s doing well with feeding. Strong like her Mama.

The day was long, as Chloe could do nothing besides laying there or pumping milk. Beca visited every couple of hours, but Chloe would rather have her keep Bean company while she couldn’t. She texted her parents and the girls to tell them Bean was born but still in the NICU, and facetimed with Aubrey. She slept some more afterward, but towards the end of the day, she started feeling anxious to meet her daughter. 

“You should go home and get some rest,” she told Beca when it pushed ten pm. 

Beca stifled a yawn. “I’m okay.” 

Chloe gave her a pointed look. “You look exhausted, Bec. You haven’t slept in over 36 hours. I’m fine. Bean is doing good, and the nurse told me she'd keep me posted frequently throughout the night. Besides, they won’t let you stay at the NICU all night.” 

Beca seemed to hesitate, eventually relenting with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll keep my phone on though, so call me if there’s anything.” 

“I will.” She smiled when Beca bent down to kiss her forehead, leaning against the contact. “Night, Bec.” 

Despite her anxiousness, Chloe managed to catch a handful of hours of sleep. As promised, the nurse had kept her posted on Bean’s health, and nothing alarming had popped up. Beca was back at 6 am, armed with a coffee and a bagel. 

“Oh man, I love you,” Chloe mumbled, taking the coffee from her. The one from yesterday was cold by the time she woke up, and she appreciated that first sip in close to seven months. 

“Are you talking to me or the coffee?” Beca teased, smirking. 

“The coffee,” Chloe replied, sticking her tongue out. ���Did you manage to get some sleep?” 

“Yep. Seven hours.”

“Ready to go see your baby?” The nurse asked as she breezed inside Chloe’s room with a wheelchair. 

Chloe beamed. “Yes, more than ready.” She sat up with a grimace and turned, letting her legs hang off the side of the bed while she waited for the discomfort to pass. Then, with Beca’s help, she shrugged on her robe and lowered herself in the wheelchair. 

Her heart picked up with anticipation as she was rolled down towards the NICU. She thoroughly washed her hands, as did Beca, and Beca took over with the wheelchair pushing duties, slowing it to a stop in front of the right incubator. 

Tears filled Chloe’s eyes, but she managed to blink them away so they wouldn’t blur her vision as she took in the sight of her daughter for the very first time. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed out, reaching out through the hole to touch her hand. 

“Hi, Bean. I’m your Mama,” Chloe choked on that word, tears spilling down her cheeks despite her best attempt to make them go away. “Hello. You’re okay,” she soothed when the newborn scrunched up her face and kicked her legs. “Mama’s here.” 

The NICU nurse standing by observed the scene with a smile. “Do you already have a name for her?” 

“I do,” Chloe replied, unable to tear her gaze away. “Marleigh June Beale.” June was her grandmother’s middle name, and Chloe wanted to honor her in some way. “Aka MJ. Or Bean.” 

“I feel like Bean is going to stick around,” Beca commented with a soft chuckle. 

“I’m not able to hold her yet, am I?” Chloe asked the nurse as she wrote down Marleigh’s name on a small board. 

The woman shook her head. “Not until she’s stable enough.”

Chloe nodded, pushing her disappointment away. While she was aching to hold her, she felt grateful enough that they were both okay after that huge scare. 

“She’s so small,” Chloe repeated to Beca when the nurse left. Marleigh’s tiny fingers wrapped around her pointer one and Chloe smiled. “That’s right, Bean. I’m right here. I’m not leaving.” 

Except she obviously had to during the night, but she was right back as early as she could, gazing at her daughter for hours on end. The odds were looking good, with Marleigh gaining weight every day and her lungs getting a bit stronger, too. She was switched to a C-PAP ventilating machine instead of a tube down her throat on the third morning. 

Chloe was discharged on her fourth morning, and once visiting hours were over at the NICU, she reluctantly left Marleigh’s bedside and drove home with Beca. 

“You alright?” Beca asked as she pulled out of the parking lot. 

Chloe nodded, wiping a tear away. “Yeah. It’s just-- weird to leave her behind. I know we’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning, but… it’s not the same.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” Beca agreed, reaching over to hold her hand. 

It had been three days, but Chloe was still extremely sore from her c-section. Simple things such as getting out of the car by herself were difficult, and she found herself in a pickle as she stood in the bathroom, unable to take her clothes off. 

“Bec?” She called out over the sound of the shower running. “Can you come in here for a sec?” 

Beca popped her head inside a few seconds later. “What’s up?” 

“Can you lower my leggings for me?” Her nose scrunched up. “I can’t bend over.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Beca said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. She slid them down and Chloe stepped out of them, then undid the last few buttons of her shirt and shrugged it off. Her incision looked pretty raw, and she was sporting a five-month bump, but that didn’t bother her. She knew it would deflate with time as her uterus went back to its normal size. “Can you um, do you mind getting in with me?” Her cheeks heated up over the request. “I can’t raise my arms at all.” 

Beca smiled sympathetically. “Yeah, of course.” She stripped down to her underwear and a sports bra while Chloe stepped under the hot spray in just her underwear. 

It wasn’t anything Beca hadn’t seen before, and she really needed to get her nipples rinsed off after pumping. 

“Oh my god, this feels amazing,” she gushed as soon as the spray hit her sore muscles. It was her first actual shower in over three days, and Chloe felt gross. She felt the loofah against her back, rubbing in slow circles, and bit back a moan. While Beca did her back, she was able to wash her front and her face with slow, calculated movements so she didn’t strain her incision. 

“Shampoo?” Beca asked. 

“If you don’t mind.”  

“Tilt your head back a bit if you can.” 

Chloe did so, holding back another sound of satisfaction as Beca massaged her scalp, working the shampoo through her red curls. She stepped back under the spray to rinse it off, then turned the water off. 

“I’ll go get you a towel,” Beca said, stepping out and reaching for a large towel under the sink. She wrapped it around Chloe’s body, then grabbed another one for herself. She wordlessly helped Chloe dry off and once in her bedroom, helped her dress once more and towel-dry her hair because it turned out being able to raise her arms was handy for a lot of things. 

“How you feelin’?” Beca asked ten minutes later when Chloe padded to the kitchen. 

“Better,” Chloe said as she poured herself a glass of water. She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Anxious, though. I don’t like being so far away from her. I just hope she’s okay.” 

Beca nodded. “They would have called if she wasn’t.” 

“I know.” Chloe cleared her throat. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly, but you were my rock during the c-section. I was terrified, but having you there with me and knowing you were looking out for her after… it really helped. So thank you.” 

“Of course,” Beca murmured. “I’ll always look out for my favorite girls.” 

Chloe smiled and stepped up for a loose hug. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Chlo.” 

Chloe was greeted with great news when they reached the NICU the next morning. Marleigh was deemed stable enough to spend some time outside of the incubator, which meant Chloe would get to hold her. 

“Skin-to-skin contact is very beneficial at this age, so you’re welcome to open your shirt to lay her directly on your chest,” the nurse told Chloe as she opened the incubator and fiddled a bit with the wires. 

“Okay,” Chloe said, taking a seat on the chair in the corner and undoing her buttons. She gasped when the nurse gently transferred her into her arms. 

Marleigh fussed for a bit while the nurse adjusted the CPAP over her head, then settled down, curling up against Chloe’s chest. 

“Hello my sweet girl,” she whispered, brushing a kiss to her red hair. Her heart felt fit to burst, and happy tears stung behind her eyes as she gently rubbed her back. “I love you so much.” 

“Smile for the pic, Mama Chlo,” Beca requested as she held her phone up. Chloe looked up and did so, finding it hard to keep her eyes away from Marleigh more than a few seconds at a time. “Can I send it to the group chat and your parents?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out, her gaze flickering back down to Bean. She cleared her throat and started to sing softly. 

“She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry…

Whoa, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine.” 

It took another ten days for Marleigh to be taken off the ventilator. Chloe spent every day at the NICU, holding her, singing to her, reading her stories, or simply holding her hand. Beca wasn’t there all the time, tying up loose ends at the studio so she could take four weeks off whenever Marleigh got to go home. She still made it to keep Marleigh company while Chloe headed to her NA meetings or therapy sessions because Chloe didn’t want to miss any. 

Marleigh couldn’t feed on her own just yet and was struggling to regulate her temperature, those being the two milestones she needed to reach before being cleared from the NICU. 

“Chlo, she doesn’t like it when I’m the one doing it,” Beca mumbled, looking slightly panicky as Marleigh fussed while she tried to change her diaper. “Or maybe she just doesn’t like me, period.” 

Chloe had done it quite a few times by now, but it was Beca’s first attempt at changing a baby diaper in apparently, ever. 

Chloe rolled her eyes, stifling a laugh. “She likes you. Now open the diaper.” 

Beca did, grimacing as a foul smell escaped from it. “Holy shit. Dude. That’s nasty.” She folded the dirty diaper and put it away, then gently grabbed Marleigh’s kicking feet. “How can someone cute like you make something so stinky? I feel like your Mama knew that was a bad one and let Auntie Beca do the filthy job. Don’t you think?” 

Chloe wasn’t sure how much more her heart could take. It seemed to swell a bit more with each interaction she witnessed, and would soon run out of room in her chest. 

Wipes and a clean diaper later, Beca lifted Marleigh into her arms. “We did it, Mar!” She showed her hand to the two weeks old. “High-five? No?” Beca smirked as she sat down in the rocking chair. “You’re hard to impress, MJ.” 

Over Marleight’s third week in the NICU, Chloe tried breastfeeding for the first time. It took a good minute to get her to latch on properly, but once she did, she was a real trooper. 

“How does that feel?” Beca asked as she sat in the opposite chair, observing the scene before her. “Does it hurt?” 

“No. It’s a bit weird, but it doesn’t hurt,” Chloe said as she gazed down, obsessed with the way Marleigh’s ears moved back and forth as she nursed. 

“Oh, Aubrey’s here,” Beca said when her phone buzzed. “I’ll go get her.” 

By this point, Beca was considered the other parent by the NICU staff, so they were allowed an additional visitor. Marleigh’s stomach was still fairly small, so Chloe was done feeding by the time Aubrey arrived. 

“Hi,” Chloe greeted with a bright smile as she paced around, rubbing Marleigh’s back to get her to burp. When she did, Chloe pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Good job, Bean.” She focused back on Aubrey. “Wanna hold her?” 

Aubrey’s head bobbed up and down. Chloe didn’t think she’d ever seen her best friend this excited, though she could tell Aubrey was trying to conceal it. Once she’d sat down on the chair previously occupied by Beca, Chloe gently lowered Marleigh down in her arms. 

“Oh my gosh,” Aubrey gasped, cradling her in the crook of her elbow. Marleigh was much more alert now, her big blue eyes staring up at that new face. “Hello, Marleigh. I’m your Auntie Aubrey.” 

Tears pricked behind Chloe’s eyes as she snapped a few pictures. She had about a thousand of Marleigh by now. 

By the fourth week, Marleigh was wire-free and was moved to an open incubator. She still needed to gain more weight until they could go home, but it was only a matter of a couple of weeks at most. Chloe now got to dress her, her first official onesie being the Bella one. She snapped a photo and sent it to the group chat, then had Beca snap one of the two of them as Chloe was wearing Beca’s barden hoodie, too. 

They were cleared to go home when Marleigh reached five weeks and doubled her birth weight. She still looked unbelievably small once she was strapped in her car seat, ready to set off. Chloe gifted the nursing staff with a basket full of goodies and a heartfelt note for their devotion and kindness over the six weeks Marleigh spent at the NICU. 

“You got it?” Chloe asked as Beca slid the car seat into position once they reached her car. 

A click was heard and Beca cast her a smirk. “I’m a pro already.” 

Chloe chuckled and slid in the backseat so she was by Marleigh’s side for the ride home. They reached Beca’s place just after eleven that morning, Marleigh having fallen asleep in the car. 

Their first afternoon home unfolded smoothly. It was weird and a bit scary to take care of Marleigh without having a nurse nearby, but Chloe knew it was just a question of habit. 

“How’s the water?” 

“Good, I think. You should check it, too,” Beca said as she turned off the faucet. 

Chloe dipped her hand in, then lowered Marleigh into the baby plastic tub they had set up in the master bathroom one. Marleigh started crying as soon as her butt touched the water, her features scrunching up. 

“Oh no, it’s okay,” Chloe soothed. “I’ll be quick, Bean.” 

Beca started singing to distract Marleigh from crying. 

“Shorty get down, good Lord

Baby, got 'em open all over town

Strictly biz, she don't play around

Cover much grounds, got game by the pound.”

Chloe stifled a laugh and bit back a comment because it was actually working, Marleigh settling down while she rubbed a cloth over her body, then gently shampooed her hair. 

“I can’t believe you sang that song,” Chloe said, shaking her head as she rubbed Marleigh dry a few minutes later. 

“Hey, it worked,” Beca argued softly, huffing a laugh. “My girl’s got good taste.” 

After putting on a fresh diaper and a onesie, Chloe fed Marleigh, then swaddled her. The baby didn’t stir as Chloe lowered her into her crib after singing her to sleep, and she turned on her night light and the baby monitor before quietly shuffling out of the room. 

First day home from the hospital? Nailed it. 

[murderousginger]

Cops and Robbers

Peaky Blinders story Chapter 1

Masterlist

Warnings: none. General fluff and sass.

Word count: 4,020

--- Note: I blame @blinder-secrets for her thirst photos and @imagine-that-100 for her general amazingness and telling me I have to write this. Enjoy. 😂 ---

You had been calling them your boys since you were 8. At seven, your mother had taken you to have a playdate with Ada while she talked to Polly about grown up business. Much to your mother's and Ada's dismay, you were much more interested in playing cops and robbers with the boys. 

At first, Tommy would only let you be the damsel in distress, because even back then Tommy made all the rules. You grew tired of being the damsel quickly, and had no problem voicing your opinions. 

"I could be a robber!" You insist, stamping your foot down one morning after church. 

"No you can't, robbers don't wear pretty dresses," John said, earning an elbow in his side from Arthur. 

"John's got you there, (Y/N)," Arthur said. "And why's you wanna play with us, anyhow? I bet Ada's got another doll for ya. Playing with boys is dirty work."

Tommy nods as Arthur puts John in a headlock and the mass of them get into a wrestling match.

"Robbers can wear fancy dresses if they steal them!" You exclaimed, jumping into the fray. 

Arthur let up on his grip on John once he realized you had joined the tousle and did his best to back away, but you gripped onto Tommy's shirt and went rolling on the grass, kicking and hitting until you rolled on top of him and pressed him into the dirt.

"Let me play, Tommy Shelby, or I'll tell everyone I won," you said. 

Arthur chuckled and John let out a loud laugh as Tommy's face went red.

"I only let you because you're Ada's friend and we're not supposed to hurt girls," Tommy huffed as he dumped you off of him. "If you want to play, fine, but you get to be a copper with Arthur."

"I want to be a robber!" You yelled, upset that you weren't getting your way.

"I have to be a robber, you see, because I'm too smart to be a copper," Tommy said, losing patience. "And I want John as my robber. So you get to be a copper. Maybe next time if you don't go crying to Pol."

And after that day, they were your boys. You played with them. You fought with them. And you loved them with the fierceness of your heart. They stopped Timmy McKee from bullying you at 11, and you helped them in little ways here and there, like helping Tommy get a note to a girl, or sneaking Arthur his favorite candy after he got in trouble for a fight, or even helping John with his homework a time or two. You even got Ada to join in the games a few times and became better acquainted with her. She became your confidante in things you weren't willing to tell the boys.

Your mother was unimpressed, voicing her worries to Polly about you being "boy crazy" at such a young age, but Polly just smiled and brushed her comments off.

"She's not boy crazy," Polly said before taking a drag of her cigarette. "She's power hungry. Dangerous ambition. I like that one."

Your mother had huffed but let you be, and stopped fighting it after a few choice words from Polly through the years. Your father shrugged and decided that if you wanted to adopt more brothers, you were allowed to do so. 

Polly quickly became Aunt Polly, and you became another rowdy body at the table, dirty feet and mouth wide.

The years went on and you stuck around, helping the boys with their mischief and gossiping with Ada about boys and the girls fawning over the Shelby boys. You were just as much a sister as their own blood, and they tormented you as such.

When they went off to the war, you decided to help with Finn and help run errands for Polly. With the men folk fighting, Polly was running the small illegal business Tommy had started, keeping contacts open and illegal activities flowing through Birmingham.

Before the boys returned, you had found a nice job in London working at the Sabini club. You filled drinks and kept your head down. The club was filled with drugs and debauchery but as long as you filled drinks and kept your mouth shut around the right people, you were a blessing. You were always on time and kept away from the extracurriculars that occupied and ruined many a barmaid before you. 

Sabini had gotten so fed up with barmaids being found unconscious or otherwise preoccupied with a gentleman in a dark corner that he made a rule that no one could drink on the clock. All drinks bought for the girls were to be given once their shift was over. Like drinks were the only problem. 

You kept in touch with Polly, asking about the family and letting her know how you were doing. The money from the club paid for a modest flat in Birmingham near your mum that you mostly visited when you had multiple days off and could find a ride. Otherwise you paid one of the other girls, Liza, a small fee to sleep on her couch. 

You knew the boys were back from the war, and that Tommy had reclaimed his business from Polly. You knew Tommy wanted to expand his presence and power, and his brothers were all too eager to help him along. You even knew that they must have been doing something right, because you could hear the whispers about "those Peaky Blinders" and "that gypsy Shelby family" all the way into London. You hadn't properly seen most of the family in years and yet people in Birmingham gave you respect you otherwise wouldn't have had. You talked to Polly here and there, checking in like, and you talked to Ada when you caught her. 

Ada was always busy, with her head in the clouds and a man after her heart. You left her to her daydreams and followed yours to the money that could fix almost anything. Money may not buy happiness but it helped with comforts, and that was as close as a girl like you could imagine you'd get to being happy.

The night at the club started like any other. You wore your flapper dress with gold and maroon and your matching maroon heels. You took drinks to the patron tables; quick to slink away with a smile before a hand wandered. You were getting surprisingly good at staying just out of reach and keeping a confident smile on your lips even when you wanted to hit a man with your tray.

There was never a scarcity of available girls or men, and so any wandering eye moved on rather quickly if they determined any amount of work was required. So if you smiled and slipped through the crowd confidently, you were safe from most wandering hands. 

As you went to put an order in at the bar, you noticed another set of girls gossiping while they waited on their drinks. 

"What's the news tonight, ladies?" You said, joining the two to make a circle. "A regular find a new victim? Sid skip out on his tab again?"

"How about those Blinders taking a seat in the middle of the club?" A brunette named Grace said. 

"Blinders?" You said, "In London? What are they doing here?"

"No one's asked," she giggled. "They haven't been served yet. Once Sabini finds out, I'm not sure they'll be walking out on their own two feet."

"Well then," you said with fake contemplation, "I guess I'll have to go see if I can get a tip before that happens." 

You winked at the girls as they gasped and giggled. 

"You wouldn't!" Grace said. "Oh you're so bad!"

You took your tray and with a wink and a smile you backed away from the girls and made your way to the middle of the room. You found three men sitting at a table, coats and hats still on, looking very uncomfortable as they watched the show around them. 

"John, stop gawking," Tommy's voice rumbled. "Arthur, calm down." 

You slipped past a woman sniffing drugs off of her hand and another man pressing a different girl against a nearby table as her hand inched toward his crotch. 

"If you missed me so much, you could have just asked Pol when I'd be back in Birmingham next," you said dryly. "What are you drinking before you start this fight?"

Arthur squinted at you before he tapped his hand on the table. 

"(Y/N)!" He exclaimed, "Why, I haven't seen you in years. You were just a kid."

"We all have to grow up sometime," you said, patting him on the shoulder. "Tommy, John, causing mischief as always?"

Tommy was frowning, looking at you closely, and John was frozen in his spot as you moved around the table. 

"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" Tommy finally said. "Pol didn't mention you worked for Sabini." 

"She wouldn't have, though, would she Tommy?" John said. "Not unless there was good reason." 

"A girl's got to make a living," you said. "If you taught me anything, Tommy, you taught me nothing comes in the way of money or family." 

"Unless it is money or family," Tommy said. "How long have you been hiding in London?"

"About a year," you said. "Running for Pol introduced me to plenty of people, and Sabini liked that I keep my mouth shut when business comes through."

"Well then," Tommy said. "How about you get us all a round of whiskeys, and one for yourself, for this unexpected reunion?" 

"I can do that," you said evenly, "but my drink won't be able to be poured until I'm done for the night. House orders." 

"House orders?" Arthur murmured. "They got fucking in the aisles and snow in every corner but a barmaid can't get a drink?"

You shrug. John still hasn't stopped watching you, so you move closer to his side of the table.

"You're being awful quiet," you nudged, "that's not the John boy I know." 

"I can't tell if I see any of the (Y/N) I know," John said. "That dress doesn't look like anything I remember." 

His eyes move over your figure slowly, and you feel your eyebrow raise in defiance. You shimmy slightly as his eyes go from your hips to your heels. 

"Robbers can wear fancy dresses, if they steal them," you said with a smile. 

A wide smile spreads across John's face as he recognizes the statement. 

"So is that what you've been up to, (Y/N)," Tommy rumbled. "Have you been playing cops and robbers without us? Find better partners?"

"You'll always be my boys, Tommy," you said. "I think aunt Pol would tell you if I got myself tied to another wagon."

"Pol only told us not to bother you," Arthur said. "That you had your own life going and you were doing fine at it."

"Seeing as you're big enough to work for Sabini, you're big enough to answer for yourself," Tommy said, a spark in his blue eyes as he leaned his elbows on the table and lit a cigarette. "How about you come back home and be our robber again? You can barkeep at The Garrison and keep us company in the back. You'll make better than here. If Harry can't keep you, I'll pay you myself." 

"But I thought I was a copper, Tommy," you said playfully. His jaw ticked as you moved your dress to sparkle in the low light. "Remember?" 

"I'm starting to think you're too smart to be a copper, too, (Y/N)" Tommy said as he pressed his hands together and pointed at you, "but don't get a big head about it." 

"I might be amenable to that," you said, smile widening into a Cheshire grin. "Only girl to best Tommy Shelby might finally get recognition." 

Arthur chuckled, opening his arm to you. You walk over to him and he moved his hand to your waist and pats your hip as he looks over to Tommy. 

"I missed this one, Tom," he said. "Finally found a mouth that gives you a run for your money."

"That mouth still get you in trouble, yeah?" John said, leaning back in his chair and putting a leg on the table. "Hard to believe Sabini could muzzle you." 

"No one muzzles me, John boy," you said moving out of Arthur's reach as you point at John. "Is your dick still doing all your thinking?" 

John turned red and sat up as he started to scowl. Tommy and Arthur both chuckling low.

"Right, well, before too long I suspect we're going to get a visit from your boss," Tommy said, smacking the table for attention. "So you need to go quit. Don't fight me now, (Y/N), just go quit. Arthur and I have some business to attend, but John, you can take the car and take (Y/N) home in Birmingham. She's done in London. I'll talk to Harry in the morning and you can start tomorrow night. Don't," he waved at your dress, "wear that. Dress how you like, but not that."

You open your mouth to fight Tommy, only to see Sabini's men whispering in the back. You close your mouth and nod, gripping your tray. 

"Looks like you have less time than you thought. I'll be outside in ten minutes, John boy." 

You walk quickly back to the bar and find Liza, the girl you stay with, and let her know you won't be staying any longer. You say goodbye to a few of the girls and with a few hugs, you slip into the back to get your coat and bag. You stop at the bar and tell bartender Jack that you quit, deciding to let him tell whoever else needs to know. 

"I'm done, Jack," you said. "I'm going back home." 

Jack looks confused before getting angry and raising his hands. 

"But you're my best girl, (Y/N)!" He tells over the music as he throws glasses into the sink. "You're the only one that's not distracted by snow or dick."

"You'll find a new best girl, Jack" you say walking backwards toward the door before turning your back and walking away. "Get 'em off the snow and they're all your best girls!"

You shrug your coat on the rest of the way before looking around the exit and noticing three men surrounding the Shelby table and voices getting louder. 

"Now's not the time to test your fighting skills, (Y/N)," John said as he hooks arms with you and walks you out of the building at a dizzying pace. 

"What's the rush?" You asked, being towed along in your heels. 

"Tommy's about to take over," John said matter of fact-ly, ushering you toward a car parked near the front. 

"I'd get your door but you're not a girl," John teases, opening his own door and jumping in. 

You open the door and barely slide in before he's turned the car on and started moving forward. 

You jump as a loud crash comes from the club and the music stops. All you hear is Arthur yelling into the mic "by orders of the PEAKY FUCKING BLINDERS." 

John laughs as you slam your door shut and you take off into the night to return to Birmingham. 

As the club got farther away, John settled into his seat. He cleared his throat. 

"I didn't even ask if you needed to pick up anything…" he said, leaving the statement open.

"I don't have much at Liza's, and she can keep most of it," you said, planning your purse on the floorboards and opening your long coat. "Anything I'm missing too bad I can always write or come get."

"Hmm," John sounded. 

"Hmm," you mimicked back.

A silence filled the car. 

"Alright, John," you said as you took your coat off. "I'm still me. You're still you. It's been a few years, but for fucks sake, relax." 

John exhaled a chuckle before bumping your shoulder. 

"Still read me like a book, I see," he said. 

"Still haven't picked up a book, I see," you said as you bumped back. 

"I let Tommy do the thinking," John shot back. "Tommy's the brains, Arthur's the brawn…"

"And you use your Shelby blues to whore any girl that'll have you," you sang back, crinkling your nose, "I see things haven't changed."

"You have," John huffed back. "When did you become a girl?"

"I've always been a girl, John boy," you spat back, "you've just been too dumb to notice." 

John laughs and you lay your head on his shoulder, squeezing his arm. 

"Might've missed this," you whisper right before you let out a yawn. 

"Yeah? Well curl up there and take a nap," John said. "I'll get us home." 

"Okay, John boy," you said as you curled your legs up on the chair and leaned on him more. "I am a little sad I couldn't get that drink with my boys. Maybe tomorrow."

"Maybe," John sounded.

---

"(Y/N), wake up," John whispered as she gently shook you. "We made it back to the garage. I need to walk you home."

You whimper and try to dig yourself more into his shoulder, not wanting to wake. John chuckles and lightly taps your jaw.

"Rise and shine," he sung playfully.

"Why couldn't you have just driven me home?" You whine, finally moving off of his shoulder. 

"Because," John said and stepped out of the car. "Tommy's got a bottle of whiskey hidden in the garage. Thought you wanted that drink."

Your eyes shot open as you tried to wake up.

"Whiskey?" You murmured.

"Thought that would wake you," he said, pulling a half empty bottle from behind some things and shook it at you. 

"Just one," you said, trying not to rub your eyes and ruin your makeup. "One. Then home."

"Ohhh," John razzed. "Spoil sport. That's not my fun (Y/N)." 

"Last time Harry saw me I was a teen getting my da from the Garrison because he was too drunk to walk home by himself and mum was a mess," you said, getting out of the car with your bag and fixing your dress. "I'd prefer I be a little put together for my first day working for him."

"How is your da, speaking of?" John asked as he held the bottle out to tease you, "and your mum?"

"Passed," you said flatly, reaching for the bottle. John's smile faultered, letting the bottle dip into your hands. "Pa, at least. The war. Mum works at the washer. I help out." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said. 

You shrug, taking the cap off the bottle. 

"We all lost something in the war," you said before taking a long drag from the bottle. 

"You're still as wild as ever," John said, nudging the bottle up until whiskey splashed down your chin. You gulped and lowered the bottle quickly as you dabbed the whiskey with your wrist.

"And you're still as much trouble," you said, licking the whiskey from your lips. 

John tilted his head, watching you closely for a moment in the dark garage. You watched him back, eyebrow quirked in a question. He squinted before taking a step forward and reached out to wipe a bead of whiskey from your chin and put his finger in his mouth. 

"Only as much trouble as you're willin'," he said in a low tone before taking the bottle from you and taking a big swig himself. 

"John boy," you said, taking the bottle back for another swig. "What are you doing? I know all your tricks. I helped you make a few of them."

"Thought you said you just wanted one drink," he taunted back, a boyish grin spreading across his face in triumph.

You take a deep drink and hum as you hand it back to him, watching him take one last drink before putting the cap back on and setting it on the ground near the car. 

"I need to be drunk if you're going to try me," you said smiling as you walk backward out of the garage, motioning for John to walk you home. 

"So's you're giving me a chance," John said as he tried to keep a serious face before laughing and looking down. 

He kicked a rock at his feet before looking back up at you. You raised your hand, beckoning him to come to you. Every step he moved forward, you stepped back, grin widening as you let out a giggle. 

"How about this," you said, a finger raised to stop him as you stepped out of your maroon heels. "Take your boots off. We do this as we've done before. First to the street wins."

"Wins what?" John asked, already leaning down to untie his boots. 

You pick up your heels to place them in your bag and realize you left your coat in the car as a breeze outside of the garage makes you shiver. 

"Wins the choice of if you get to kiss me goodnight or not," you said, watching John's eyes light up as he struts to your side with his boots in hand. 

He gives the slightest nod and you're already running down the gravel driveway, laughing far too loud in the dead of night, but you don't care because John is right behind you laughing just as loud. 

You both race on the gravel, too busy laughing to complain about the pain. You can hear him right behind you as you feel a warm hand circle your waist and pick you up, spinning you around so he's the first to the road. 

"No fair!" You shriek, kicking and twisting in his arms.

"You didn't give any rules!" He laughs back, putting you down once both of his feet are flatly on the road. You pout as John sets you down on the gravel, a big smile on his face. 

"I win," he said in the cocky tone you've heard him use on so many girls before. 

"You cheated," you retorted.

"You expected more from a Shelby?" He said, eyebrow cocked as he mocked you. 

"Shut up and take me home," you said, defeated. 

John laughed and took off his coat, encircling you in the smell of tobacco and warmth. He held his arm out for you to take and begin your walk down to your home. 

"I'm just a few down from mum," you said. 

"Why don't you live with her?" He asked, chewing on his lip.

"After I started taking more jobs with Pol, she decided what I was doing wasn't 'lady-like' and would hurt my chances at a husband. Said I couldn't live under her roof if I wanted to work like a man, so aunt Pol found me a spot down the road." 

"Yer mum can be a right bitch," John said, causing you to laugh. 

"You don't know the half of it," you say, squeezing his arm. 

"We all turned out alright," he said. 

"We did," you agreed. 

You walk in comfortable silence until you get to your doorstep. You let go of his arm and go to give him his coat but he stops you. 

"I'll get it 'morrow," he said, shuffling his feet. "Gotta get yours back, anyway." 

You nod, not sure what to do. You fumble your bag, reaching for your keys. John clears his throat, stepping forward.

"I think I won a choice earlier," he said, nose to nose with you. 

"You did," you said breathlessly. John smirks, looking you in the eye before licking his lips and looking at yours. He leans in and you freeze to the spot as his lips barely graze yours.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," John whispered against your lips, raising every hair on your body. 

John turned around, shit-eating grin on his face as he trudged back to the house. You exhale, frustrated. 

"Goodnight John!" You yelled. 

All you hear is his deep chuckle somewhere in the dark.

[sin-of-jess]

Hawks(Keigo Takami)

Type:  Smut

~

I didn't think twice about the click I heard when I locked the door to Annati Cafe. There had been a fight between a few heroes and villains a couple of blocks over, and many bystanders had chosen to visit the cafe I managed once all the action was over.

This part of town was mostly a shopping district, so this was a familiar type of day for me. Letting a huff of air pass, I crane my neck a touch to see if any of the disasters from earlier was visible. Not seeing anything I just shrug and make my way to the counters. Doing the routine final touches that my coworker Nani tends to miss, I move towards the door that led to the storage room.

The ceiling was significantly higher in this room, and the wall lights didn't brighten the top of the back shelves. Using my illuminate quirk, a soft ball of light forms at my fingertips. Giving a gentle push, the ball bobs in the air a few times before going still just before the ceiling.

Seeing the box at the very top shelf, I want to curse the nearly 7-foot Annati, who is the only person who uses the shelves that high. "So you're who I want," I mumble to the box.

"I hear that a lot." I hear behind me. I let out a quick shriek as I spin around, coming face to face with the winged hero.

"H-Hawks!" I shakily say, heart still in my throat as I give a quick look over the handsome blonde. "How did you get in?"

The hero jabs his thumb over his shoulder, "Was gonna stop by for the usual, but noticed it was 5. I was leaving when my hand nudged the door and it budged." He explained.

"Oh no," I sigh aloud, "Annati-san says the door hasn't been closing properly for her, I bet it did the same and the lock didn't work."

Hawks took a step closer, crossing his arms with a smirk, "it's a good thing I was who popped in, and not some bad villain out after a pretty lady." I felt a shiver down my spine. "So which box did you need?"

"Huh?" I turn my head slightly to the side, confused for only a moment. "Oh!" Spinning on my heels, I point up at the box with dark pink lettering. "It's the one saying Suguwora!" I felt my cheeks heating up when I felt his breath on my neck as he leaned in to see where I pointed. It had been enough time that the ball of light was losing its glow, but Hawks had no problem lifting himself and grabbing the box. The room was somewhat cramped, but he only needed one flap of his wings after a jump to grab the box.

I felt bashful as I shifted my hair back in place, the wind of his wings causing papers and empty boxes to flitter around. He places the box on a shelf beside me, leaning against it with a lopsided grin. "That's that, anything else you need help with?"

the L shaped shelving system meant I couldn't step back again, I'd only bump into more shelves.  Nonetheless, the winged hero was only a step forward, and I was beginning to feel flustered. "N-no! I think that should be it."

He took a half step closer, fingers sliding down my arm for a fleeting moment, "It's a shame, my favorite thing to do is help beautiful women."

I think every inch of my skin turned red. Was that a compliment? I wasn't used to such bold flirtations, and I wasn't sure how to react. I shuffled on my feet as I looked away, "Well I'm sure there are plenty of pretty girls to save." It was hard to feel on the same level as someone so glaringly gorgeous as Hawks was, and the photo's don't do nearly enough justice to the real thing in front of me.

"Yeah, but I'd rather do it with beautiful ones like you." He spoke, leaning over me and giving me a smoldering look.

Had it been some random guy, I'd be angry by his brazen intents; there was something about the pro hero Hawks that made my insides twist and panties moisten. I wasn't one for flings, and this certainly wasn't the setting to find one, and yet I felt like her next words defined where it would go.

Putting my shaking hands behind my back, effectively pushing my chest out as best as I could while still wearing the unflattering Cafe apron, I spoke in the only way I could without my voice wavering, a whisper. "What do you like to do with beautiful women like me?" I ask, pushing my chest out more and standing straighter.

The hero leans in, his warm breath dancing on my lips and yet never breaking eye contact. "I like to fuck 'em."

I wasn't sure how far the hero wanted to go in such a situation, but at this point, I was ready to find out. With nothing else to say, I turn my shock into bravery and rid us of the small space left between our lips.

His lips are soft, and I'm instantly melting into his touch as his hands find my hips. I put my hands inside his jacket, the tight shirt allowing me an easy feel for how strongly built he was. His lips moved against mine with expertise, feeling more and more flustered as the kiss deepens.

His hands slide from my hips to lower back, coming up to pull the apron strings, then down to the very top of my ass. The cafe uniform was simple; the black dress of a modest maids outfit with a basic pink and white apron with the cafe name and logo in black on the chest. With the apron now hanging loosely from my neck, I break the kiss long enough for a deep breath of air and to pull the apron over my head and to the floor.

When our lips met again his hands grew bold, sliding down and groping my ass lightly, as if a little tease of a feel. All the kissing had left me lightheaded, and the feel of his hands was only fueling the fire.

He pulls away, his hands finding my hips again. His gaze is clouded in lust, "You okay, yeah?" He asks, wanting to be sure he had consent before continuing.

"I'm great," I breathe, embarrassed at how visibly aroused I feel.

That's all he needs, and he's back to kissing me. His hands trail up my ribs, thumbs grazing along the underside of my breasts the moment they can reach. With no sign of hesitation from me, he grows bold as he massages me through my bra. After a minute, his hands travel back down to my hips, under my dress and up my back. The dress rides and stretches up to accommodate Hawks hands as he eases them to the clasp of my bra, releasing them in no time as my breasts drop to their natural perkiness.

He pulls his lips away to give light kisses to my neck as his hands move to my front, the dress hiking up higher as my [f/c] panties are fully exposed. I don't have a chance to think of how exposed I am when his fingers find my nipple, the left one given full attention while he palmed my right breast.

With nothing covering my lips, whimpers and light moans are coming from me as my hands migrate into his hair. The soft locks keep me grounded while my breasts and neck are given attention.

"Hawks," I whisper out, voice so full of lust I nearly feel surprised. It's as if he already knew, his hands going to my panties as his lips return to mine. He slides them down until they fall to the ground on their own, grabbing my asscheeks with a groan.

"You feelin' good baby?" He asks at a whisper, grinding his obvious erection into my front.

"Fuck yeah," I whine out, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

He grips me better, lifting me up to where the very edge of one of the shelves was under my ass, my legs wrapping around him. He uses one of his hands to help support my body, the other squeezing between us to rub his fingers along my soaked slit. A moan garbles from my throat, my body happy to feel direct stimulation.

His fingers alternate between rubbing along my folds, and dipping just a knuckle deep into me. I moan as I grind into his fingers, wanting more. He obliges, putting a finger fully inside and giving a few pumps before adding another.

"You're so wet for me." He whispers in my ear, scissoring his fingers to enunciate his point.

"Ngh... Fuck." I moan out, my core hot and wanting.

He pulls his fingers out, making a show to suck both fingers individually. Once all the juices were licked off his hand moves back down, though this time it's to his own pants. He skillfully unbuckles and opens his pants with one hand, his impressive cock being freed to the cool air. I could drool right now, his cock long and thick; a prime example of good meat.

He pumps his dick a few times, unable to get eye contact with how hard I stared. "You want it?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"Uh-huh," I answer, unable to think of anything but the cock in front of me.

He shifts slightly, then the pair watch as his cock slides into my soaked slit. He goes slow, pleasure shooting throughout my entire body at every inch he gives me. He groans once he's fully sheathed inside me.

I mewl as he begins to thrust, gripping onto his jacket as I grind my hips into him in sync with his movements. He slides his arm around my waist, supporting my weight so he could slide his fingers up my dress and back on my nipples.

"Fuck!" I moan, fingers going white as he speeds up and pinches my nipples. I can feel an orgasm coming, my hips grinding harder as my eyebrows furrow. I've had my focus on his shirt since his cock first entered me, and the look on Hawks face was enough to send me over. His eyes were hazy yet his face looked serious, eyes glued to my tits that were exposed while he played with them.

My back arched and my knuckles turned white, the hero name coming from my lips in an elongated moan as my head dropped back. His thrusts never slowed, and it felt like the euphoric feeling would never stop.

My breath quickens, the high pleasure making my head feel as if it was in the clouds.

Hawks shift the position, pulling my tits from the top of my dress before wrapping his arms around me. His hands are in my hair, gripping without actually pulling. His forehead touches mine, and he's got a cocky grin.

"You cum fast Y/n." He speaks lowly, eye contact never breaking. "Think you could cum again for me?"

I can't speak, loud moans the only thing my mouth does when I part my lips. Instead, I shake my head, yes, his cock hitting a new spot inside me that has me well on my way to doing what he wants.

He moves his head until his face is in the crook of my neck, his hips now pistoning with vigor as he kisses my damp skin. One hand has an iron grip on the back of his coat, the other in his soft locks. He's stopped kissing my neck, and the grunts and airy moans from his lips sound angelic.

The dam breaks again, my entire body going rigid as my pussy walls clamp around the thick cock inside me. My body is shaking as what is easily the best orgasm of my life flows through me.

"Ahh~ shit!" Hawks curses as he pulls himself out, the first spurt hitting my soaked pussy before my dress slides down and warm cum coats it.

Our breath is rigid, neither of us moving. Hawks was still in my neck, our limbs a tangle as we let our orgasm high come down. Hawks is the first to move, carefully holding me as my legs dropped down. I was far too shaky for him to let go, so Hawks held onto my waist until my legs could support me.

We finally pull away, Hawks fixing his pants while I realize the damage to my dress. Pulling my boobs back into the dress, I notice the neckline was stretched out. Looking down I also realize just where most of the hero's cum went. There were two white streaks up the bottom of my dress, the hem between the two streaks also painted white.

"oh no..." I groaned out at the sight of myself.

Hawks eyes go wide before he looks what only could be described as bashfulness. "I'm sorry, maybe turn your dress inside out?"

Though at close inspection, the inside hem was white as well, this side didn't look like cum at least. I turn away as I quickly turn my dress inside out, only realizing as I reach for the apron that I had shown modesty towards a man who had his cum on me. With the apron on, my ruined neckline was hidden away. I face Hawks again, "Decent?"

"Gorgeous," He replies with a flirty tone. "You'll need to fix your hair, but in all, you don't look freshly fucked." He answers with earnestly.

I blush at how brazen he is, but I'm happy I don't look as dirty as I felt. The loud ringing of the store phone makes me jump out of my skin, wide eyes turning to the wall phone by the door. I answer, blushing when I realize it's my boss, did she know?"

"So how many decorations do we have??" Annati asked.

I stuttered, realizing I was too busy with hero dick to count the festival decorations Annati had asked of me.

"Was the store busy? If you haven't gotten to it yet just text it to me!" She replies, thinking nothing of how disheveled I sounded.

"O-of course! I just got the box down, I'll let you know soon!" I tell her, happy to get off the phone right after. Hawks is beside me again.

"When you find your phone, put this in it." He hands her a piece of paper, numbers written neatly on it. He opens the door, pausing so he could speak, "It's been fun, we should meet up sometime." With a final peace sign, the Pro hero walks out the door and heads to the cafe front door. I watch him, feeling smitten at the reality of it all.

A hero wanted to fuck, and wants to do it again.

[airi-p4]

From above the stars - Chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | ...

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This is my fav chapter yet. I hope you enjoy 🥺🥺🥺

Chapter summary:

Marinette keeps visiting Gabriel, but it's getting harder as she's starting to move on. At the same time, she recalls some memories of the past while Luka opens up to her about his feelings.

AO3

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER 6

Visiting Gabriel Agreste was getting harder as the time went by. Mourning Adrien and his wife was everything Adrien's father seemed to be invested in. No more designing or new collections, his big fashion company was being now leadered by his loyal secretary, even if it was temporarily. Sometimes, they would rely on Marinette’s old designs too, noticing most of them were inspired by her late boyfriend.

Whenever Marinette was at the Agreste Mansion, they would spend most of the time either in silence or listening to Adrien's piano recordings. Sometimes, Gabriel would melancholically recall some of his family memories, from the times they were happy- the time they were alive and together. Other times, they would look at some photos, both recent and old: Adrien's first day at school (the day they first met), Adrien's photoshoots (always looking handsome), his fencing and piano competitions (which Marinette would never failed to attend) or the events the Agrestes would usually attend (recently allowing Marinette to go too after Adrien's insistence). Every single memory brought tears to Marinette's eyes. She missed him.

Every single time she cried, Gabriel would pat her back or squeeze her hand in comfort, thanking her for loving his son, which would lead to more spilled tears from her eyes.

Guilt kept growing inside of her. Her heart was gradually getting farther from her boyfriend and closer to feeling alive again. She was well aware these visits would have to end someday, no matter how Gabriel Agreste tried to keep her close. She was aware how she was being used by him in order to feel his son closer- as a way to keep him alive in his life- a mere substitute.

____________________________________

One day, at the cemetery, she couldn't focus. She left some flowers for Adrien but she soon hurried to the Couffaine's family tombstone. Luka wasn't there. 'Yet', she wished to believe. With both positive and negative thoughts going back and forth, she lost herself in darkness once again.

"You're still here?"

The sudden voice startled her, but she could finally smile and cry in relief: Luka.

Marinette jumped to hug the guitarist as soon as she turned towards him. Her sudden reaction worried him.

"Marinette? Are you ok? What happened?" He asked, holding her.

"I- I was worried… and scared…. You were late and I thought... I don't want... to lose you too..." she whined in her low voice.

"Hey, I'm here. Everything is ok. I would never stop visiting my sisters. I can't always be here, but I try to come as much as I can"

"Can I trust you? Can I believe you won't disappear like Adrien, out of the sudden, without saying goodbye to me?"

"I-” he hesitated, making Marinette’s heart sink lower. Her sad face gave him the courage to sincerize with her. “I would never voluntarily leave without saying goodbye... As long as I can, and unless anything unexpected impedes me to come, I’ll be here. I promise. You're important to me, Marinette." He reassured her. ‘ More than you could ever imagine ’ he kept to himself.

The young woman's grip became stronger, relieved for his words, and they spent some time in that position, Marinette hugging Luka and he holding her back as she cried on his chest.

“Are you free tonight? I want to show you something that may cheer you up”, Luka said, when her tears finally stopped.

“Huh? Yes… I’m free but… where are we going?” She tilted her head back to look up to Luka, her eyes still wet.

“Here. Where we are now”

“But… if we are already here why do we have to come back later?” she blinked in confusion and Luka smiled softly at her.

“You'll see” he whispered to her ear, making her blush in the process. “I have to go now, but do me this favor, Marinette. Meet me here at 10 PM. And don't forget to wear warm clothes. I'll take care of the rest"

“Ok…" she blinked twice, still red. "I'll be here"

"Good," he smiled. "See you later, Marinette"

After he lightly rubbed her back, Marinette finally broke her hold and watched him fade away in the distance. She forgot to ask him for his contact again but, at least, they had promised to meet later: a promise she believed he wouldn't break. ' What would Luka want to show me? ' she wondered when she returned home. Her heart beated faster in anticipation.

_______________________________________________

“Wow” Marinette exclaimed, holding Luka's arm close in front of his family tombstone.

“See? My antecesors chose this spot because it’s perfect to see the stars”

“It’s amazing… so bright… so pretty..."

Marinette's eyes couldn't stop staring at the night sky. It was her first time staring at the firmament properly, and she was stunned by how beautiful it was. She regretted not having properly stargazed earlier.

Pleased with the magic the reflection of the stars on Marinette's shining pupils were offering him, Luka moved his hand to hold hers, taking her by surprise. He smiled fondly at Marinette and she blushed at his touch. “There’s more. Come with me up the hill”

Luka guided her with his hand through the dark, holding a little lantern in his left hand. There was a picnic mat with a pair of blankets, a backpack and a pair of thermos. But that wasn't what Marinette's attention focused on: a wide beautiful starry sky appeared in front of them, nothing invading the majestic view. Luka gently pulled the breath-taken woman to the picnic mat, and gently signaled her to sit down.

“Wow! It’s so beautiful” she finally said, with her twinkling eyes fixated on the stars. "Do you think your sisters are up there, in the starry sky?” she moved her face to look at Luka for a moment.

“I’m sure of it." Luka answered, nostalgic. "Your boyfriend is probably there too...”

“You think so...?”

“Yes. He wasn’t a saint, but he was probably not a bad person either, when you love him that much. Lay down. You’ll get a better vision of the sky”

“This is so beautiful, Luka… No wonder your sisters loved this view… Oh! Did you see that? A shooting star! Do you think a soul is getting reincarnated now?” she exclaimed.

“I don’t know." He shrugged. "But it would be nice if the people we love so much could come back”

Marinette stopped smiling, noticing the sadness in his voice. She felt guilty and remorseful for being part of the reason for his grief. Actions with consequences she could never erase from their hearts.

“I wish I could go back in time and change everything. I’m so sorry… Your sisters are gone because of me… I wish I could erase my wrongdoings so they could still be alive…” She said in regret.

But Luka said nothing, he just squeezed her hand and let her cry a little. “You won’t see the stars if you cry…” he finally said. “Share this view with me, Marinette. For them”

“For them…”

______________________________________________

Marinette didn’t notice when she had fallen asleep. The sun was starting to rise and the sunlight awakened her. She turned her head to see her hand was still locked with Luka’s hand, who was sleeping. She glanced at his face then, and he looked serene, in peace. She could notice some dried traces of tears remained under his eyes. She was grateful to him, even more than remorseful.

“Thank you, Luka” she whispered, kissing his cheek.

“You’re welcome, Marinette”

She didn’t expect him to open his eyes and turn his face to her, merely a few centimeters separating them, eyes locked. She was partly glad he wouldn’t be able to see her flustered cheeks from this close, even if that was exactly the source of her redness.

“You’re awake. Sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

“Yes, I know you didn’t mean anything more than thanks. I understand. You love your boyfriend”

Marinette's heart skipped a beat at his words. She paused for a moment before finding the answer she had been looking for a while, feeling ready to finally put it into words.

“Loved. I think I’m ready to move on now…”

"What about destiny and soulmates?" Luka asked, surprised by her unexpected answer.

"I don't believe in them anymore... How could I?” she sighed. “I've already accepted that Adrien is gone and… I feel ready to find my own destiny now" She said, sincerely, but careful not to spill the secret feelings she had for him.

“Really...?” Luka asked, incredule at first, but immediately convinced by the confidence in her eyes. “You're very brave, Marinette. I'm glad you're feeling better”, he smiled, squeezing her hand in support.

“What about you, Luka?” She changed the topic, meeting an unusually distracted Luka.

"Hm?”

"You helped me feel better. I want to help you too. What would make you happy?"

“Me?" he paused, thinking for his answer. Marinette had been honest with him, and he wanted to do the same. He decided to share the feelings that had bottled up since he got the news of the tragic accident. "I wish I had been the one that died instead of my sisters. I wish I hadn’t let them go. I wish I had driven them to that mountain. With my mother's van, the damage would have been less severe, and they would probably still be alive. My mother is dealing with depression and anxiety now and it’s very hard to see her like that when she used to be so strong and independent... I can’t bear to see how the people I care about keep dying and leaving me behind. I wish I could go back in time… Use a savepoint… You know, like in videogames… Something called 'Second Chance', maybe. That's what I wish for”

Marientte didn’t know what to say. Her heart could almost feel his pain. He may have not lost his soulmate, but he lost his father and his dear sisters. She should have known he would be heartbroken. She should have known his heart was in pain. She should have been helping him more instead of letting him help her. She saw him vulnerable for the first time, and her heart ached for him. How silly she was to expect him to return her growing feelings, when his heart, unlike hers, had yet to heal. Her tears couldn’t be stopped as they joined his.

“Oh, Luka, I’m so sorry… I wish I could do something for you…” she sobbed, pressing her head on his shoulder.

“You are already, Marinette. Don’t feel obligated to do more out of regret. I know my wish is impossible to accomplish. We can’t go back in time. The only thing I can do now is let them go in peace… watch them in the sky...” he caressed her hair. “I wish I was as strong as you are. I wish I could believe in hope too”

“Luka…” ‘ You’re my hope ’ she wanted to say, but his words cut her before she had the chance to finish.

“And what about your memories, Marinette? Are they back?”

“Some of them are, yes. And you were right… It wasn’t all happy moments. I was blinded by my love for Adrien…” Marinette sighed. “He was jealous and manipulative sometimes, and I always ended up doing whatever he wanted. He always put himself first... except during the accident. But he wasn’t a bad person. He was very sweet, kind and attentive too. He just had a difficult and lonely childhood and he was scared of being alone… I loved him very much, still do, in another way... He just had bad luck. With family, with friends, with co-workers, school… Coping with his father stressed him too much… I wish I had taken him to therapy or something… Maybe he wouldn’t have had to rely on risk, fun, alcohol and adrenaline instead… I should have acted by myself more...”

“I can imagine that… You did what you could, Marinette. It wasn’t your fault” he empathized. “Anything else you remember?”

“No… Just this” she answered, trying to recall something she could have missed.

“Ok...” Luka kept his eyes closed, but something in Luka's voice alerted Marinette.

“Luka. Why do you keep asking about my memories? Is there something I’m supposed to remember?” She sounded slightly irritated.

“I don’t know”

“Luka…” she insisted. “Have we met before? Somewhere in the past…"

He finally opened his eyes and looked directly at her. “Why?”

Marinette gulped before speaking, staring at his eyes while looking for an answer. “You... seem familiar. And I have the impression we’ve known each other for a long time… But I can’t recall it no matter how hard I try to...”

“It’s better this way” he mumbled in an almost inaudible voice.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Don’t stress over it. Some memories are better forgotten, anyway” he assured,  squeezing her hand. "Let's go home"

"Wait!" she screamed, surprising Luka. "Can I have your contact?"

The guitarist smiled, pretending not to notice the blush on her cheeks. "Of course"

Luka lifted Marinette's hand and gently wrote his number on her wrist, secretively under her watch. Marinette smiled, feeling lighter and relieved. Her heart felt closer to his. She was happy to understand more about him, even if it included his darkest fears. She wanted to help him, and she finally found where to start.

"Luka" she said, and he met her determined eyes. "Don't give up. Live . For the ones that left you behind"

Finally, she had found the courage to tell him the words that had been keeping her alive and hopeful. Now it was her turn to be there for him.

"Thank you, Marinette"

[the-sunshine-dims]

Amnesia rewrite!

i remember how much i loved writing the amnesia series and once i realized i was coming up on my 100th fic i realized what fic would be better to my 100th then an amnesia rewrite!

ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7

original fic

words: 1,411

ao3

contents and warning: blood, blood loss, injury, angst, hurt/comfort, roman helps, amnesia, hurt janus, grieving, crying,

summary: Janus got hurt and cant remember anything up to a certain point, which means he doesn't remember the split of creativity, or their names getting revealed, and a lot else, and during Janus having amnesia there's a lot of healing, and not only from him.

or Janus somehow stumbled into the imagination, got amnesia, and now there's angst and hurt/comfort, maybe even fluff

____

Janus stumbled out of the foresty wilderness-clad imagination, not remembering much, and not remembering just how much he’d forgotten, not even remembering how he had ended up in imagination, he did remember a couple things, even if they were a couple of the simpler things, such as, he was Thomas’s “deceitful” trait, he was also Thomas’s “self preservation” though that was just a fancy word for Janus protected thomas.

and another thing he knew was that the blood splatter that had gotten in his hair and was soaking through his shirt was very not good.

But some things he didn’t know were possibly some of the most important things, such as the painful split of king creativity, and the painful memories of being locked away with the label of “darksides” and “snake tricking thomas into sinning”, and everyone telling thomas their names. 

But, currently it didn’t matter what he remembered, he had to clean himself up and figure out if all of the blood was his ..or someone else’s, or both, and he had to figure out if it was better if it was his or someone else’s.

He tried his best to take a deep breath, hoping it would help the painful headache he had go away, but it just came out shaky and it helped none, so with nothing else to do he just tried his best to get back to his room, after getting a quarter way to where he thought it would be he had to begin leaning on the wall, feeling faint, before trying his best to continue.

But when he reached the first open room he’s seen he didn’t recognize it, maybe morality just got bored and redecorated? He didn’t know.

Once he enters, for a minute all he wants is to stay there, it’s warm, and just bright enough to be the perfect place to take a nap, like Thomas’s grandma's living room, with the big windows facing the couch, just so comfortable of an atmosphere, he shakes his head at himself ignoring the immediate flare of pain it causes, he needs to get to his room, then he can wash up and take a nap, he just needs to wait to find his room.

He sighs about to try and leave and hope to not get more lost,

Then he saw them.

A side, a side he’s never seen before, sitting on one of the armchairs and staring at him like with a vigilante- almost annoyed gaze

They were a taller side, outfit almost like a prince, with a bright red sash, maybe they were a new side? Maybe something to do with inspiration? Or something else creative? That would explain the similarities to creativity, Regardless though even if they weren't something to do with creative stuff janus was sure creativity would like them, creativity liked everyone.

And while Janus was partially confused because he was having a kinda hard time processing he still was about to go make a move to greet the new side.

That was until the side snapped out “deceit.” Sounding annoyed. Making his blood go cold, and his eyes widened and everything in him filled with self preservation in a single moment because how did he know his trait this was a new side how did he know.

Suddenly the blood that’s made his already dark clothes darker and long since dried on his hair is overly noticeable now and he feels like he should flee as his gaze flicks across the entire room in an instant looking for possible exits.

He took a unnoticeable steadying breath before going “who- who are you?” He asks, almost hissing under his breath at just how shaky it was, he’s supposed to be strong to protect Thomas! Not shaky just because someone he didn’t know, knew something as simple as one of his traits.

The side seemed startled by the question, several unnamed emotions flitting across his face in a couple moments before it settled on base level confusion as Janus began looking around the room again, nervousness evolving slightly when he realized nothing was the same, the couch was moved along with the coffee table and the everything else he didn’t even think the framed photos were in the same place-

Then he saw a particular photo, it had morality, logic, anxiety (though he’s changed a lot), and this side.

Then he looked at the other photos and he noticed a particular lack of someone.

Creativity

and the more he looked there wasn’t any trace of him, no left out art supplies, no hand-crafted pillows, nothing.

He snapped his head back to this side and desperately asked “where’s creativity?” He really hoped that the sides were just pulling a mean and really badly timed prank.

This side is slowly destroying that hope when he looks absolutely startled by that and instead of- well anything, he just confusedly goes “..I’m creativity?” 

Janus’s hands begin shaking aggressively after he’s processed the information, and suddenly he felt really overwhelmed “no- no no that’s not possible! You- you’re not creativity! He’s tall and he- he always has this big goofy grin! He- and he has this cape he made himself though it’s pretty much just a blanket wrapped around his shoulders!-“ tears had been spilling from his eyes as he went on, beginning to hold his shaky form with his shaky arms, and beginning to retract into himself “and- and he has fake roses on hand at all time despite- despite him knowing they get caught in his shirt everytime- and- he's not gone! I was just here and he and logic were trying to build a puzzle! He-“ he hiccuped “he was just here..” he sobbed, not meeting this ‘creativity’’s eyes and just staring at the floor instead though he couldn't see anything beyond vague shapes.

There was a long uncomfortable silence as Janus tried to breathe before the person spoke “creativity.. was split into me and my brother.. don’t you remember?”

Janus looked up at him and just shook his head sorrowfully before taking a big breath and trying his best to speak though it just came out as a quiet “no..” so quiet Roman almost didn’t hear it.

Janus wanted to go home. 

He looked at the floor again, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact and not cry.. again.

That was until he felt a small tug on his shirt sleeve and the side was looking at him so concerned and he didn’t say anything but he backed away just a tiny bit and opened up his arms in a clear invitation, one which Janus immediately took up, catapulting himself into his arms and just.. sobbing.

Roman tried, if somewhat stiffly to comfort him, using his spare arm that wasn't wrapped around Janus to try and brush through Janus’s hair, that was what patton did when they were upset.

Or that was the plan, instead he felt a weird dry patch in Janus’s hair and when he looked closer it was dark red, he froze, knowing that the only real option for what it was was dried blood since he didn’t suppose Janus was the type to randomly dye his hair red and decide not too, a quarter way through, so he took a breath before beginning to speak “okay, umm, you're kinda bleeding, and I don’t think I would know how to care for whatever injury caused the bleeding properly so.. I think it would be best to go to Logan.”

Janus seemed half conscious because he just slowly blinked, trying to see if he somehow knew the name somehow, and after a minute Roman realized Janus didn't recognize the name so he explained “Logic, not long ago with the rest of us, shared his name with us, which is Logan,” he told him, and deciding it might be good to tell him more he just slowly went “you did too, you told us your name was Janus.”

Janus hummed, taking the information and processing it slowly, his fatigue and exhaustion finally affecting him, eventually he nodded to himself and with that Roman decided Janus wouldn’t be physically or emotionally fit to walk with him to Logan's room safely.  so he carefully and slowly picked Janus up, half expecting some fight but instead Janus just practically curled up against his chest, his head beginning to loll in in a single moment.

And then Roman was off to Logan's Room.

[the-peachpit]

Between the Lines

Ship: Shorter Wong x (Y/N)

Summary: Shorter and (y/n) are fighting about the future. (y/n) want’s to apologize, but what if Shorter can never forgive her?

Opening your laptop, you pick your favorite spotify playlist before looking around the room of the small apartment you shared with your boyfriend and friends. Hands on your hips you knew you were supposed to start packing but finding the best place to start was impossible. Every time one of your fingers so much as touched anything you were whisked away down memory lane. From shirts that you got when you first moved to New York planning to only stay for a year-it had been four- to the fake rose Shorter had bought for you the day you met. That memory took hold hard, mostly because of the disagreement you and Shorter had been passively aggressively maneuvering around for days. While living in New York you found a job in journalism, mostly freelance writing articles here and there. It wasn’t enough anymore to be some anonymous writer; you had seen your fair share of tragedy and a burning desire was lit deep in your chest to be more. Max- the man who had taken you under his wing- suggested you attend a college in California the degree could rally ramp up your career. At first the idea sounded nuts, the school was insanely expensive, and renting a town house was currently stretching you thin enough. Knowing Max came with a secret perk though he used contacts to get you in on a huge scholarship. Mostly because they could say the prodigy of Max Lobe- the man who took down New York’s biggest mafia family on a pedophilia scandal- was attending. Max gave you the news over dinner, and of course you wanted to go.

Laying back on the bed as Rose by Briston Maroney played you twirled the plastic rose in between your fingers. Shorter had given the rose the day he met you like a true fool who believed in love at first sight. Of course, you were skeptical and only believed in a player at first sight. If Eji, who you trust with your life, hadn’t vouched for him you never would have even entertained the idea. Rolling your eyes, you took the rose in a ha-ha sort of way. Shorter had taken it as a win and asked you on a date to his own restaurant. Twice you turned him down, it was the third time that did the trick. Though you had just been saved by him so that may have helped. You were shopping near China Town with Eji when the two of you were jumped and taken hostage. Eji was being used for ransom and your head was spinning. That was also the day you found out about the gang activity Ash and Shorter were a part of. It didn’t scare you like Shorter was afraid it would. Instead you accepted his date offer kind of asking him yourself.

He closed the restaurant down and it was just the two of you. Shorter hosted his own date taking you to your table, picking wine, cooking. He had the whole thing down, like he really had been planning it since the day you met.

Four years later here resting your hand back down on the sheets looking up at the ceiling. Shorter hadn’t come home for two days, Ash promised he was safe, but the last words Shorter had mumbled under his breath were ‘you wouldn’t make it out there,’ and you exploded it was the final straw as you screamed at him to leave. Shorter left without another word. You’d never screamed like that at him, he’s never stayed gone for so long with zero communication. Eyes darting around the room, you decided packing was impossible there were still two weeks till departure and that was more than enough time to put your life in a couple suitcases and leave everyone behind.

Walking downstairs the TV is playing softly and you know Eji is using it for noise. Catching him red handed in the kitchen you find him making himself a snack carefully cutting vegetables. Eji was the only reason anyone in the house didn’t live off pasta or Chinese food -courtesy of Shorter. Max helped balance their diets sometimes, but usually brought a lot of deserts with him. Not that anyone complained, Max really played the Dad role in the house. Eji was short with black hair and dark brown eyes. You never missed an opportunity to tease him about his height which he blamed on his Asian genes, until you bring up Shorter is in fact not short, and taller than Ash. That gets Eji red in the face, today though the spark wasn’t there. Instead you opted to swipe a cucumber from his cutting board.

Eji stopped cutting all together to put his hands on his hips, “It’s dangerous for you to just grab stuff like that while I’m cutting, (y/n).”

You laugh, “It’s not like you’re going to cut my fingers off. Or are you that clumsy?”

Eji resumed cutting, “Maybe it won’t be an accident, you did break one of my favorite photo frames.” He pointed the knife your way.

“Wait a minute, Ash is the one who threw the pillow!” You protest.

“You’re the one who tried to braid his hair while he was sleeping,” Eji brought up a smile creeping across his face.

“You knew his hair was getting long and you wanted to do the same thing. It looked cute!” You whine walking to the island leaning against the wooden top.

Eji laughed, he had a cute laugh that went up and octave, “He looked great, I tried to convince him to wear it that way.” He sighed, “Instead he had to go and cut it,” Eji whined.

Walking over Eji placed a plate of cut assorted vegetables and ranch. Picking up a carrot round you inspected it turning it between your fingers like the rose.

“Has Shorter bene home?” You ask hoping maybe he snuck in while you were gone.

Eji shook his head, “No.”

“Have you heard from him?” The desperation in your voice betrays you.

Eji shakes his head again without saying a word. The frown on the face gives it all away, he feels bad, he’s been in the situation of not knowing where his lover was. Sympathy radiates off him in waves as you bite into another carrot round and think about packing, or maybe not going at all.

Hearing the front door creak open your heart skips a beat as you look over, only slightly disappointed to watch a disgruntled blonde walk in. Running his fingers through his blonde locks Ash came up to the counter grabbing a slice of cucumber. About a million questions run through your brain at once, but you know he has something on his mind. He never walks in so silently; Ash is always sure to announce his presence as not to startle anyone into thinking it’s a break in. It’s an old habit everyone kept from when Ash was hunted down just a few short years ago. As much as you watched Ash, Eji, Sorter, hell even Max joke around, you knew the fear was still there. Harbored deep down.

Finally, Ash swallows and his green eyes won't dare connect with yours.

“I’m going to Coney Island for few days,” Ash announced.

Eji turned his face screwed immediately into worry, “When are we going?”

“You’re staying here,” Ash’s voice was firm, he’d made his decision.

Though if anyone was stubborn and could change the Lynx mind it was Eji.

“I’ll pack a bag,” Eji didn't take no for an answer.

Ash sighed, “Come on Eji, it’s an easy job, it’s just Arthur causing problems. Squashing him back down won’t take more than the weekend.”

“Going alone is stupid,” Eji crossed his arms officially meaning business.

“Do I ever go alone?”

Eji grunted.

“Look I’m going with, Cain,” Ash paused, “And Shorter.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you realize why he hasn’t looked at you since he got in. The air in the apartment changes tremendous tension at the name of the man with a purple mohawk.

“Is he coming here?” You ask.

“Sorry (y/n), I’m actually going to meet him in china town,” Ash played with the collar of his shirt.

You feel your guts twist the butterflies dying and anger filling your cheeks turning them red. You bang your fist against the countertop.

“Why!” You shout your voice echoing startling yourself.

Silence sits in the room, your own voice still echoing in your ears. Slowly you lay your head on the cool varnished wood.

“He can’t avoid me forever,” You mumble, “We have to talk about this.”

It didn’t sit right with you, to just let it fester any longer your heart was breaking already the thought of him just being angry with you. You wanted to understand why he was so upset with you leaving.

“Plus, I need to apologize,” You pick your head up, “I was out of line screaming at him to leave.”

Eji turned up his nose, “From what I heard he was just as much at fault.

You raise a brow towards Eji, “How much did you hear.”

Eji jumped a little, “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he put his hands up in defense, “But I could hear you guys down the hall.”

Once again, the silence overtook the kitchen. You guys really had been properly arguing.

“I want to go,” You look at Ash trying to channel Eji’s determination.

“Neither of you are going,” Ash put his foot down, “It’s too dangerous.”

You stand up, “Seriously Eji’s been,” you’re cut off by a knife falling to the floor.

Looking over Eji is picking up the kitchen utensil apologizing. He keeps his dark eyes on the knife as he places back on the counter.

“If it’ll just take the weekend, we’ll see you Sunday night than,” Eji beamed his eyes closed.

Ash nodded crossing the threshold of the island hugging Eji tightly. You saw the way Eji’s dark eye’s looked dim as he returned the hug his face just popping over Ash’s shoulder. Without another word Ash walked upstairs presumably to his bedroom. You kept your eyes down on the wooden floor listening to the footsteps creaking across the little house.

“If I couldn’t get through to Ash this time there’s no way you could,” Eji leaned back against the counter.

“But he let you go on dangerous jobs all the time,” You finish your rebuttal.

“I knew you were going to bring that up,” Eji shook his head, “Ash did everything to keep me safe, he always told me to stay behind, but I never listened.”

“Sound’s about right,” You snicker not used to seeing Eji so serious and you weren’t sure what to say, “Why are you listening this time?”

“Because I think I know why he wants me to stay.”

“If you say because of me,” You point at Eji, “I’ll come over there and sock you.”

Eji stuck his tongue out at you, “Of course it’s you, but not you. More like imagine how Shorter would deal with it post argument, he couldn’t focus someone would get hurt. Besides you only caught the end of our adventure, you never saw what happened in the center, it was rough. Especially on Shorter and Ash.”

You feel your shoulders sag, he was right, you were there to help Max break the story. The last major part in the chaos you took part in was finding Ash in the library.

“Say goodbye to him for me,” You wave off Eji. You couldn’t stand to see Ash off currently.

Grabbing your coat off the hook you could practically feel Eji’s eyes boring holes in the back of your skull.

“I’m not going where you think I’m going,” You huff, “It’s purely coincidence.”

“(y/n),” Eji warns.

“I’m serious, call Max and ask,” You open the door and can hear the footsteps rushing down the hall.

Slamming the door for fun and out of spite and head towards the subway.

While waiting for the train you sit on a bench and pull out your phone realizing on a normal day you would have been long gone to work already. There’s no way you would have stumbled into Ash, Shorter would have slipped away without a trace. You could feel the anger rising in your gut, you had half a mind to go back and really give Ash what for. Every time you and Ash started a shouting match though somehow Eji would diffuse it-or Ash would win. Clenching your phone, you tap your foot angrily looking down the platform. Where the hell was the train, you wanted to get far away from the crazy-at least for a few hours.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You look up at a pair of dark eyes slightly covered by dark bangs a figure shorter than Eji standing there.

“What do you want Sing?” You sigh sitting back against the metal bench.

Sing take a seat next to you his signature smirk plastered across his face, “I was in the neighborhood, and Ash called asking me to find out if you were doing anything dumb.”

You had half a mind to at this point, “It’s not me it’s Shorter,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“Wow you guys really are fighting!” Sing looked like he was in awe.

“Oh good,” Your voice goes up an octave in sarcasm, “Everyone knows!”

“it’s hard not to,” Sing sticks his nose up, “Shorter’s been a real pain in the ass recently.”

You roll your eyes, “Tell me about it.” You look over catching Sing’s eyes and the two of you burst out into laughter.

You liked Sing he was a little younger than everyone else, but you could tell even while participating in gang activity he was growing up just fine. Always offering to walk you to see Shorter if he was too busy to leave the restaurant, and making you feel better when things with your gang leader boyfriend were tense and strained. Sing was easy to joke around with and didn’t treat you like an outsider of the tightly knit group that had formed. He believed in you 100 percent. The more you thought about it he was kind of like a cute little guard dog.

“Want some company wherever you’re going?”

“I don’t want to move you too far out of your way, I am going to Broadway to do paperwork for Max.”

Sing just waved you off, “I’m not doing anything anyway, I wasn’t invited to the shakedown.”

You snort and Sing started to gripe over the sound of the train pulling in. That was another thing about Sing, you knew he was capable, hell everyone did, but if they weren’t worried about protecting you or Eji -Sing was next on that list. Truly the little brother to the dynamic duo Shorter and Ash. One-time Sing had been late coming back from a drop off and Shorter was pacing the small livingroom practically pulling his purple hairs out. When Sing did show up Shorter was so mad, he hadn’t answered his phone. Turns out Sing had broken it and Ash bought him a new one the next day. Even as Sing insisted, he could pay for it.

Deciding to let Sing accompany you because it was better than riding alone to work the two of you swapped casual conversation about idle topics like tv shows or what new dishes Eji was trying.

“Man,” Sing leaned back while holding the brace bar, “You better bring me leftovers.”

You laughed, “Why don’t you just come over for dinner?”

Sing smiled and you’re reminded once again why you like talking to Sing so much. He was easy to talk to, he wasn’t as serious, he really brought your stress down a level. Sing stayed with you up until you got to the front of the small office building Max was operating out of.

“Thanks,” You wave as you start ascending the stairs.

“He’ll be fine after this weekend!” Sing shouted back.

You pause at the door looking back towards the bottom of the steps.

Sing gestures a thumbs up, “There’s no way Shorter will still be mad after a weekend away. I could already see his resolve crumbling when I talked to him earlier. He hates being away from you, and being angry,” he winked, “He’s kind of into you, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

You can feel the blush spreading through your cheeks as you giggle, “I won’t say a word.”

Dancing your way to the elevator clicking the button for the fifth floor you felt your heart fluttering in your chest. By the time Shorter was back you’d be packed, and everything would be fixed.

The elevator doors slid open and you met Max with a large smile even when he sheepishly presented you with a large stack of papers to proofread. The deadline was tight, and you knew you couldn’t give him an earful, he was the one getting you into a prestigious school, the work had to be done that day. It was a welcomed distraction as you sat at your desk and started knocking out articles.

It was nine o’clock when you finished and turning your brain off to Shorter had been the right move. Max drove you home asking about packing and giving you pointers for LA. You decided not to tell him about the drama, you’re not sure what he’d say. Though he was a married man you knew he had his own share of drama with his wife. Maybe you didn’t really want his advice.

Getting back to the small town house you see Eji sitting with the TV on watching an old movie, your dinner is int eh microwave. You already know how the night is going to go, it’s always the same when Ash and Shorter are out, dinner, snacks, movies, sticking close. The two of you may fall asleep on the couch, or in someone’s bed. You say nothing about what you think they may be doing, and you are each other’s company, there’s comfort in knowing someone is going through the same thing. Eji smiles and you know it’s hollow, he’s worried, you’re worried. You gently hold his hand and the weekend of silent hopes commences.

You’re practically bouncing off the walls Sunday night. You went with Eji to the store and started making a large meal that afternoon of the duo’s favorite foods. Unsure of Cain would be spending the night you guessed at what he might like.

“I’m inviting Sing,” You say already tapping on your phone.

The kitchen looked like a proper welcome home party with food, drinks, and a few decorations. There was a knock on the door, and you gestured for Sing to come in and make himself comfortable.

Around 11 o’clock you were starting to pace. You weren’t actually sure when they were getting in, hopefully sooner than later.

1 am was when you heard the first heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. The footsteps aren’t what woke you up though it was Eji getting off the couch jolting Sing awake. Slowly you adjusted to the bright lights you can’t believe you fell asleep with them on. Yawning and stretching the excitement of them coming home hasn’t hit you yet, your head is still fuzzy with sleep. Eji’s standing at the door like a puppy his hands clasped together patiently waiting with a sleepy smile on his face. For a moment it almost slips your mind why.

Crashing open the door seemed ready to burst from its hinges as everything moves too fast. Ash hobbled in leaning against Cain who had a strong grip around Ash’s waist. Eji was scrambling to Ash’s side while instructing Sing where the first aid kit was because you still hadn’t moved frozen to the couch. No wait- you were standing- when had you stood up? Eji was asking Cain what happened, but he sounded so far away, like his voice was coming through the walls. All at once the world that was chaotic and moving at lightning speed slowed. Sing ran back from the bathroom with the first aid kit, and you swore he was running through jell-o. Your feet moved, but you swore you hadn’t told them to. Padding across the hardwood floor in slip resistant kitten socks you push Eji to the side, your hands instinctively grab Ash’s collar. He lets you tug him down to meet your face. You feel hot and cold all at once as you stare into his dim green eyes.

“Where's Shorter?” You whisper simply.

Ash is silent Eji is grabbing your shoulder.

You shake the blonde haphazardly moving yourself more than him.

“Where’s Shorter!” You scream feeling the fat tears stream down your face.

“They got him,” Ash’s voice is hoarse.

“What do you mean they got him!” You can’t stop screaming.

“y/n” Eji’s voice still sounds like a faraway whisper.

“Arthur was a little more than we bargained for,” Cain answered gruffly, “Ash’s hurt pretty bad, Shorter let himself get chased and probably caught so we could get out.”

The tugging on your shoulder feels more forceful and you let yourself get pulled back releasing the death grip on Ash. Finger outlines kept his shirt collar pulled out. Stepping back further you let Eji and Sing attend to Ash and Cain in gentle calming voices. Sticking around to watch doesn’t sit right with you, and you can feel your stomach turning. Instead you run upstairs and enter your room. Slowly you close the door the air feeling like it was sucked out of the room right after. Shakily you put your hands over your mouth, your back sliding against the door. Crying on the floor next to the empty cardboard boxes that were never packed the room is too full- too full of Shorter.

[bh7theseriesblog]

The Origins of Big Hero 7

Big Hero 7: The Series

Origins

*A flicker of black and white starts up for a while, static noises barely blocks out a voice*

Umm…Hello? Can you hear me?

*the flickering and static stops as it shows a 14 year old girl with dyed blue hair and purple eye contacts*

Can you hear me? Oh it's working!

*The girl sits on the chair in front of the camera. She smooths out her sea green skirt as she clears her throat*

Hi! So…after some thinking I decided to make a video diary so I can remember what I said. After all, who knows when it'll come in handy right? Oh right! I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Cora Mizichio.

*Cora chuckles slightly before continuing*

So I guess I should start with my life and such. Let me warn you though, it's kind of a long and wild story.

*she pulls out a phone and starts showing pictures*

I have lived in San Fransokyo for my whole life with my Dad, Mizuchi and Grandmama, Kaguya. My mom, Akemi passed away when I was a baby.

*image of a blonde hair woman smiled warmly before switching to Cora and her family. Her father being Goliath in stature and her grandmother dressed in a kimono with a cane*

Then my family found out that I'm incredibly intelligent for my age. I suppose hacking into your father's computer to send a birthday card at the age of 4 does that. My Dad is very sweet and an old softie, but is very protective of me and wasn't sure that I should go to school. So I was homeschooled, it was fun being taught by Grandmama and such about Marine biology, but…I felt kind of lonely…

After all my studies, I actually made a habit of bot fighting disguised as an unknown cat-masked competitor under the name 'Nekodomo'. It earned good money since at the time Dad hadn't gotten any luck with jobs due to his height. But it was my very first night of bot fighting that I met him…Hiro Hamada

*she flips the photo to a young Asian boy her age, with messy raven hair, large almond brown eyes and a tooth gap in his smile.*

I've never had very much luck when it came to making or having friends, so if I someone told me that I would end up dating this guy I would had laughed. But yeah we did. I was paired up with Hiro in one of those special bot fighting events like the duo duel. We won, but than the cops were coming and I was so scared of getting caught that I couldn't move. But then the next thing I know Hiro grabs my hand and we were running like crazy before the cops even spot us! I have no idea how long we had been running, but to be honest I didn't really care because I was still awe-struck by the fact that Hiro had save me from getting arrested and we didn't even know each other at the time. But that was all about to change, because as we were finally approaching a safe distance from the cops, it was at that moment where I tripped and fell flat on my face, and at the same time broke my mask. Thankfully Hiro picked me back up and we started running again, with me leaving my broken mask behind. Once we finally stopped and knew we were safe, that was when Hiro and I actually first met face-to-face. Now I have to be honest with you, I've never really known if the whole 'Love at first sight' thing was actually real or not, but it's the only thing I can describe how I felt when I first looked into Hiro's eyes. It was there when we properly introduced ourselves to each other and after that, we started seeing each other more. And it was only after 4 months of hanging out together, that I finally got to meet his family, and he got to meet mine.

*The picture now showed Hiro with a woman holding a calico japanese bobtail cat and a young man on either side of him.*

The woman on his left is his Aunt Cass, she runs a coffee shop called the Lucky Cat Cafe. The young man on his right is his older brother Tadashi. And the adorably cute kitty-cat Aunt Cass is holding is Mochi, their family pet. They are really cool people, and they always asked how I was doing and such, and Mochi is such a sweet kitty that he always tries to cuddle up to me whenever I come over. Hiro and I actually became an official thing one night when I saved his butt from Yama's minions. And boy were they surprised! Aunt Cass actually bounced when Hiro told them that I'm his girlfriend! Dad and Grandmama met them that night too, while dad wasn't too happy at first about me dating, Grandmama convinced him…after hitting him on the head with her cane.

*Cora giggled at the memory*

Anyway, After a slight misadventure where Hiro and Tadashi landed in jail and Cass had to bail them out, Tadashi actually took Hiro to SFIT, San Fransokyo institute of Technology that same night. Hiro told me that he met Tadashi's friends. There's Gogo: the cool biker chick, Honey Lemon: the stylish Chem genius, Wasabi: Laser neat freak, and Fred: the secret Billionaire super hero geek. Afterwards Hiro and I actually applied to SFIT by entering the showcase! Hiro made these miniature robots he called Microbots which he can control via head transmitter, I on the other hand did super strength suction cup shoes that can stick on any surface. We both won and we…were gonna celebrate until…a huge fire broke out in the showcase building and Tadashi ran back inside to help Callaghan, a teacher at the school….he didn't make it…

*Cora turned quiet, looking at her hands as she takes a deep breath*

Hiro wasn't himself for a while. I visited him a lot since the fire, and I mostly talked and tried to comfort and be there for him. Then came the day Hiro stubbed his toe and Baymax came along.

*A picture of a white inflated figure came to the picture*

Baymax was Tadashi's project, a robotic nurse to be more specific. He heard Hiro say ow and activated to help him. Then one of Hiro's microbots started acting weird, and Baymax followed the direction it went! It was then we found a guy in a kabuki mask controlling the Microbots. But they were destroyed at the fire right? Once Hiro pieced together that it was the kabuki-masked man that started the fire to steal them, which in turned killed Tadashi…Hiro decided to build Baymax some armor which…well

*the next picture showed Baymax in protective gear*

We traveled down to the port where we saw him take some type of machine out of the ocean. But then it turns out Baymax called the gang to help us, but sadly the guy in the mask saw us. We barely escaped with our lives that night! Thankfully Baymax being a walking marshmallow, also makes him an inflatable raft too. Afterwards we got to Fred's mansion and discussed over what to do next. Side note: it was weird to see that Fred is a billionaire.

*shows portrait of a young Fred and his parents in classy attire*

Hiro and I then built ourselves armor to fight the guy in the mask. Honey lemon got this cute chemistry purse to pull out what she needed, Gogo got some sick skates to zoom past us, Fred got a killer Kaiju costume that breaths fire, Wasabi got awesome laser blades on the backs of his hands, and I got my aquatic camouflage suit with squid strength suction cup shoes! And learning back from his previous work, Hiro turned Baymax from a stay puff marshmallow with bicycle gear to an awesome superhero!

*the next photo shows Baymax in his red armor*

After training and flying around the city we got down to business. We flew to Akuma island where the masked guy was, and it was there we learned something interesting. Krei and some government officials had something called 'Project Silent Sparrow'. It backfired when the portal sucked everything in, and the pilot was stuck. But then the masked guy attacked us! We tried to fight back but….

*a small clip showed Fred jumping only to be punched away *

We bombed, big time.

Hiro and I got lucky to get the mask…but the person was not who we thought….

Turns out Callaghan grabbed the transmitter and used it and the Microbots to protect himself in the fire…leaving Tadashi to die….

It was then that Hiro took out Baymax's health care chip and ordered him to kill Callaghan…

*Cora took a deep breathe before standing up and leaving the room, she returned back with a glass of water and started drinking it. Once she was done She then continued.*

Thankfully the gang got Baymax back to normal but Hiro was furious. He just left with Baymax…but we eventually met up with Hiro at his place, with a video of Tadashi…it was also when we showed him what we discovered. The pilot was no random person Krei hired. She was Callaghan's daughter, and Callaghan was out for blood.

We got to Krei Tech where Callaghan got his portal running. Hiro then learned what we needed to do to beat him; instead of the mask, we take out the Microbots, then he'd be powerless. But despite that, the portal was still open, and ready to tear itself to pieces. Then Baymax dropped the biggest bomb on us, Callaghan's daughter was still alive in there.

Hiro and I got on Baymax to rescue her. We found her pod but Baymax's thrusters were wrecked from the debris…

Baymax…he got us out by rocket punch…but stayed behind in the portal…

It's been weeks since then…

Krei agreed to keep our identities a secret, Callaghan is in prison, and his daughter is making a steady recovery at the hospital. And the news had been exploding over 'the mysterious group of heroes' that saved the city.

Hiro and I had been doing good, we talked to the gang a lot and we actually reapplied to SFIT again.

*Cora then looks at the clock beside her and gasped*

Oh man it's almost midnight! And first day of class is tomorrow! Anyway, thank you for listening! And…Baymax…I don't know if you can hear me..but Hiro has been doing good. We all miss you…especially me and Hiro...wish us good luck, cause who knows what happens tomorrow.

*Cora smiles at the camera before turning it off.*

A.N: This is an updated look for the prolouge chapter of Big Hero 7: The Series!

Liking the new visuals? ;3

This chapter has been edited by WolfWitchHuntress1318 at Fanfiction.net! Thank you for being my patient editor! Thank you for following and reading Big Hero 7! Love ya!

[captainjimothycarter]

How about that AU where single parents Steggy meet because their kids meet each other in Pre-school and seem to recognize each other, and you get Steggy dismantling some horrible institution realizing their adopted from overseas toddlers were twins intentionally split up for 'reasons' and obviously you just gotta live together now man, twins can't be split again, guess we're together. Cause Maximoffs in New York, and Steve vs the hellion that is 4 year old Pietro.

 Something tells me that if I apologize for this being long, no one will complain, but anyway: I’m sorry for what I’m about to do and how I butcher this. OP, I love these prompts so much.

--

“You’re serious?”

Steve is fully aware that he doesn’t even know Peggy and he’s never seen her look more serious. She’s staring at him over the rim of her steaming coffee mug with an expression that says, you’re an idiot. Laid before them are a few folders, binders, and files, the contents spread out. This marked their life together.

The start of their life together.

It was late at night, Wanda was asleep with Pietro, curled up in his bed. The kid insisted she slept in the same bed and wouldn’t be told no and fuck, Steve couldn’t tell Wanda no. Not when she made that cute, little face that knew she’d get whatever she wanted. Besides, they couldn’t tear them apart again. They were toddlers who barely understood the situation. It’s not like the adults were doing much better.

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Steve let out a loud sigh and tensed. He waited to hear Wanda’s whimpers or Pietro’s groans, but none came. His eyes fell to the stranger before him, wondering how did they miss each other.

“You do understand that this isn’t our fault?” Peggy asks him in a soft tone as if she’s trying to convince herself. She lays her hand on his wrist, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the inside of Steve’s wrist. “We had no way of knowing. None. Even though background checks, I didn’t find anything that said this.”

“Doesn’t mean I feel any less guilty here.” He downed the rest of his coffee like it was a shot and made a face at the coffee grounds sliding down his throat. Ugh. That’s what he gets for a shitty coffee maker. “We didn’t do this but now we have the consequences. How do we repair…four years of that?!”

“Steven.” The way she said his name made him frown at her. He looked like one more surprise news away from a breakdown. Poor guy. He really has been working himself to the ground. “I adopted Pietro when he was three months old. You adopted Wanda when she was two. They were separated for whatever goddamn reason. We both took the kids to give them a better life. How the hell we wounded up meeting is-is fate, is all it is. It’s fate.”

“Reverse Parent Trap.” He muttered under his breath and Peggy snorted, looking utterly embarrassed that she snorted. He deserved that slap to his shoulder. It was odd, how close they felt and barely knew one another. All he knew that she was from England, she now lived in America, and she adopted the twin brother of his daughter. “So what do we do now? We can’t keep them away from one another, that’s fucking torture! We’re lucky they remembered each other. Or had some weird twin connection, hell if I know.”

The man was clearly frustrated and Peggy wanted to soothe him, but she had to keep her head on here. She looked back at the paperwork. The second they’d realized something was odd when she picked up Pietro from pre-K, Steve had rushed home to go get every document he ever had of Wanda and brought it back to her place.

The twins had to have some connection, didn’t they? They recognized one another, had some draw to it. When Steve saw them together, she gasped out loud because they looked so similar and not in the manner little kids do when they’re young. It took a DNA swab test designed by Stark Industries to work in under an hour to confirm their suspicions.

Explaining that the kids were not so much easier. There were endless questions and Wanda’s assumptions they split them up before Peggy had to prove that no they didn’t. It was the people in the hospital. Then Pietro’s declaration that all hospital people were bad and Steve tried to gently explain no they weren’t because sometimes bad, bad mistakes happen. So far, that’s all they could do was chuck this up to mistakes. They weren’t exactly sure. Besides, his ma was a nurse and she wasn’t bad.

“What do we do now?” Peggy mused, taking their coffee mugs and setting them in the sink. She started to clean the table with Steve’s help, carefully organizing everything together. She stared at the photo of Wanda on Steve’s shoulders in front of some museum, then of hers with Pietro on a goddamn child leash because he loved to try to run off. “I think you know. We can be civil about it.”

“Or…” Steve stood up and gently took the binder from her arms. There was a glint in his eyes as he took her hands and gently pressed a few kisses along her fingertips. It’s the boldest he’s been since he arrived at her apartment. “We don’t go about it civil. The first thing you did when you saw me was check out my ass.” Peggy’s ears turning pink told Steve he was right. “We can go about this the right way or…our way.”

If Peggy had anything to say, Steve didn’t hear it. Her lips were on his, his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

--

“So when is their birthday?” Howard asked, frowning as he watched the toddlers play with the water guns in the kid’s play area of Stark Industries.

Steve hated this. It felt like an interrogation room with the mirrored glass. They weren’t criminals. They were kids. Confused kids. “We don’t know,” he replied, turning to look at Peggy where she was bending over to study some flight plans charted on the table. That was Peggy, alright, newly appointed aviator of Stark Industries, Steve’s girlfriend [God that made him giddy], and an old-fashion soul. She loved computers but loved everything else handheld and on paper, so the charts were easier. “Pegs? Peggy.”

Peggy jumped and turned around, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I was double checking my courses. I swear, I didn’t lose that shipment,” she mumbled, still hung up on the situation. “Anyway, yes? What is it?”

“Birthday, Pegs,” Howard rolled his eyes and slid in the rolling chair to the table she was at. He rolled up the chart much to her pouting. “When are their birthdays? If you want me to get their paperwork right and set up properly, I need to know.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he liked Howard Stark. The man was eccentric, a ball of energy. He didn’t know when to sit still and bounced from one side of the room to the next. He was balls to the wall when hyped up about something. But he was Peggy’s friend and boss, so he set his opinions aside to focus on the matter at hand. They couldn’t trust many people with this information, Peggy had asked Howard to design the twins paperwork to reflect that they were twins and family and Steve and Peggy both were their parents.

“We’re unsure. Steve’s paperwork for Wanda says April 19th. Mine says September 12th.” She pursed her lips in thought, her eyes on Steve. A silent conversation passed through them, leaving Howard confused. Her head just ever so slightly nodded. “October 1st.”

If Howard had a complaint, he said nothing. Or at least Steve didn’t hear him because at that point Pietro had cornered Wanda with the water gun. Howard turned back to Peggy with a fond smile. “The guy must really like you. He’s quiet. Thoughtful.” She rolled her eyes at him, causing the genius to smirk. “And no, you didn’t lose the shipment. It was stolen. I got guys working on it.”

“Peggy!” Steve’s voice betrayed the emergency of the situation, causing Peggy to abandon Howard and run straight to the playroom.

She gasped at the sight of Steve held in the air, a screaming Wanda in his arms, surrounded by red energy. The second she got close, Steve fell to the floor on his backside but held a terrified Wanda tightly to him.

“We have a situation,” he groaned to her.

As if their already situation wasn’t tricky enough.

--

So that’s it.

Steve was married to the wonderful Peggy Carter, aviator for Stark Industries. He was a stay at home father with a pair of twins. Twins separated shortly after their birth and now reunited. Twins with powers. Confusing powers that not even they understood.

Their relationship had changed in a matter of weeks. With the secrecy of everything that happened, they agreed it was best to get married ASAP. Bucky wasn’t too happy about them skipping a wedding and getting to embarrass Steve with a speech but even he agreed.

So that was it then, huh?

Not quite.

Wanda’s powers were difficult to understand and anytime Steve thought he could understand how she manipulated things or levitated them, or controlled minds, he was reminded he barely had control of the situation.

Pietro was almost just as worse with his speed.

They were kids, toddlers at that. Confusing toddlers were bad enough, but toddlers with superpowers? Now that was just a daily headache. They couldn’t control them. Once Pietro sneezed and jolted back all the way through the house and into his bed. He just thought it was fun and showed his mama as soon as she got home.

So what were they supposed to do? The only thing they could.

Move to a bigger home in the countryside. Steve took up being a comic artist, but more focused on stay at homework. Peggy continued her job at Stark Industries because part of her didn’t trust Stark. He knew about the powers but they worried through every test and blood sample that he might betray them. Now that Howard seemed to be that guy but Peggy couldn’t take her chances.

Thankfully Howard’s contacts had come through and they found a teacher, someone named Xavier who could help with the twin's powers. The only problem was, the guy was somewhere overseas and it would be after the new year before he could come to assess the problems. For now, Steve would send him daily updates and Xavier had started to couch Steve through working the twins through some testing or obstacle or stuff.

Their improvement showed and the father couldn’t have been more proud.

All Steve could say was, yes this situation was certainly an odd one. He never thought he’d adopt a child, much less a better half of a twin, a powered twin at that. Never did he thought he’d be with someone the likes of Peggy. A beautiful woman that took no shit and had no problem dishing it back out or putting Steve in his place when he needed it.

He never thought he’d have a successful career as a comic artist or even be a stay at home dad, but here he was.

Here he was in a loving, beautiful home that was chaotic at the best times, with two loving kids who just always wanted a family to belong to. And really, Steve and Peggy had done their both to give it to them.

Life was chaotic but it was good.

It was their life.

One Peggy and Steve had decided they’d carve it out together.

[imjeralee]

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 21 - A Tale of Two Sisters

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

NOTE: First update of 2021! I used my blood, sweat and tears for this chapter lol. I hope you enjoy it but there is a lot of fluff

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell​ here is the latest update

A Tale of Two Sisters

…

…

[Tape 4A. Audio Recording. Subject: Ezra and I discuss evil spirits:

00:02.11: Me: "Isn’t there anything we can do to help them?"

00:13.33: Ezra: "No. Evil spirits are condemned to roam without a physical form and will be compelled to wreak havoc on the living. They are beings that died with unfulfilled desires or anger and are said to 'linger' until such issues are resolved."

00:15.73: Me: "Has anyone attempted to research them?"

00:23.01: Ezra: "It was once believed that there was a way to control or communicate with them but any research or attempt on this matter is condemned by the Church."

00:24.70: Me: “But we're not aligned with the Church.”

00:26.42: Ezra: "Don't even think about it, kid."

The recording stops here.]

…

…

“How peculiar,” you utter, “I can understand what you’re saying.”

Gengar blinks blankly at you before he tells you he’s been speaking to you the entire time since you met at his master’s manor.

This must be what Ezra had noticed about you earlier. You’ve grown stronger. Your senses have heightened to another level. You’re becoming similar to Rosie except it’s taken you longer. You recall how she understood what Dusknoir was saying when you found her playing in the basement and she could communicate with it.

You’ve always understood what Gengar was trying to communicate from his actions but this…? You can understand ghost pokemon now (or maybe just Gengar). Perhaps you would grow even stronger in the future.

Mimikyu is lying next to you so you gently pick her up. "Psst....Mimi, are you asleep? Say something."

Stirring, the little glowing dots blink behind the fabric of her ragdoll disguise. "What is it, mi? Let mi sleep."

She swats you away with a claw and you put her back down; the pokemon rolls away from you, curling up. "Huh, there's no difference. What about you, Vulpix?"

The little red fox looks at you as you lift her up in your arms, her paws dangling in the air. She cocks her head to the side. "Vul."

"Hm. No difference here either," you murmur as you gently let her back down.

Leon returns to the tent after he’s done a quick sweep of the area; there’s no ghosts around regardless and there is certainly no-one else in the vicinity.

You’ve told him there’s nothing to be concerned about but he was still adamant in checking the rest of the camp just in case. You appreciate that he’s trying to keep you safe.

He zips the flap up and watches as you ask Rotom to take a photo of the bloodied hairclip on the ground and once he’s finished, you carefully slip the floral hairclip into a sealable plastic bag; it’s piano black, sleek and shiny, with the occasional flecks of dried blood and a strand of long hair.

“So… a spirit left that for you?” he asks, as you inspect the bag keenly, holding it up under the dim light of the lamp.

You nod. “It’s evidence. Looks like I have a new case.”

You tell him you saw a ghost in broad daylight this afternoon and it saw you. Now it looks like the ghost has followed you all the way out here. Also, Vulpix sensed her first. You pet her fondly as she dozes beside who Mimikyu is also fast asleep, snoozing away.

“Remember the ghost of South Miloch? Well, this is more or less the same way she contacted me, so I know this one needs help,” you add, “she knows I got the message. She won’t bother us for the rest of the night.”

He looks uneasy. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I'll post it up on my blog," you reply, and you quickly access your website and upload the photo onto a new post, typing out a message. "'If this belongs to you, please contact me'. There we go, all done. Now we wait.”

You smile at him and he flicks a glance to Rotom. It’s 3am.

“Let’s go back to sleep.”

You’re a little excited to sleep though, knowing that Gengar had spoken to you and you want to talk as much as possible but the ghost pokemon pokes his head from your shadow and tells you he’s going to rest too so you suppose you should just take it easy and sleep considering how exhausted you are.

With a yawn, you nod and flop over the sleeping bag with Leon’s arms wrapped around you. Now that you think about it, you’re amazed you were able to sleep so soundly with him beside you.

You had enjoyed being spooned so you turn to lie on your side with your back pressed against his chest and as expected, he gently worms his arm around your waist and you sigh with content. You make yourself comfortable and cosy in your spot before grabbing his arm and holding it tightly to your chest. His heartbeat speeds up and he swallows down loudly.

"Leon?"

"Y-yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"...I'm okay."

You let out a stifled laugh. “Alright then. Goodnight.”

“G-goodnight.”

Reaching over, you switch off the lamp and the tent is encased in darkness once again.

…

You wake up before Leon and during the night, you’ve deviated a great deal; you find yourself lying flat on your back and he’s curled up beside you with his face buried against your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist. What surprises you the most is how tightly he holds you and how much he’s pressed himself against your body with your legs tangled together.

He’s still fast asleep and you don’t want to wake him up so you remain still, staring at the ceiling of the tent and thinking about last night before you swerve your gaze down to the sleeping champion once more.

Leon grumbles incoherently before he inches even closer to you than ever before, burying his nose further into your nape and sighing under his breath. His hair tickles your chin, cheeks and nose and you try your best not to laugh.

Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to be at ease and to relax with a smile on your face until Rotom suddenly twitches in his spot and he rises into the air, his eyes glowing brightly before he emits a loud ring and this time, both you and Leon groan heavily in response.

“Bzzrt, eep! Mezzzage! You have received a private mezzage from PinkZzylveon! Bzz, I hope thizzz izzz urgent….” Rotom buzzes helplessly as he’s forced awake.

“Huh…?” you utter whilst Leon clings onto you, half-awake.

“Nmm…what time is it?” he mumbles blearily.

“Six am….”

“You can watch the sunrizzze if you’re quick enough…” Rotom adds, disgruntled.

“Oh….good idea…” Leon mutters and he settles himself into your embrace once more and you watch as he closes his eyes for a brief moment…then re-open again in a split second. He swerves his gaze up to you and you look at him, then Leon untangles his arms from you hastily, wide awake with shock, and promptly sits up. “Um, g-good morning…”

“Morning Leon.”

“Arceus, I-I’m so sorry.”

You watch him splutter and stammer for a few seconds before you say, “Sorry for what?”

His face turns various shades of red but when you smile at him reassuringly, he gradually calms down and smiles bashfully at you in response.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs quietly.

You nod. "Did you?"

"I did. It was the best sleep I'd ever had."

You are oddly flattered.

“C’mon, let’s get ready,” you reply, moving to stand, stretching slightly. “Do you want to watch the sunrise together?”

“Yes,” he agrees, as you rifle through your pile of folded clothes and hand him his hoodie to him before you grab your sweater and throw it on.

Afterwards, Rotom settles into your hands and you swipe the screen to see what this message is. It was sent to you via your blog, only visible to you. It says: This is regarding the hairclip. Please come to 23 Dorset Road, Motostoke. It belongs to my sister. We need your help. This is my number.

“Interesting,” you utter under your breath as your eyes roam over the phone number provided. The area code belongs to Kanto.

“Zzzhall we reply?”

“Not yet.”

You’re wanting to watch the sunrise with Leon, so you both get ready in the tent though he says he should leave to give you some privacy but it’s freezing outside so you tell him he can just turn round. When you’re fully dressed, you don your coat whilst Leon pulls on his thick hoodie. He takes his scarf and loops it around your neck before you both leave the sanctity of the tent and step out into the cold. It’s always frigid in the Wild Area on mornings like this which you’re beginning to get used to.

“I wonder if there’s a good spot nearby,” Leon muses under his breath before he brings out his own Rotom phone and tampers with it. He scrutinises the screen thoroughly before he beams widely. “Ah, found one.”

“Whereabouts?” you ask, joining his side.

“It’s telling us to go that way,” Leon says, pointing to the far right of the lake.

However, when you check the phone, something doesn’t look quite right with the direction he’s pointing to and the marker on the map doesn't align properly – on the contrary, it is indicating to the left.

You gently take his arm and swivel him round so he’s pointing to the other way. The marker follows his movement and the marker begins to blink, indicating he is now on the right track, in the correct direction. Leon blushes whilst you smile.

Despite having a cold breakfast consisting of berry juice, granola and yoghurt, it tastes ten times delicious than usual because you’re eating together and when you’re finished, you and Leon head for the direction of the marker.

Vulpix trots alongside you and Charizard lingers behind.

“Was she born like that?” you utter under your breath as you throw a sideways glance to the fox pokemon. She seems to be doing well despite missing an eye though she leans heavily to one side as she pads along.

“Yeah, so her owner deemed her unsuitable for battling,” Leon explains, “she was abandoned at the pokemon nursery.”

You shake your head at this.

Vulpix seems happy under your care and she looks up at you and you look at her. When you lock gazes, she wags her little tail.

“She’s still a baby. The tail is meant to split as they grow older, right?”

“Yep,” Leon replies jovially.

“I’ll make sure she grows healthy and strong.”

Vulpix yaps affectionately, you smile at her and Leon squeezes your hand tightly.

He wanted to hold your hand along the way; you had seen him glancing at you wistfully though he had remained quiet but alas, actions speak louder than words and he had gently reached for your hand, pulling you close to him and weaving your fingers together.

He blushes the entire time and his hand becomes sweaty as he sneaks little peeks at you every now and then from the corner of his eyes for your reaction.

And when you’d glance up at him curiously, he doesn’t look away as you expected; instead, he holds your gaze, smiles and brush his thumb against the base of your palm tenderly which sends numerous shivers down your spine. This is a side to Leon which you didn’t think you’d ever see at all.

It also occurs to you that you will need to tell Sonia, Jace, the professor and Graves about this. No doubt, Sonia might be squealing for days. Jace seems a little on the fence with Leon judging from your past conversations, and you’re not sure how Graves will react either but he seems relaxed about Leon.

That’s a thought for another time as Rotom leads you away from the campsite - at least a good twenty minutes or so - and you find yourselves situated at a grassy hill that’s much larger than the other spot you took Leon last time and on this occasion, the view is far more rewarding and grandiose.

A clean, grassy spot invites you to plop yourselves down along with Charizard but the flame pokemon decides not to be a third wheel; before he leaves, he nudges the two of you to sit closely together as much as possible, then he retreats to the direction of the trees where he joins Vulpix so it’s just you and Leon. Charizard gives you the equivalent of a thumbs up using his claws.

“I once told myself I’d see the sunrise with someone special…I always hoped it would be you," Leon says.

You blush heavily and he grins at your response.

When you realise he’s not looking away, it occurs to you he’s admiring you and your cheeks grow even warmer; he reaches over and wraps an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close and you blink wide-eyed for a brief moment before smiling widely.

You huddle together as the sun begins to peek out between the trees and hills. The dark horizon eventually begins to clear up, bathing the wilderness with a tawny, warm glow and you recall the dream.

“Are you free this evening?” he murmurs.

“Yeah.”

“Would you like to have dinner?”

It takes a lot to keep yourself calm and collected and you croak out, “I’d love to but where would we go? People are going to recognise you.”

“You could come over to my house. I’ll let my mum know you’re coming. She wants to see you again.”

You’re about to reply, but the sun becomes so bright you have to shield your eyes; you soak in the warmth of the sun, sighing with content and squaring your shoulders, causing him to chuckle. Unfortunately, the sunrise is over in a short period of time which prompts you both to leave.

It’s time to part ways though you have agreed to have dinner with him later at his house: Leon will return to Wyndon for his photoshoot with Miss Galar and you will check out the address in Motostoke and return the hairclip.

Leon helps you to stand and as you turn, you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you but you believed you had seen the dark silhouette of a man standing behind the pokemon as they were waiting for you.

In the blink of an eye however, the shadow disappears and you’re left staring at Charizard and Vulpix.

“What’s wrong?”

“…Nothing.”

Returning to the campsite, Charizard helps you take down the tent and roll it up whilst Mimikyu and Vulpix help Leon out with the packing.

Once everything’s stowed away, the campsite is vacated and you begin the hike to return to the challenger’s path, chatting and holding hands until a faint rumbling sound grabs your attention and you turn round to see a familiar and large wooden wagon approaching, pulled by a Tauros.

You wonder if Leon would let go of your hand (he doesn't) and you ponder if whoever is driving the wagon is staring (they are).

As the wagon passes you, it is driven by none other than the farmer from Turrfield, the one who passed you and Leon when you had first met. The one who wouldn't let you on and called you cursed and bad luck.

He's staring with widened eyes at you and obviously you're holding hands with the Champion. In fact, he gawks so relentlessly that he doesn't realise where he's going and he misses the gaping dirt hole up ahead. The wagon jostles, the wheel lodged fast in the ditch and he yelps as everything comes to a stop and Tauros rears with a bellow.

"Whoa there, Toro!! Easy, old boy...easy..."

The wagon's stuck; after calming the bull, the farmer jumps off to inspect the wheel and sighs, scratching his head underneath his straw hat.

You exchange quick glances with Leon before heading over. The farmer notices and begins spluttering at once.

"G-good mornin', Mr Champion! Fancy seein' you here again!"

"Apologies, have we met before?" Leon asks with a smile.

Leon doesn’t remember his face. The farmer looks as surprised as you are. You could tell him, say it's the old fart who wouldn't give you a ride last time, but you remain silent and the farmer throws a sheepish glance to the ground.

"Do you need help with that?" Leon asks.

He clears his throat and stutters out, "Nah, s’alright. You two young'uns better run along now. I got this covered..." he trots to the back of his wagon and begins to push, leaning his scrawny self against the wood. "God-freakin'-damnit, I knew I should've bought that lousy HM!"

True, the Strength HM would've been helpful in these kinds of situation. He struggles, grunting and growling, and Leon rolls his sleeves up, releases Charizard, and they both head to the back of the wagon to assist the old man.

"We'll give you a hand."

"Oh, thank you, you're so kind, Mr Champion."

"It's no problem at all, sir."

"Hey...you there, girl. Do you mind watchin' over old Toro for me?" the farmer asks, "but be gentle with 'im. He's still a brute."

You nod and stroll over to Tauros who huffs and stomps one hoof on the dusty ground, shaking himself. He's somewhat agitated but you do your best to calm him. Reaching over, you gently stroke his grizzled mane and he watches as you pat his horns and rub the bottom of his jaw. The pokemon grows still, and you smile.

"Good boy," you murmur.

"Be careful," Leon says, peeking out from one side of the wagon.

On the count of three, the men and Charizard successfully push the wagon out and you hop away as the wheel is finally freed and the wagon is back on the path, safe. The farmer looks pleased as Leon returns Charizard and heads over to your side with a grin. You check if he's fine before dabbing away at some sweat on his forehead with a tissue.

"Well, I can't thank you two enough," the farmer says as he hops into the seat. "And uh....here, this is somethin' for your troubles." He reaches to the side and pulls out two fresh bottles of moo moo milks and pots of honey which he hands over. “It’s not much but it’s the best I can do, sorry."

"No problem, sir. Have a good day."

"You too. Take care. Goodbye now."

With the minor distraction out of the way, you continue your journey and finally, you reach a fork in the path – one that will lead to Hammerlocke and the other to Motostoke.

You and Leon will part ways here.

The path looks unwelcoming all of a sudden.

You throw him a glance from the corner of your eye, wondering what he might be thinking of when he instinctively steps towards you and anxiously slides his arms around your waist, his warm hands brushing against the side of your body before he gently pulls you closer to him.

His gesture brings a smile to your face as you plant your arms on his shoulders, weaving and twirling your fingers through his thick, long hair.

“Be careful,” he murmurs, “are you sure you don’t need me to go with you?”

“I’ll be fine,” you reply with the same hushed tone he’s employed.

The moment your eyes meet, your breath lodges in your throat; neither of you make a move to pull away and you both linger a little longer than necessary before Leon begins to lean forwards.

Although you can tell he’s getting nervous again, you stand still for him as the gap between you grows smaller and smaller and your noses brush together.

Relishing your presence and the close proximity, he affectionately nuzzles you for a few seconds or so before he angles his face to the side, his lips pucker up slightly and you bite down on your lip, trying not to laugh.

Oblivious, Leon lightly skims his mouth over yours before he presses his lips against yours firmly.

He starts off gentle, being very careful not to hurt you or make you uncomfortable in any way. You let him lead this time and he kisses you coyly.

His lips are so soft against yours, slowly pulling you in and ensuring every inch of your lips are covered by his mouth.

Heat blooms in your chest and your heart thuds; your mouths seem to mould together perfectly and your thoughts are silenced as his scents enraptures you from all over along with the searing warmth of his hands on your body, his fingers faintly digging into your flesh.

He clutches you tightly to him, your lips pressing together until you sweep your hand over his cheek and your fingertips brush over the rugged stubble along his jaw.

Leon grins against your mouth then presses a light, feathery peck on your lips before applying just the tiniest amount of pressure to deepen the kiss.

You giggle lightly in response until your ears pick up the sounds of a twig snapping and you both stop at once, pulling away and glancing over to the source.

A few feet away, a couple of bushes rustle loudly until a chubby Gloom pops out and waddles from the undergrowth, followed by two diminutive Oddish; you and Leon watch as they cross the path in front of you and hop over to the other side, disappearing into the tall grass.

You sigh with relief whilst Leon chuckles and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss over your knuckles then over your cheek before he retreats, his face reddening as he watches you for your reaction.

“H-how was that?” he asks nervously, and you know he’s talking about the kiss.

“Hmm, I think we should practice more.”

“I’d like that,” he admits quietly.

You smile fondly at him in return as he swerves his glance to your entwined hands.

”Am I...your first kiss?” Leon is your first proper kiss, so you nod.

He gleams at once, ecstatic. He’s positively glowing now.

”You’re my first too,” he murmurs.

“You’re so sweet, Leon,” you reply, and his face turns a darker shade of red.

“...There’s something I need to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Will you wait for me?” he murmurs, “I get challenged by gym challengers every day and I have been defending my title for many years…but there will be a day when I'm no longer Galar’s Champion.”

“Don’t say that,” you reply with a pout.

“It’s true, but until that day happens I’ll continue doing my best. It’s my dream to make the trainers of Galar the strongest in the world. I just wanted to know…when the day comes and Galar no longer needs me... will you be there for me?”

“Of course!” you reassure him with a wide grin, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always be there for you.”

His cheeks go pink and he nods.

“And, um…The party. It’s after my match with Volkner. The dress code is formalwear and there will be dancing. There’ll be a simple waltz.”

You go bug-eyed by the mere mention. “Dancing?? I don’t really dance…”

“Do you know how to dance?”

“No.”

He chuckles. “I can teach you the basics. I'm not an expert but I had to learn how to dance for events like these, though they are very rare.”

“Is it weird that I know how to deal with evil spirits but I don’t know how to dance?” you utter without thinking twice, and Leon laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, I’ll need to do a bit of shopping then. I'll need something to wear. I should go now.”

You toss your glance to the path and jab your thumb to the other direction with much reluctance.

“Sure, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

“…Goodbye.”

You hop onto the path with your bag swinging behind you, turning round to wave as he stands limply on his spot. “Bye, Leon.”

He reluctantly sets off to his direction, waving. “Bye.”

The departure is painful.

It is strange, just waving to him and walking off. Maybe you should've kissed and cuddled more. A hell lot more. You remind yourself that you are seeing him later.

So here you are, unwillingly meandering down the path to Motostoke on your own and away from Leon who’s on the path to Wyndon; you keep throwing glances over your shoulder before he’s out of sight and he does the same; the moment your eyes meet and surprisingly enough, you’re not inclined to look away as you would usually do.

And unfortunately you no longer get to see him when you head down the bend of the path and a huge dollop of trees blocks your view and he is finally out of sight. Your heart is still hammering and your cheeks still feel very warm, your lips tingling. You can’t wait to see him again later in the evening.

Glancing up to the clear blue sky above your head, a flock of bird pokemon soars ahead in V formation and you sigh with content as you gaze at the lush forestry, at the flowing river to your left where little Woopers and Barboach weave their way upstream.

Smiling to yourself, you grasp the strap of your bag firmly to your chest as you close your eyes and inhale a deep breath of fresh, crisp air.

You head to an empty forest clearing in order to receive a better signal before you bring up the message you received about the hairclip and ask Rotom to call the number and wait for a response.

“Hello?”

The voice belongs to a girl.

“Good morning, this is the pokemon researcher of Wedgehurst. I received your message.”

“Oh! Thanks for the callback.”

“No problem. Have I called you at a good time?”

“Yes, yes, it’s all good. Do you have the hairclip?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of returning it to you today if possible.”

“Yes please, I’m free right now. Could you come over? You’ve got my address, right?”

“I do. I’ll be there in half hour tops.”

“Thank you.”

After you hang up, you call for a Corviknight taxi to take you to twenty three Dorset Road, Motostoke. The shops aren’t open yet, so you could do some investigation first.

When it arrives, you climb in and Corviknight spreads his wings with a loud caw and takes off to the skies and in a matter of minutes, you have arrived outside a quaint two-storey, detached house with umber red walls and a white door; it opens and the same pink-haired girl you had seen yesterday emerges with a Sylveon by her side.

When the carriage lands on the front lawn with a gentle thud, you climb out and as you’re about to pay the fare, the girl quickly steps over and pulls out a wad of notes from her pocket, handing them to the cabbie.

“It’s on me,” she says before she turns to you and nudges her head towards the house. “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, as Corviknight and the cabbie take their leave.

She holds the door open for you and you step inside the house, arriving at a small entryway where she urges you to remove your shoes. She removes her slippers, leaving herself barefoot as she weaves into the lounge.

The house is an atypical home and you see nothing out of the ordinary, though you can sense a darkness has settled within. It’s slathered all over the ceiling and crawls down the walls. A pungent, sour smell invades your nose….possibly originating from old shoes or leftover food.

And somewhere upstairs, you hear muffled sobbing and wailing.

“That’s my mum,” she says, “don’t mind her.”

At the top of the stairs, the ghost you saw yesterday lingers by the banister, staring at you silently.

It’s bizarre seeing a spirit in broad daylight and in this shape and form yet your eyes do not play tricks on you. Stepping forwards for a closer look, you mentally note that her body is transparent yet her eyes are as dark as night. You scrutinize her form for a while before she turns a smooth one eighty angle and floats away, disappearing into the wall.

“That’s Flora. My sister,” the girl says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“You can see her?”

“Yeah. I’ve always been able to see ghosts. And uh, thanks for coming by the way.”

She appears oblivious to your stunned expression and invites you to enter the living room where the negative energy is even stronger and the entire room is encased in darkness; your throat clams up, windpipe constricting and you struggle for breath. She doesn’t seem to notice how suffocated you are as you blindly make your way inside and she gestures for you to sit on one of the couches.

The Sylveon heads to a basket near the TV and curls up inside as the girl strolls past you and into the kitchen, asking if you want a drink. Tea or coffee. You opt for tea and a while later, she returns with two pink Jigglypuff mugs of steaming hot drinks and sits down on the couch adjacent to yours.

She looks at you from head to toe and you do the same.

The Delcatty clock ticks loudly on the wall.

You lift the cup to your lips and take a sip.

It's too hot.

The distorted weeping upstairs grows steadily in volume.

“I can’t believe you’re here in the flesh,” she says quietly, “I’ve read all about you, I’m a longtime lurker of your blog by the way and I love what you do. Ghosts, evil spirits, cursed objects…I’ve read every article you’ve posted.”

“Thank you very much for the patronage.”

“Oh, it’s no bother at all. I love your work. So…where should I begin?”

“You could start off by telling me a bit about yourself and what you need my help for.”

She nods and places her cup down on the glass table. It emits a loud clang. The sobbing begins to descend into persistent croaks and gasps before it acts up again.

“Sure. My name is Francesca Warren. Everyone calls me Frankie. I’m fifteen years old and I’ve been able to see ghosts for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t really a problem for me…I learned to ignore them but unfortunately, it means I can see Flora. I want to help her move on but I don’t know how or why she can’t, and that’s why I need your help. I know you wrote about this on your blog but I’d love it if you could tell me everything in person.”

You nod in response. “Of course. There are a variety of reasons why spirits can’t move on. It’s usually due to their attachments to people, places, and also there may even be things that could hold her back from making the transition.”

“Like what?”

The crying upstairs continues so you briefly flick your glance up to the ceiling.

“Sometimes it’s because there is a loved one who can’t let go of the deceased, so this emotional bond binds the spirit and thus it cannot move on.”

“Oh,” says Frankie.

“Then there are negative emotions such as hatred or injustice towards something or someone, usually their murderer. If they are severe, the spirit will refuse to move on and this is more difficult to deal with…but there are also instances when people are confused or disoriented at the moment of their death, so they may not realise they’re dead which can also impact their moving on.”

“Got it.”

“Either way, I’m glad you reached out, your sister needs to move on as soon as possible. I’ll see what I can do.”

You wonder if she may need time to mourn when you see the corner of her eyes begin to fill up with tears yet she suddenly clenches her knuckles and says, “Thank you so much. I know how much you charge and I’m prepared to pay.”

“We can talk about renumeration afterwards.”

“Thank you.”

And the crying upstairs eventually subsides.

You shift your gaze to the ceiling and Frankie does the same briefly, before she averts her gaze to you and you glance at her and for a second or so, your gazes linger for a rather uncomfortable moment or so before she smiles thinly and you are forced to respond with a smile of your own.

“Then let’s get started,” Frankie says, rising from her seat. “Uh…where exactly should we start?”

“Tell me a bit more about Flora. What are the circumstances?”

“Oh, right. Of course. Well…” she lowers her voice drastically and urges you to lean towards her so she can whisper, “my sister doesn’t remember how she died…nor does she know why she died or who killed her, but we do.”

She grabs a manila folder from a shelf of the coffee table and hands it to you; you lift the flap and pull out a newspaper clipping. The headlines says: “BLACKBELT KILLS GIRLFRIEND” and there is a mugshot of an attractive but stern-looking young man with dark eyes on the cover.

“It was him. He did it. And since then, Flora appeared to me. Do you know how hard it is to see your sister, dead as a doornail?" she says, her voice beginning to rise a few octaves.

"...I can't possibly imagine your pain."

Frankie regains her composure and takes a deep breath. "Anyway, I attend boarding school in Kanto, Fuchsia City, so I’ve been away from home for a while. I just flew back. And when I got the news, the weather was bad and I had a dreadful feeling, like something wasn’t quite right. Then I got a call from my mum, saying Flora had been killed and her body was found. I flew back home on the first flight.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been horrible.”

“It was, but seeing her like this is worse. I usually see her in the house but lately she disappears at night and cabbies are finding her at the Watchtower Ruins in the Wild Area. She’ll hitch a ride, come back to the house but she'll disappear in the cab mid-ride. It’s happened four times now. You can read how Flora was killed in that newspaper I gave you but there’s also something else you should know.”

Frankie heads to the mantelpiece in the lounge, beckoning you over.

There are only a few photos on display and the rest of the mantelpiece appears to be covered in a thin layer of dust, albeit there are some ‘clean’ spots which shows that there used to be adornments here but had been removed.

The photos contain a beautiful young woman smiling widely for the camera – Flora, of course – dressed in all sorts of evening gowns and donned in tiaras and ribbons. The awards, ribbons and trophies are also inscribed with her name and the ribbon says ‘Miss Motostoke’.

“Flora was Miss Motostoke?” you murmur, and Frankie nods furiously, “the beauty pageant is over though. Flora was supposed to compete?”

“Yeah. She made it to the finals. But obviously after news of her death, another girl from Motostoke took her place instead.”

You check the remainder of the photos and see another woman is heavily featured in some photos. “Your mum, right?"

Frankie nods.

“She’s an ex-beauty pageant queen?”

“Yep.”

Glancing at the mantelpiece, you inspect the clean spots. “What was here before?” you ask out of curiosity.

“I think it was my mother’s trophies. I'm sure her tiara was here. She must’ve put it away. She won Miss Galar a long time ago.”

It’s also worth noting that you don’t see any photos of Frankie or her father anywhere. “Is your dad…?”

“He left when I was born,” Frankie replies, a little offhandedly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I barely knew him.”

“Can I talk to your sister?”

Frankie deadpans. “Um….you can try,” she says dryly, “she doesn’t actually talk. I’ll show you what I mean. Follow me.”

Frankie leads you out of the living room and to the stairs where you see a tall and dark shadow standing at the top of the landing: you freeze on the spot but it’s not Flora – it’s a bedraggled looking woman with long hair framing the sides of her face….and she is bathed in squirming dark tendrils that has completely swamped her from head to toe.

Whilst you merely stare, Frankie is clearly alarmed and exclaims, “Mum! You gave me a fright.”

“Sorry, Frank,” she blows her nose into a tissue; her eyes are swollen, red and watery. “Who’s this?”

Frankie flings her glance to you and introduces you briefly, mentioning your name but she doesn’t say you are a researcher and that she invited you. Instead, she tells her mother that you are a friend of Flora’s.

“Hello ma’am,” you say, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

The woman looks a little confused before her eyes ultimately narrow into slits. “Flora never mentioned your name to me before,” she hisses with much suspicion.

“It’s okay, mum. We’re friends.”

Without another word, the woman tosses you another wary look before she retreats into her room and you hear the door slam shut.

Frankie glances at you and bites on her lip nervously. “Sorry. My mum usually isn’t like this. She’s completely changed since Flora died.”

You nod as you begin your ascent up the stairs which you find rather steep, and the higher you go up, the pressure of the house increases and you let out a loud gasp of breath.

“What’s wrong?” Frankie asks, with an eyebrow raised.

“Can’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

You shake your head limply and as you pass the mother’s room where more dark tendrils squiggle and writhe between the gaps of the door, you murmur a quick chant to bless it but at the same time, you can see Frankie's mother inside.

She sits on the edge of the bed, crying and clutching a silver tiara in hands. It's the Miss Galar tiara - a beautiful, glimmering silver crown that glints brightly under the light adorned with a pink gemstone in the middle.

You quietly step away; she doesn't notice.

The shadows dissolve in a quick moment and you follow Frankie as she escorts you to a room. The door is closed and a plaque decorated with flowers says ‘Flora’ in flowery print.

Frankie takes a deep breath and slowly eases the door open as silently as possible.

The first thing you notice is that the room is musty. Her room must have been closed off for some time and there is a thin layer of dust on the ground. Frankie instructs you to keep quiet and to be as careful as possible as she tiptoes around the bed where the sheets haven’t been touched and there’s a pillow with a dent in the middle where someone used to lay their head down on it.

You follow her, creeping around the desk where a sketchbook lays open on the surface containing a bunch of fashion designs along with an unused pen that stands beside a ballerina figurine. A dressmaking mannequin is propped to the right near the bookshelf where a beautiful, tailored ruby red dress has been slipped over.

Frankie heads over to the dress at once, dusting at the pauldrons with her fingers before she glances at you; you’re fixated on something else entirely. Flora stands in front of the wide window with her back to you, her neck uncomfortably bent to one side.

“Flora?” you say quietly.

She does not reply so you swerve your gaze to Frankie and she whispers, “See what I mean?”

Flora was responsive enough to leave behind her hairclip for you though.

A few seconds later and she slowly turns round, her eerie and empty eyes meeting yours. Now you believe otherwise, so you tell her your name and who you are, what you do.

“I’m here to help,” you add, “Frankie and I will do our best to help you move on.”

The spirit appears calm and docile but it is apparent she is responsible for the dark presence that has encompassed the entire house and most noticeably, their mother. The energy is emitting from her in little wisps.

“In order to do that, you need to tell us what you want.”

“The pageant.”

Frankie’s jaw drops.

Flora’s voice is faint. An echo.

“She talked,” Frankie breathes out.

”What about the pageant, Flora?”

“I need to compete. I know it’s over but I wish there was a way I could have participated.”

You contemplate for a while before you swerve your eyes to the dress on the mannequin. Frankie gawks at her sister with disbelief.

The room drops into silence before you say, “There is a way. I can... let you possess me.”

Frankie continues gawping. “What?”

“It’s not unheard of. I can let you possess me and we’ll hold our own private pageant. I think we're both roughly the same height and size, so...the clothes shouldn't be an issue.”

“S-seriously???”

You nod.

“Are you okay with that?” Frankie splutters out, “will you be okay??”

“Yes. We need to help her move on. If this is the only way to help her, so be it. If we do nothing, she’ll become an evil spirit; she’s already at an early stage-“

“Who on earth gave you permission to go in here?!” screams a shrill voice, and Flora immediately vanishes whilst you and Frankie wince uncontrollably from the extortionate noise.

Frankie’s mum stands at the doorway, her face flush with anger.

“Get out!! Get out at once!”

“S-sorry mum,” Frankie says and you’re both quickly booted out of the room.

You watch the woman inspect the dress before she hysterically checks the pillows and the sheets, before she sighs with relief when everything is intact.

“Um, let’s go,” Frankie mutters under her breath, tugging on your sleeve.

Once you’re downstairs, you tell Frankie you should take your leave, which she agrees. She watches as you pick up your shoes and slip them on.

“By the way, did you mean what you said…that Flora will become an evil spirit? Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious. She’s haunting you and your house."

"Don't say it like that, I'm glad I still get to see her!"

"It's the truth. There are spirits who have unfinished business and the longer a spirit remains on this plane, the more it will begin to lose consciousness of itself. It will begin to warp and lose shape and form. It will lose everything.”

“But Flora’s not…she’s not evil.”

“There are plenty of reasons why evil spirits are created. It doesn’t necessarily have to be because it is evil. They no longer belong to this world, Frankie.”

She nods meekly.

“But you’re right. Your sister was gravely injured, particularly on her head…so I think that’s why she doesn’t recall how she died because if she did, well...she would’ve turned into an evil spirit immediately. Most evil spirits want to exact revenge against their murderers or they inflict their pain and suffering onto others. By then, they’re unsalvageable.”

“So…it’s a good thing Flora doesn’t remember?”

“Well, yes and no...but let’s not focus on that. There are several things we need to work on right now. Firstly, since we’re going to help your sister move on and her wish is to compete in the pageant, we need to reenact it. That means I need the clothes she was going to wear for it, any props and accessories, but I also want you to ask your mum for permission. Second, we should get a tiara or something for the pageant if possible-“

“Oh! Leave that to me, I could just borrow my mum’s. She won’t even notice!”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Will this work though?”

“Yes, it should.”

“Okay, let me get my sister’s stuff ready. I’ll let you know how I get on. When will we hold it?”

”I’ll be in touch.”

Without further ado, you leave the Warren residence and turn to look at the house one last time.

Flora stands at the window of her bedroom, staring limply outside.

…

[rezdogsyonder]

Changing

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tall!Reader

Summary: Peter has found his soulmate but does she feel the same? Basically a soulmate au but different

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging,

A/N: Peter is aged up. Also I changed his powers just a tiny bit just one thing and the rest is the same.

This peice is unfinished and it will remain unfinished because I’m leaving tumblr and will not be returning. If you wish to continue this you may.

*********

Fuck. Not right now. Not today.

That’s all you can think as you’re nearly late for your first day as an photographer. It isn’t the first place you wanted to work for but you need the money. Well probably not a “real” photographer. You’re not hired for the job on a regular basis, but for their front page photos of Spider-Man. It’s cool, Spider-Man won’t let anybody else take his photos.

Well, it’s not really your first day but it’s the first day that Jameson is actually considering you as his official Spider-Man photographer. Before you usually would email him asking if he needed more photos and now he is finally now telling you that you’re going to be the official photographer for the weekly Spider-Man pieces.

You have started a blog for the hero and hopefully it will gain traction and maybe you’ll get to make an income from it. But for now you have to sell your photos to the Daily Bugle.

The rent is due Friday and you get a check from the gas station you work at that day, it won’t be enough to cover it though. But with a check after each batch of photos you provide will put you way over the green this pay day.

You’re rushing about your medium sized 1 room apartment. This place was a gem, the only reason this place was as cheap as a studio is because a billboard was directly across from the extremely large windows. Lighting up your entire apartment. It didn’t bother you much, it saved on electricity from never having to turn on the lights and all you needed was blackout curtains in your room.

You are not changing shirts but you squeeze into a pair of black pants. The grey boyfriend cardigan getting tucked in the back, but it doesn’t deter you from running to the bathroom and vigorously brushing your teeth. You’ll have to forgo the entire makeup routine but you have time for foundation and mascara.

Rushing back into your bedroom you pull a pair of socks from the top drawer of your dresser and look at your alarm clock. 9:42. 18minutes till you’re late. Well you know in Jameson’s eyes you are already late but he screams at you no matter what.

Your second shoe is tied, you got your purse and it has your wallet, phone, and keys already. You run out of your room and in the hallway of the complex. Fuck, locking these doors seems to be the longest part of leaving. 3 locks, self installed with the extra long screws. Never needed this much security before but some blind asshole next door seems to always be getting into fights. Like what the fuck, how hard is it to not fight someone, and then he leads them here.

Once the doors are locked and you’re out of the building you look at your phone. 9:44. 16 minutes to go around 2 miles. Well broadway cuts across, so probably less, but anyways you gotta run it. Now you’re not the most fit person, but you are able to push yourself more than what others would think you’d be able to.

Dodging people and avoiding running into the road, you make it to the first turn. Basically a straight shot now, but it seems as though people are wanting to be in your way today. You would love a bike right about now. Though you’d have a really high chance of getting hit by a car. But it’s right about the same risk since you are not stopping at the do not walk signs.

One car almost did hit you, but it braked in time but not without you slapping the hood as you went by. Not on purpose but from loss of balance. Well you probably would have slapped it anyways. Your face burns from the run, and the heat, it is the end of summer but it is still pretty hot out.

Oh god, this is awful, you’re just a more than halfway and you nearly ran into an old man and his wife outside of m&m world.

“Sorry!” You shout back but it’s not very loud and sounds winded. You won’t stop though.

Just a couple more turns. Just two more turns. Just one more. You keep telling yourself that you’re almost there, legs straining the muscles from the over exertion.

You get into the building and run to the elevator. You know you probably look unprofessional right about now but you don’t care. You just need to catch your breath.

You press the right floor and dig through your purse. The small mirror being a lifesaver as of recently, since being late is seeming to become a common ovccurance. You pat your forehead with the sleeve of your cardigan. You don’t look too bad, but not the best. You check the time, 9:58. Not bad, you’ll be just 1 minute early. The elevator ride giving you just enough time to breath properly.

The elevator doors open to the busy floor, and you go over to Jameson’s assistant, not even reaching her desk before she points her pen behind her to his office.

“L/N!” He immediately shouts, “Where are those photos?” He is still looking out the window behind his desk.

“Right here sir,” you pull the envelope out of your purse holding it out for him to take it. Which he does, ripping the lip of the envelope and begins examining your photos.”

“850. Tell Betty on your way out.” He plops you’re photos on his desk.

“850? That’s not my rate, there are 12 photos there.”

“These just aren’t worth your usual rate. 850.” He argues back, you’ve seen this before, had you been any smaller or even sitting he would have put his hands on his desk and leaned towards you to seem intimidating, but right now he looks like a child with his hands balled at his side.

“65 per photo or I go to The Post.” You won’t back down. That’s nearly a thousand, and you don’t want to let it go, even if it is less than 200 more than what he offered but you need it.

He stares at you, he’s turning red now in the ears. You collect your photos calling his bluff.

“Fine,” he grumbles, he presses a button on the small speaker on his desk, “Betty, write out a check for L/N for 975.” He released the button and you put the photos down. “Get out of here, she’ll call when we have another piece.”

“You’re a peach,” you smiled as you back out of his office. “Hey Betty, how’re you doing this week?”

“Just fine, but his wife wants me to control his anger as soon as his meds are sorted. Not looking forward to that.” She finishes filling out the check on her computor, and with one last click that is so familiar to you now, you know she printed it.

“Jesus, I do not want to be here for that.” You step back four steps to the printer and rip off the receipt at the bottom that she needs to keep and hand it to her. “Good luck, because you will need it. Thanks, see you next week!” You wave bye as the doors close.

Letting out a sigh of relief, and tucking your check into your wallet. You’re glad you won’t have to worry anymore. With this check you’ll have four or five hundred more than you’ll need for rent, meaning you won’t have to scrape by for grocerys.

You better hurry though, you have an hour till your next shift at the gas station and you still need a shower.

**********

The hours are going by slowly, with few customers to keep you distracted. Just 4 more hours and you get to call it a night. It has already been 6 hours since you clocked in and there had only been a handful of customers, making the day uncharacteristically slow.

Your phone begins vibrating on the small fridge below the counter, the shift managers name on the display screen. Seeing as there’s no customers you think it is fine to answer.

“Hello? Debby?” You greet subconciously.

“Y/N I have some bad news.” She pauses, “the person who is supposed to relieve you is refusing to come in. She quit.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’ve been here since 11:30, I don’t think it’s allowed for me to work past 1. Wasn’t her shift supposed to last till 8?”

“Yes I know but you are legally allowed to work till 4:30, and that is when I’ll take over because I cannot find another person to cover her shift. It’s only alright because I’m switching your shift tomorrow with Alex and you’ll have the day off to recuperate. Then it’s your usual day off the next so I think that’s enough time to get back to normal.”

“So I’m leaving at 4:30?” Disbelief evident in your voice.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I would get there now but John doesn’t come home until late tonight because he took the graveyard shift at his job and I can’t leave J.C. alone.”

“Yeah I understand, family comes first.”

“Thank you, you’re the best. See ya later.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You put down your phone and mentally prepare yourself for another 11 hours.

**********

Three red bulls, and a seasonal pumpkin spice coffee from the dispenser and it was almost midnight.

Many more customers has came in after the call, the universe seemingly wanting to tire you out further. Then it began slowing down again after 9. The time you were supposed to be going home if Patricia didn’t fucking refuse to come in.

It was about that time that a young man came in, wearing a dark suit but without the blazer. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Light brown hair and pale skin, he looked breathtaking. He quickly rounds to the back grabbing three of the big bottles of water.

“Just these for me...” he trails off as he sniffs, then he looks up and makes eye contact with you.

You two are staring at each other for a few seconds, his stare becoming unbearable and you look away.

“Ok sir... that’ll be 5.97.” You still feel his gaze. Refusing to look up, you bag his things. You hear his card slide through the machine.

“Thank you sir, have a nice night.”

“Yeah... you too.” And with that he was gone. Leaving you to think about this stranger for the rest of your shift.

**********

As promised, Debbie came at 4:30. You left to walk home. It was nice living basically across the street from your work. A short walk, but you still felt a sense of unease.

Looking all around you, you don’t spot any suspicious people. Not even one heading in the same direction as you. You let out a small sigh as you cross the road. But it does nothing to calm your nerves.

You’re trying not to seem panicked as you try to get through the door to your building but it might be obvious with how you’re shaking.

Past the door you let go if your breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Finally able to calm down. You walked to apartment, using the elevator instead of the stairs.

Once at your door your heart beat seems to have gone back to normal, but before you even put your key in the door you feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just a chill.

Unlocking all the locks you go inside, greeted by the bright pink fluorescent lights. You shut the door behind you and drop your bag on the floor. Too tired to care. Moving to go into your room, knowing that you’re not going to change into pajamas either.

Well probably take of the pants. Yeah, jeans are never comfy.

Shoes kicked off, pants off, bra off with some difficulty from your long sleeves, blankets pulled back and you’re ready for bed. You’re getting in when you hear a creek in the living room, but you don’t see anyone so it’s maybe the upstairs neighbours.

You turn around once more to lay down and you feel a pinprick at your neck. You slump over and you feel hands at your shoulders, picking you up in their arms.

Eyes won’t open, and you are quickly losing consciousness.

“Shh, you’re safe with me.”

*********

Your head is pounding, that’s what wakes you up. You still feel groggy and it makes your eyelids feel incredibly heavy. You want to sleep for more but your eyes keep fighting to open.

Once they do you are met with a room that is not your own. Everything is white, except the headboard which is a light grey, matching the bedside table. You look around, about 6 feet from the foot of the bad is a back door and there’s a bathroom to the left of the bed with the door wide open.

You run to the closed door, you grasp the handle but you get a head rush and are unable to turn the handle for a good 5 seconds. It’s no use though, the door was locked, and it doesn’t seem like a regular lock. It seems more advanced, it’s a regular handle but it’s warm, and doesn’t have any keyhole. It’s also not as big as a hotel handle, like the ones with the scanners. Irrelevant, but your mind is running a million miles an hour and you’re trying really hard to not panic.

You realize that you aren’t wearing your pants but a pair of sweats were at the edge of the king bed. You quickly pull them on. Your kidnapper has already seen your ass, but it’s a little bit comforting. Your bladder is full and it is more apparent now than a couple minutes ago.

They aren’t here yet, better be quick. You half jog into the bathroom it has a large sink and a nice looking shower, but you don’t want to use it due to there being no lock on the bathroom door and the shower door is glass. Not even one of those blurred glass doors, it is crystal clear.

You had already peed and we’re washing your hands when you hear a small beep and the locks opening. You’re drying your hands when you hear a knock at the door. You don’t answer.

Another knock, you stared at the door, a low sigh is heard and the door swings open.

It was the man from last night, except now he was covering his eyes with his hand.

“I swear I’m not looking but please come out right now.”

“... alright.” You’re voice is a little rough and just above a whisper.

“Thank you.” He turned around leaving the door open and you follow.

“Come with me.” he waves his hand over the lock and the beep is heard again.

He leads you through the door into a long hallway, when he turned to the left so did you. There’s no point in running when he would catch you in less than 2 seconds.

You pass by 4 doors, one on your left and three on your right. The fifth door on the right you entered and it was an office.

“Sit.” And you did, he sat behind the large desk and leaned forward with his elbows on it. “I need to tell you something that would be hard to hear. Hell, hard to believe, but just know that everything I’m telling you is true.”

You nodded when he paused and looked at you. You felt so out of place and uncomfortable. Heart beating so fast and hard, it feels as though it’s bursting out of your chest. Your hands slightly shaking and feet tapping where you sat on the edge of this obviously expensive chair.

“I’m going to be frank with you alright? You are my soulmate.”

You freeze, “wait... what?” You didnt believe it, he was right. He’s crazy. Soulmates were a rare thing in this world. How would he know? He only knew you for 5 seconds so why does he know? Why would he take you?

“We are soulmates. I felt it when I first met eyes with you, I know that you did too. I took you here because, to put it simply, you would be safe. There are many people after me and if they learned of your existsence they would find you and use you against me.”

“H-how do I know your not lying?” You stare at the lines in the wood of his desk, refusing to look up. When you look him in the eyes you feel the same pull that you did back at the gas station. You hear rustling and you glance up for just a second, then you look back when you realize it’s just his arm that he wants you to look at.

He begins rolling his sleeves like the way you saw last night. Or was it even still the next day? You don’t know. Not seeing any clock or any windows since you were at your home.

Beautiful lines are spread across his forearm and you realize it wasn’t there before. “Can you look at your arm?” His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to be comforting.

You stare at his arm as you pull your sleeve up, then you look down at a blank arm. You pull up your other sleeve just as roughly and see the same tattoo that he has. You touch it gently as though it’ll smear if you are as rough as you were two seconds ago.

“Mine showed up a little after I stepped out of that store. I guess you didn’t notice yours.” You rub at yours and it won’t come off, and the skin isn’t raised as though you have a regular tattoo.

“What does this mean?”

“This means that you are now mine.” You feel tears welling in your eyes.

“So I can’t go home?”

“No, and some things are going to change.” You look at him wide eyed, fearful for the changes that he has in mind.

“So I’m sure you have heard of the powered people of New York, and I am telling you that I am one of them. Not only that, but I am a member of the avengers.” He pauses, you feel his eyes on you and you can only assume he is trying to gauge your reaction. “But I didn’t achieve my abilities through government testing or anything of the sort. I was bit by a mutant spider and I gained the spiders abilities.”

“You’re... Spider-Man?”

“That’s right. Now that you’re here, I will have to give you the same abilities I have so that we will be on equal grounds.”

“How are you going to do that?” You look up at his face.

“I will bite you of course.”