#what I love about this is the ratio between his feet and the rest of his body

[kaddyssammlung]

[8ttached]

"One last time"

pairings - fontaine x blk fem reader

a/n : hey guys! I haven’t posted here in so long i hope y'all still hungry for Fontaine fics… but srsly came back with an overwhelming amount of love thank you all so much oh em geeee!! This was a scrap and I’m sure y'all can tell but bear with me lmaoo I'm thinking about making a pt2 just cus I feel like the plot/smut ratio is a little unfair (sorry) but anyway enjoy bookies!!! 

Warnings - 18+ smut minors dni!!, public sex, breakup/makeup sex, mentions of aave/n-word, more so plot than smut.

“I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

the last thing you said to Fontaine before you guys became no-contact for weeks.  Lately, you've been worried about Fontaine both mentally and physically. Losing homies and being around streets he got no business being in. but every time you mention any concern for him, his ears go mute. Him saying shit like “I’m cool” and “I’m fine” never cleared your cloud of fear. Yet, he continued his shenanigans. You knew as someone who grew up with a good family and a great upbringing, you shouldn’t be dealing with someone as reckless as him let alone dating. But deep down you loved him. You loved how he had a soft spot for you, or how he always reassured you whenever you were feeling unmotivated or unwell, even when he’d run baths and rub your feet as you rested. You knew Fontaine was a good person, all you wanted was for him to be more careful. 

You told yo-yo about your recent breakup and all she could say was

“I told you niggas ain’t shit, at least Fontaine isn’t.” she’s folding her clothes while you sit at her house head to the knees seconds away from breaking down. “He coo’ as a friend but relationship? Girl…. If toxicity was a city, that man would be mayor, believe that!” she whistles. She always did when she talked about anyone. Both bitches and niggas. You didn’t know how to live without him. Not only was he your lover, but he was your friend. Best friend at that. You’ve been through thin and thick together. Being each other’s comfort on different days and different nights. What were you thinking? You couldn’t live without him.

This was three weeks ago

Now, you're sitting at your desk organizing your planner, adding stickers, and color-coding events with colored pens and highlighters till you get a call. You look at your phone and notice the call came from an unknown number. “Now who the hell..” you whispered to yourself. It didn’t take till the 5th ring for you to just say fuck it and answer. You held the phone up to your ear, slowing down your breathing to try and hear something from the other end, till your heart dropped. 

“y/n?”

The familiar deep voice. The tone, the way he said your name, everything made your eyes widen from realization.

It was Fontaine.

You frown your eyebrows as your throat tightens. What happened to seperating? What happened to no contact? You felt sick. all of your love, your concerns, and your worries for Fontaine came all at once. You gasped lightly as you whispered his name. 

“I miss you, I wanna see you again”

Your heart sinks, just when you’ve already heard enough. You ended things with Fontaine. You were done with him. He should be done with you, so why is he calling you? and from an unknown phone number at that? “See me again? Fontaine, what do you not understand by separating? Your tone obviously sounded pissed. You were upset. This wasn’t gonna help anything between you guys. But deep down, you were happy to hear from him. You were more than glad to know that he’s still alive and okay.

“Look, I know we suppose to be alone n shit but lemme at least see yo’ pretty ass one last time, end things on good terms.”

One last time.

You take a deep sigh. 

“That’s it, one last time”

You tried to exchange a place to meet up but he insisted to pick you up and take you out for “lunch n shit.” You started getting dressed, wearing something casual but sexy, to remind Fontaine of what he’s gonna miss out on. Wearing your favorite perfume combinations, lathering your deep color legs with cocoa butter. you made sure to throw on anything Fontaine couldn’t resist. As soon as you heard the two honks from out your window, you knew it was go time.

You open the door to Fontaine smoking. The blunt between both his thick lips and his rough fingers, the view of it could make you bite your lips. Fuck the lunch date and fuck the back seat you needed him in the driver’s seat right then and there! But you wasnt gonna admit that especially with the position you were currently in. he noticed your googly eyes toward him causing his lips to sneak a smile. “Y’tryna smoke?” he lends you the blunt but you shake your head as you shake your hand in the same direction. “I’m here for lunch, not no smoke sesh” you declined. “Mkay” he sets the blunt down as he shifts the gear and drives off. slouching on the car seat, left-hand steering while the other on his thigh, manspreading with the most obvious tent in his pants. The view made your legs quiver. 

“You mind if we make a stop real quick?” the male asks without moving his sight away from the street. “Nah do what you gotta do.” you weren’t expecting anything crazy, but you also weren’t expecting him to park in some random ass empty parking lot. “I’d be lying if I said I ain’t miss you,” Taine says. But it was quiet. So quiet that it took time to understand what he said. “taine, don’t start this shit with me, I came here for lunch, not so you can convince me to stay with you while you do what I left you for.” your tone started from upsetness to disappointment. “I love you, and there ain’t nothing that’d change it, but it’s draining having to worry about where you are and even if you’re alive” You look down as you fidget with your hands. “I had to grieve someone who’s still here so I wouldn’t have to once you’re gone.” he understood how you felt but unlike you, he had a rough upbringing. Being around drugs and introduced to dealing at a young age. of course, it was gonna be hard and nearly impossible to get out of what he started in. he loved you dearly but he knew it would be a crazy idea to just up and go. He sighs as he licks his lips.  “Lemme try to figure shit out, I ain’t promising nun, but I’ll try to reduce all the crazy shi, ight?” you look at him with deception. “You sure? I don’t gotta worry about whether ya ass is injured or dead?” you frown. “I ain’t say allat, I said ill try. It’s gonna take time” you sigh. You’re more than happy that Fontaine is at least trying to get out of what he’s in. The awkward silence filled the room quickly.

“But, until then” Fontaine stretches as he lets his seat down. “How bout you tell me why you came out like that, just for lunch” he mocks you as you smack your lips at the question. “Damn, I can’t look good now?” you smile, analyzing Fontaine. You knew Fontaine for years. You knew what he liked and when he liked it, and as of right now, he was ready to take ya ass to poundtown. “Nah, unless there’s a reason you wore them scents ykno’ i like.” you had that man looking up and down in greed and lust and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling the same way either. After moments of intense eye contact, you were on top of Fontaine. grinding your sweats on his jeans, moaning through the messy, passionate kiss, hands holding his locs, desperate for any and all of Fontaine. Hands gripping your ass through your sweatpants, seamlessly and eagerly pulling them off while kissing your glistening breasts as he pulled down the zipper, teasing you as he planted hickies from the neck down. Lord, how were you gonna explain to yo-yo how they suddenly got there? 

You knew this was wrong, you knew ‘one last time’ would turn into multiple. But you couldn’t stop.

“I missed you so much, I missed this” he mumbled in between each kiss. Each one being sloppier and more passionate. You couldn’t say anything. You were so caught up in the pleasure that all you could do was sigh and moan. “Damn I see you missed me too” he grins as he rubs his fingers on your clit, spreading the wetness all over your inner thigh. “Don’t you think that’s why I-” You get interrupted by the male’s thick fingers teasing his way inside. You couldn’t do anything but grip his shirt and rub yourself against him to get anything from him. “Please don’t stop Fontaine..” you gasp, lying your forehead against his shoulder. All you could do is gush and melt onto him. “Im not gonna stop ma,  haven’t seen ya’ass in a month and i still know what you like” and with that you fell apart, cuming all over Fontaine hands. Rolling your eyes back and crying, practically screaming his name.

After a moment you finally catch your breath slightly raising your head up to look at Fontaine’s reaction and his cheesy ass was smiling. “Damn you must of really missed me” he laughs at the mess you have yet to see. “huh?” you sigh as you look back and notice a nice-sized wet spot on his pants. “shit im so sorry i didn’t mean to-” you get caught off by a heavy sigh “shit! how we supposed to eat when I look like I dun’ pissed myself” you laugh. “You can wear my sweater around your waist” you suggested but Fontaine had a different idea. “Nah, ima change at the house after i finish what you started” he lazily wraps his arm around you enjoying your defense argument on how he started this whole thing.

We all knew that one last time was gonna be a few.

[hatkuu]

kylar killing someone for you...

gen! kylar and gen! reader drabble utc. (horror, descriptions of a dead body, disturbing basic kylar stuff but w/ a sprinkle of murder, kidnapping, general yandere behaviour)

It happens to a love interest Kylar can't stand seeing you with. They can't stand it so much, that they're removing them from the equation entirely.

At first you'll think: Hmm... Kylar's been a bit overly twitchy and openly happy lately - which to your unknowing self, is very cute at first! They're all smiley and blushy, touching you constantly without a hint of anxiousness, pressing kisses all over your hands in nigh worship, and constantly loudly exclaiming your love for one another to every passerby that they can!

Then you'll notice it.

You'll notice the lack of light in Kylar's eyes. You'll notice the cold, calculating expression they hold whenever you talk about anyone other than them. You'll notice they way one hand is immediately stuffed into their pocket as soon as someone begins to approach you. You'll notice the way that all of the self-care methods you taught them have been long forgotten. It's not just at school, either. It's everywhere. Even in their own home, their supposed safe haven. You'll still see the haunting reality even as you so desperately wish to will it away. You'll notice the horrible, pungent smell bubbling up from the basement, a deep aching one that lingers at the back of your throat, never truly leaving until curiousity gets the better of you and while Kylar's asleep you push open the basement door, stepping down each groaning, wood-rotted step until you're violently assaulted by the nose-crinkling, acrid smell of death.

They're barely recognisable. A decayed, fleshy lump of their former self that you barely recognise.

You hear the basement door slam from behind. The polished concrete floor of the basement gets so much colder from just a sound. The soles of your feet ache, throbbing from a phantom hypothermia. The aching sensation spreads, from toe to cheek, pulsating with each padded footstep down the basement stairs. A repetitive, familiar sound, and a presence that you know came with it.

"M-My love? W-What are you doing down here? Did you get lost?"

You can't help the panicked yelp that slips out as Kylar places a much-too-calm hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to turn around to face them.

"You know you can't wander a-around here too much-- my parents--"

Then they pause. They scan your expression, brows furrowing in realisation that you're scared. You're shaking underneath their palm and your eyes are flickering between their face and the stairs. They remember the corpse that's rotting on the floor of the basement behind you. You must be worried. Worried that they're going to do the same to you (They never would-- nevernevernevernever--). You want to leave. You want to leave them and they won't let that happen.

-

"I brought you some food, m-my love!"

He slices the fruit with the same knife, a deadly precision that cuts neat little geometrical shapes. You don't open your mouth anymore.

"Soon, I won't have to worry about a-anyone else and it'll just be y-you and I..."

Kylar presses a slice against your lips, pushing past the barrier until it rests heavy on your tongue. They know now to cut each slice thin enough so you don't choke.

Your eyes don't leave the permanently stained concrete. It's a rusty sort of colour that's remained even as you watched Kylar scrub the remnants of your once friend away with a two-to-one ratio of bleach and water.

Kylar giggles happily, head falling forward onto your shoulder as they clutch onto your body.

"You're mine. Mine and it makes me so happy! Noone else is left who dares to say otherwise! You'll be my spouse and I'll take care of you,"

He smiles against your bare shoulder, kissing the flesh with his teeth before he continues.

"I'll keep you down here long enough for you to love me back l-like you did before. I-It's okay. I'll wait. Even if you s-say you hate me."

You want to feel bad - this was your lover, or is, in Kylar's eyes - but you can't. You do hate them. No amount of kisses and promises of a married future together can bring your long-dead friends back. Most of the time though, you don't speak. Which is worse.

With a defeated, heartbroken sigh, Kylar pulls back to face you, eyes wet with tears that don't fall.

"Why do you hate me? I did it for you - a-and we were so in love before you found them s-so why--"

Kylar gasps, stumbling over their words and mumbling incoherently as they come to their own realisation without any of your input.

They lurch forward, pushing you onto your back with wild eyes and a furious, ghastly expression.

"Is there someone else you're not telling me about, my love?"

[thembolaura2]

Babel is a book that came highly recommend to me from people I trust, and honestly I can see why. On it's surface, it should've been something I was really into - a book about anti-imperialism set against the backdrop of the Opium Wars while also being about etymology and the inherent imperfections of translating between two languages. Hell it even quotes Frantz Fanon at one point.

And yet.

I've been thinking about it a lot recently, and I think I've come to some conclusions of the things about it that really rubbed me the wrong way - major spoilers for the whole book follow.

Fundamentally, it comes down to one word: class. I think RF Kuang has a massive blindspot around class and classism, and it seeped through in this book in a way that I found quite aggravating.

I'll start by saying that the only working class characters that I can remember are Professor Lovell's housekeeper Mrs Piper, and the northern strikers. And kind of Griffin.

Mrs Piper is basically shown as a stereotypical loving, kindly housekeeper. She's Scottish and makes scones for Robin! That's...about all there is to her character, aside from one particular thing that sticks out to me - there's a bit early on where Robin gets beaten by Lovell for hyperfocusing and missing the start of his lesson, and Mrs Piper gets judged (not by Robin mind, by the book) for not acknowledging anything was wrong:

Some other child suited to better, kinder treatment might have realised that such nonchalance on the part of adults like Mrs Piper [...] to a badly bruised eleven-year-old was frightfully wrong

Now ignoring that this is a book set in 1830s Britain where this would have been a common occurrance anyway (yes it still would've been wrong back then but given the cultural context I don't think there were many other children "suited to a better, kinder treatment"), what grates me about this is that there's absolutely no interrogation of why she might not want to speak out about it. Her job is as a housekeeper. Presumably she is reliant on this job to survive. If she spoke out about this, chances are she'd both lose this job and potentially any future housekeeping jobs. And like, it's not a huge thing, but it's an early sign that the approach to class is at best, lacking.

So then we come to the northern strikers. First introduced as a rowdy, scary crowd - fine, it's from Robin's perspective and he's had a very bourgeois, sheltered upbringing after being picked up by Professor Lovell. They come back later, now on Robin's side, to act as. Uh. A barricade. Only one of them, Abel Goodfellow (lol) is the only one who gets any particuar characterisation, the rest are just a faceless crowd of people who the book doesn't seem to have any real interest in. The only reason they exist is to give the Oxford students and professors an extra layer of protection so none of the actual characters are in any sort of risk for a few chapters.[1]

Which brings me to one of my biggest issues. This whole book has been leading up to this "revolution" - but the revolution is a bunch of academics hiding in the big Colonialism Tower, while a bunch of proles are the ones who actually put themselves at risk. They are basically treated as cannon fodder to protect the brave academics, but then end up getting cold feet when it seems like they might be in some actual danger.

What the fuck.

What puts an even bigger point on this is knowing, throughout the entire book, that RF Kuang herself went to Oxford and pulled from her experiences. While this makes her exploration of the racism in the upper echelons of British society very real and is a legitimately good critique, it also makes the way she approaches the working class in this book feel extremely patronising - made worse by my recent discovery of just how bourgeois the rest of her background is (she went to a Greenhill School where each year costs upwards of $30k, Georgetown University which has a dispropotionately high ratio of students from wealthy families, studied at both Oxbrige unis, and finally an Ivy League uni in Yale.)

And I get it, I'm white, that is absolutely a privilege I have that she does not. I would never deny that, and I never want to talk over people who have experienced racism. But also, class-based oppression is very fucking real. So to have a literal Oxbridge scholar write a book decrying British imperialism and colonialism, criticising Oxford for being a racist driver of these things, while simultaneously glorifying the glamourous aspects of the institution [2] and just glossing over the intensity of classism in British society is, quite frankly, fucking galling.

Oh also, if you want me to be sympathetic to a character, maybe don't make them the fucking prince to another empire??? Utterly bizarre choice.

[1] As an aside, this section is another good example of her blindness towards class:

Despite all expectations, Abel's supporters grew in number over the following days. The workmen strikers were better at getting the message out than any of Robin's pamphlets. They spoke the same lanugage, after all. The British could identify with Abel in a way they could not with foreign-born translators.

The implication I get from this is that because they're foreign academics, those stupid, racist proles ignored them, but like. There is a long, storied history of solidarity across racial lines among the British working classes - admittedly my knowledge of this history doesn't go back as far as when this would have been taking place, but either way, the fact it's not mentioned that the British working class would see them primarily as Oxford toffs just seems like such a weird thing to skip over.

[2] Honestly my issue with all the anachronistic things like the oysters isn't that it's anachonistic but that it comes across as bragging about all the special things she got to experience at Oxford

[wamulu-gorillaz]

Hi uh I was wondering if I could request a murodoc/2d with a s/o thats extremely short :) (also love your art work :p)

Aw thank you so much!

Murdoc:

- The fella cannot boast the 6-feet-tall club so having you around definitely feeds his ego

- Has been known to rearrange his cupboards so that everything is more convenient for you. It's a big gesture and, as per usual, he brushes it off like it's no big deal or that he did it for himself ("The old shoulders aren' what they used to be, you know...")

- Has thought about attaching a balloon on a string to your clothes so that he can find you in a crowd. He's never gone through with it. It's either because he'd never leave your side, or because he's secretly scared of getting in trouble for it bahaha

- You're the perfect size for him to sweep you off your feet and whisk you away to whatever destination is next (raunchy laughs included)

- When you hug, he sometimes wonders what you hear when you press your ear to his chest. In the same hug, he rests his head on yours and he smells your shampoo. You're the perfect size for being held close.

2D:

- I mentioned this during a previous matchup, but this is an important point: if you are not in his line of sight, he cannot see you and has been close to panicking when he thinks he's lost you when he could've sworn he just saw you

- Forget being the big spoon when the two of you cuddle - your position has now officially been renamed as 'backpack' because that's exactly the size ratio between the two of you

- While 2D enjoys when you're the backpack, he really prefers being the big spoon. He loves having you curled up to his chest and wrapping his long arms around you in a warm embrace

- In fact, any chance he gets, he'll have you wrapped in his arms - you're so smol, he just has to. Playing video games together is always nice because you're small enough to fit between his legs and arms as he sits behind you. It's perfect for him because it means easy access to top-of-the-head kisses

- You'd think 2D would do the same as Murdoc^, lowering all the things in his cupboards for you, but he actually secretly likes it when you can't reach things. He feels needed when you ask him to get something down for you :)

[spicyyy-muffin]

Sex Eyes

Reader x Paul Lahote

SMUT 

Warnings: Oral Sex

All day. All day Paul had been giving you those looks. It was supposed to be a pack gathering along with the council. Sit around, have a cookout, make some hot dogs and hamburgers. If it was nice enough maybe take a dip in La Push. 

But Paul wouldn’t stop looking at you with sex eyes. You were wondering because of the mind link if the rest of the boys could hear the dirty thoughts you could only imagine he was thinking. 

You were currently sitting in between Jake and Leah. Talking about some chemistry assignment you were working on. Clearly not understand molar ratios. 

You could feel his eyes on you. You just knew it. Looking up you were right. A small smirk grew on his face when he realized I knew. 

Leah nudged me. “Did you hear me?” 

 “What? Yeah, I think you have to balance the chemical equations in the first half and-”

Two burly arms wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Hi pretty girl.” 

“Um and then, uhhh you have to put the molar ratio? I don't know if that’s right. I can come over later to help you if you want?” You turned around, a specific boy already pressing kisses into your shoulder. 

“Hey babe, what's up?” 

Jake was already gone, and you could hear Leah, “No I think I got it thanks though.” 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” His mouth was blowing warm air into your ear. His warmth and smell intoxicating. 

“We are at a family gathering, get your head out of the gutter Lahote.” 

“Mmmm come on baby I just need to talk to you for a minute, please? Pretty please?” 

You huffed standing up.  

He grabbed your hand pulling you along with him. 

You finally noticed the clouds covering the once sunny sky. “Paulllll come onnn, it was a nice day it's gonna rain soon.” 

He turned around suddenly causing you to bump into his chest. Right behind the nearest shrub of trees. His warm hands were suddenly on both of your cheeks. 

Pressing your mouth into his. His lips were moving slowly. He wanted to take his time, work you up to the level of insanity he was currently at. 

“Mmmmm” 

The soft warmth but rough texture of his slightly chapped lips was addicting. You reached up gripping the soft strands of his brown hair in between your fingers. His hand reached behind your neck pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Paul-mm-” 

“Shhhh”

You finally pulled away. Both of you struggling to catch your breath. 

“Do you think we can get at least 50 feet away from the others before you harass me?”  

“Is it harassing if you want me just as bad?” 

The smirk I adored so much back on his face. 

“Who says I love it?” 

His hand landed on your chest. On top of your heart. 

“I feel like sometimes you forget about my super hearing.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I hate you.” 

Walking down the paved road pulling him behind you with his hand. 

“You love me, don't lie. Where are you taking me woman?” 

It was your turn to turn around with a huff? 

“You’re the one who pulled me away because you couldn’t stop looking at me with sex eyes aren’t you supposed to tell me?” 

His eyes widened and a laugh slipped out. “It's not my fault! I told you not to wear that sundress!” 

You slapped him in the chest, “Is that why Embry kept looking at my legs?” 

His face dropped suddenly solemnly. “He what?” He stopped walking. “Embry thinks he can look at you like that? Yeah okay, I’ll teach him a lesson to make sure he can’t look at shit for a while.” He turned around marching away. 

You ran to catch up with him. “Joke! It was just a joke! Babe-” You pulled his arm so he could look at you. “Baby it was a joke, Embry doesn’t look at me like that.” 

His eyes turned into slits. “Think you're funny do you?” 

You started to laugh. “You should have seen your face oh my-” 

His hands gripped your waist, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Paul! What the hell?” You shrieked. 

His other hand came down landing on your ass cheek. “Ow! That hurt you, jerk!” 

“That's what you get.” 

He walked into the forest again. It was another 15 minutes until the path became familiar. 

“Are your parents still at work?” 

“Yeah they are going to dinner tonight in Port Angeles tonight too.” 

“Good.” 

He walked up the wooden steps of your porch. Grabbing the extra key behind your mom’s aloe vera plant, unlocking the door. 

He turned around grabbing you again but this time wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Suddenly nervous. Until his lips attached to yours slowly walking up the stairs. Traveling down to the sensitive part of your neck. “I'm sorry baby, but I really need you. Like really bad.” 

He pushed you down on the bed, spreading your legs. 

Pressing kisses into your thighs slowly going higher until he reached the wet patch of your grey undies. He reached for the band, slipping the small material off. 

“Is this okay, can I?” 

“yes, you're perfect.”

He smiled one last time and his lips were suddenly on your core, moving ferociously. 

“Baby, baby ahhh.” 

He moaned against your clit adding another level of pleasure. 

His tongue roamed through your slit moving up and down slowly pressing into your hole. An inhuman growl coming from the back of his throat. You couldn’t tell who enjoyed this more. 

He wrapped his lips around your clit suddenly sucking. Your back arched. “Fuck! Paul, please don’t stop, please don’t-oh my god.” 

Two of his long thick fingers slipped in pressing hard at the spongy part he knew drove you crazy. 

“Doin so good for me baby. That’s it, just like that, you gonna cum for me?” 

Your hands tugged on his hair, “yesyesyesyes.” 

“Fuck that’s so hot, you’re so beautiful, cum for me baby, come on.” 

His lips were suddenly sucking on your clit again. His moaning growing again you didn’t even notice he was grinding against the edge of your bed. 

You reached your peak, euphoria spreading in your veins. “Im cumming, oh my god.” 

“Mmmm” 

You felt it travel all through your legs, your clit pulsing on fire, your whole body was swarming in heat. 

Paul kept licking up your arousal until you started to whine. “Too-too sensitive baby.” 

You closed your eyes as he reached your face, lips slanting down to yours. Making you taste yourself. 

You reached down trying to relieve him before he stopped you. 

“Mm too sensitive babe.” 

He went back to kissing you before you pulled away. 

“What do you mean, I wanna get you off.” 

A smile raised on his lips before a slight blush rose to his cheeks. “You already did pretty girl.”

-------

I’m sorry if this was bad I’m kinda new to this, lmk what you think.

But I hope you enjoyed! Requests are open. :)

[tfwlawyers]

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

-

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

-

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

-

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

-

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

-

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

-

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

-

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

-

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

-

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

-

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

He

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

-

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

-

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

-

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

-

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

-

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

-

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

-

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the  proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

-

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

-

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

-

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

-

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

-

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

-

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

-

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

-

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

-

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

[backtoyuta]

NCT 127: at a frat party

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

❁ [Taeil] Introverted confidant; Taeil is the guy you go to to seek solace in when you're not really feeling the vibe. Maybe the music sucked, the drinks weren't having an effect on you or it was too rowdy, whatever the problem was you could always sneak away or locate him somewhere a little quieter and just observe the mess from a distance. He'll laugh appreciatively if you took the initiative to sneak some snacks or drinks laid out and ruffle you hair playfully to thank you, making astute remarks about how drunk his friends are and groan about how he'll probably have to carry one of them home later. It's likely that you'll both be stuck with the task of making sure everyone gets home safe, shove bread in someone's mouth in hopes of it helping somehow even if you're not totally sober yourself. Maybe he gets really into the party once in a while, and when he does he benignly encourages you to let loose yourself and join in the fun, however it's almost always a guarantee that you'll end up taking a breather from the noise together in the garden, the part of the living room that isn't occupied, in desperate situations a random storage cupboard (Everybody got the wrong idea with that one) (No, you never quite lived it down). It's a nice feeling to see his expression perk when he finally sees you, the quick hug you always exchange, the knowing glances when your social batteries are already dying and its time to dip.

❁ [Johnny] Life of the party; Being the extroverted king he is, Johnny is the guy you might end up holding onto his sleeve for most of the night, figuratively. The guy that knows everyone, he'll happily adopt you if you look like you feel out of your depth and kindly make you a drink and usher you towards a group to try and let loose. Being with Johnny means a lot of attention, being introduced to people here and there and him playfully picking on you during drinking games, volunteering to make a fool of himself when someone dares you to do something a little too outrageous. Johnny is the comfort you need whilst simultaneously the reason for your death because drunk Johnny means a lot of shameless flirting and eye contact from across the kitchen counter, as well as keeping you close to his side and out of reach when someone else tries the same thing on you. At some heinous hour in the morning the rooms are considerably emptier, discarded cups everywhere and chiller music is humming from the bluetooth speakers, you could kid yourself that it was just you two even though you're sitting in a pool of people. His arm swung casually around your shoulders, "Did you have a good time?" Falling from his mouth slightly slurred and giving you an affectionate squeeze and a lazy kiss to the top of your head when you nod your head yes.

❁ [Taeyong] Hangover mum no. 1; We all know Taeyong has his maternal vibe going on, but lest we forget he too is a guy in his mid twenties looking for a good time. That being said, he wasn't surprised when Johnny dropped you off to his charge, the smell of alcohol radiating off of you, your appearance looking a lot more fragile from what he remembered when you first arrived that evening. He was incredibly patient, letting you rest in his bedroom while you sipped your water, salty pretzels at the ready for when you got the munchies and if disaster struck, he didn't judge when he pushed your hair back for a tactical chunder. He would assure you that you weren't keeping him from his friends when it had been a little while, and would keep a close eye on you when you rejoin the group, just a cup of lemonade in your grasp as a means of preventing a relapse. He's the guy that doesn't pressure you to join during drinking games, is perfectly content to give you his hoodie and let you sidle up to him as means of comfort and just observe everyone else admitting to disgusting truths during Never Have I Ever. At the end of the night he walks to your pace, will listen and hum attentively at any drunken musings that fall out of your mouth he knows you'll regret telling him tomorrow.

❁ [Yuta] King of the drinking games; Yuta isn't the type to shy away from a good time, and he's always front and centre when it comes to lowkey humiliating himself in Ring of Fire, truth or dare, or any of the classics. His confidence outweighs the most disgusting things he's admitted to doing, the embarrassment of what someone dared him to do and you've never seen someone chug a drink with so much gusto. Always manages to come up with the most evil questions, hitting right where it hurts and you dread when his turn rolls around again and his gaze lands on you. He's impressed when you take up his dares with dignity, or admit shamelessly to any hidden tattoos or piercings. If you caught his interest, will switch on the scorpio and keep his gaze trained on you for the rest of the night, will try and pry any information out of you by keeping you included in conversations and will 100% invite you to his room when the party is over. His demeanour reads as chaotic, he thrives being around his friends, but you somehow manage to unlock that calmer more intuitive part of him when he catches you outside the bathroom to check that he didn't go too far during one of the infamous games being played in the living room.

❁ [Doyoung] Hangover mum no.2; We've all seen the sweet and caring side of Doyoung jump out before, so if you're on your merry way towards being wasted he can't help but intervene to make sure you're ok. Don't be fooled though, he doesn't really have the patience of Taeyong, so expect a whole lotta tough love. He won't hesitate to flick you on the forehead when you get a little too in his face, though he deliberately doesn't do it too hard. Inadvertently gives off the impression that you're a nuisance as he scoffs and sighs at you weeping over a packet of crisps, has to later make a point of assuring you that "you're fine, you should just know better". There's an air of fondness that lingers when you settle down a bit and start to enjoy yourself at a more acceptable level of tipsiness and he insists that he walks you home. "Begrudgingly" hands over his jacket when you complain about being cold even though that was his plan all along, and takes mental notes of all the ridiculous drunken comments you make so he can torment you with them later.

❁ [Jaehyun] The guy who may or may not be responsible for your death; One thing about Jaehyun, he's the guy who's terrible at mixing drinks. Don't look at Johnny, he won't help you, when you asked for sex on the beach expect anal on the rocks because Jaehyun knows jack shit about ratio of alcohol to mixer. Don't worry too much, as much as it's his fault for accidentally getting you trashed, he takes as much responsibility for looking after you and making sure you have a good time. Lowkey turns into a frat boy cliche, the hat is on backwards and he's already tugging your arm to coerce you into being his partner for beer pong. He drinks most of the cups whenever you lose to make up for the terrifying concoctions he had you drink earlier and celebrates over excessively when you win by wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting you in to the air slightly. His harmless nice chad vibes make for good company and there's the tingly feeling of chemistry when he laughs loudly at your jokes, eyes turning into little crescents and dimples popping, he watches proudly and thinks "that's my girl" when you make all his friends laugh with you.

❁ [Jungwoo] Level 300 clinger; whether you're moving between groups, leaving to get more food, or shifting to get a better view of the beer pong table, Jungwoo will find a way to squeeze in next to you some way some how. You can always feel an arm ghosting around your waist or around your shoulders, or hear his giggle right there beside your ear. After spending so much time on your feet, you both eventually flop on the sofa, a tangled mess of limbs whilst you try and catch your breath. People keep asking if you're together because of the excessive physical contact, and you hate how he thrives at you scrambling awkwardly for an answer to convey that wasn't the case while he just smiles innocently, making no effort to debunk the comments. There's a high chance that if either of you end up staying over in the other's house, he'll make sure he'll consensually sleep right there next to you, talking randomly about any topic that crosses his mind until you fall asleep. The mornings involve laughing at each other's bed head until you tune into your hangover's, sharing the one bottle of water while scrambling for painkillers and nagging at each other for not cutting either of you off when you went too far.

❁ [Mark] Lightweight; to keep it short and simple, Mark Lee proved himself to be a bit of a lightweight from the get-go, and now here you were, the room dim and bass thumping while Mark laughs loudly at whatever Johnny was saying and you haven't even been there for an hour yet. Mark is the guy that is kinda hard to keep track of, you thought you saw him in the kitchen but now he's messing around with Haechan in the garden and each time you regroup with him he's even more drunk than before. He always finds you eventually, maybe you were taking a load off at the snack table, munching crisps and replying to texts when a lanky arm swings over your shoulders and Mark's smily face is way too close to your line of sight asking if you're OK. If he feels he's neglected you for too long he overcompensates by ushering you to his current group and making a point of pulling a fold out chair right next to his, his laugh dominating the conversation even if the joke wasn't that funny. When the night draws to a close, he settles down, the lack of people taking a toll on his energy and that's where he engages in conversations way too deep for a frat party and way too personal for just friends, though you never worried, there was no way he would remember any of this tomorrow.

❁ [Haechan] Partner in crime; That one friend who you end up hanging with the whole night, even if that wasn't the intention. Haechan doesn't fear drunkenness, it doesn't seem like he fears anything, and he'll always without fail drag you down with him. He's the guy that cheers obnoxiously when you down your shot, always picks on you in the drinking games because he loves to see you embarrassed and the one you sneak away with to try cigarettes even if it turns out you don't really like them. His famous last words are always "I'll do it if you do it" and that's the story of how you both ended up jumping into a neighbour's pool completely wasted, and now hoarding the bottle of tequila. Haechan is the guy that kind of makes you make a complete fool out of yourself, but always assures you that nobody will remember by the morning and to just live in the moment. Your favourite part of these frat parties is always looking through your photos the next day and laughing at all the horrendous selfies and videos he took before you noticed he had your phone for the last 15 minutes.

[moralesispunk]

Better Than the Art

Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Summary: as you guided a school trip around the museum you were joined by a handsome stranger who just so happened to be an FBI agent working in art crime.

I was inspired for this when I found the photo below on Pintrest!

Thursdays are your favourite day to work at the museum and that is because on Thursdays the museum is open for school trips. 

It was a routine you had grown to love. You start your day walking a group of tiny humans around the exhibits from Renaissance to Baroque to Neoclassicism to Romanticism, winning them over just before moving them to the canteen. After lunch you let them run free around everything from surrealism to pop art, watching their faces react to the strange and wonderful works of art that line the room. By the end of the day they are lying on their stomachs in a room full of classics, legs kicking in the air while they draw their own piece of art to stick to the wall on the way out. As their teacher walks them towards their bus a little more interested in art than they had been before they walked in they yell a chorus of thank you and you get to pay attention to their small works of art in more detail. There are drawings of them and their friends, or their dog, or the occasional attempt at a recreation of one of the paintings they saw during their tour. It is a wonderful day, listening to them talk about the art in the most simple way rather than give a twenty minute, or pretentious, response to “how does this art make you feel”.

They say exactly how it makes them feel; happy, sad, excited, bored. It is refreshing to listen to what they have to say about the art that you get to look at every day.  

As you walked around with the group of 10-year olds today you noticed they were a lot quieter than your usual groups. You had spent most of your morning hearing your own voice and for once you were excited that lunch was coming up after this next room. You stopped at the first painting in the room and turned to the circle that had formed around you.

"How does this painting make you feel?"

The question echoed around the hall for a moment before a voice that was far too deep for a ten year old came from your side.

“Happy.”

You turned to the man, dressed in suit trousers and a shirt with a suit jacket folded across his arms. You were taken aback by how handsome this man was; his hair slightly messy and a few crinkles by his eyes from the small smile on his face.

“Look at the way their smiles are painted,” he stepped closer towards you so he was now in line with the group of children in front of you, “the way she paints a smile is just so... real. I feel as though I’m right there, dancing with all those people. I can feel their happiness.”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that was now covering your face at how enthusiastically this man spoke about the art on the wall or the warmth that was now creeping up your cheeks at how his eyes never once landed on the actual painting but stayed locked on you. 

“I agree,” you sighed contently, a moment passing where you almost forgot that you were in the middle of a busy museum guiding a school trip rather than standing alone with this stranger. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself and turning back to the children, “does anyone agree with Mr...”

“Pike. But please, Marcus.”

“Marcus,” you smiled at the man, “does anyone agree with Marcus.”

A sea of hands flew up as the quiet group finally began to speak about how they liked that the people were dancing in bare feet or that they could see them singing along to the band painted in the background. As the chatter continued you mouthed a thank you to Marcus and he shook his head with a smile.

“Let’s move on then,” you called out, stepping round the group to lead them to the next painting.

“Mind if I tag along, get the free guided tour?” Marcus walked next to you.

“Not at all,” you smiled back.

You guided the tour around the rest of the room, the children now more involved than they had been before Marcus joined you and were talking about their favourite parts of the art you were showing them. Marcus stood a few paces behind, listening carefully to your description for each painting or sculpture, biting back a smile when you got really excited as you spoke about your favourite part of the painting and your voice got that little bit louder while you spoke a little faster. 

At the end of the hall you walked into the canteen and the children’s teacher sat them all down at one of the tables, pulling out their lunchboxes as the loud chatter began.

“I’ll come back and collect you all in forty-five minutes?” you said to the teacher and she nodded before you turned back to Marcus.

He had waited for you at the edge of the room, half reading one of the information plaques next to a painting as he watched you walk towards him. You never were usually this forward with someone but he was handsome and you were intrigued.

“I know this might be a strange request but do you want to get lunch with me?” you asked when you finally reached him, clasping your hands in front of you to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I would love to,” Marcus held his hand out towards the exit, “lead the way.”  

There was a cafe next to the museum that you liked to frequent on your lunch breaks and you decided to take Marcus there, telling him that they sold the best sandwiches you had ever had on the walk over.

“Its the ratio!” you laughed when Marcus asked how the sandwich could be that good, “the bread to sauce to contents, its a perfect balance.”

Marcus threw this head back in a laugh before speeding up to reach for the door before you could. When you stepped inside you were glad that it was quieter than usual today, leading Marcus towards a table in the corner beside the window. A waitress you recognised walked over towards the table and you ordered two sandwiches before she headed into the back.

“I hope you like the sandwich after I hyped it up so much,” you laughed.

“You seem like you have good taste so I trust you,” he flashed you a smile and you could feel your cheeks warm before you cleared your throat.

“So, are you from around here?”

Marcus shook his head, taking a drink of the coffee that had been placed in front of him.

“I moved from Dallas a couple of months ago but things had been so hectic with work that this is the first chance I have got to check out the sights, the museums.”

You hummed, letting the cup of coffee warm your hands before taking a sip.

“What kind of work do you do?”

“FBI. Art crimes,” he replied plainly.

“Oh, wow,” you laughed, “well Agent Pike, busy with all the undercover work since you arrived then?”

“Yes actually,” your eyes went wide in time for the sandwiches being placed in front of you and Marcus laughed, “it’s not as exciting as it sounds.”

“I doubt that. Anyway, Bon Appétit.”

The both of you went quiet as you bit into the sandwiches, Marcus letting out a groan that almost made your cheeks flush before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This is... the best sandwich I’ve ever had. You sure didn’t lie about that.”

“Told you!”

“You’ve got a little,” Marcus waved towards the side of your mouth before lifting his thumb to the side of your mouth and swiping some sauce away, “got it.”

“Oh, thank you,” you dipped your head down to hide your blush, hearing Marcus chuckle a little as you did so.

Lunch went by quickly, the conversation never stopping between you both as you told him why you moved to DC and more about your friends and family. He told you about his move here, slightly divulging into a failed engagement that made the smile fall from his face and so you quickly changed the subject. 

Laughing at something he said your eyes caught the clock on the wall.

“Oh shoot, I need to head back,” you pulled your purse from your bag and Marcus leaned across the table to stop you with a palm on top of your hand.

“Please, let me,” he pulled out his wallet to leave some money for the check and a tip.

“Marcus, I-”

“No buts, my treat,” he smiled.

“Thank you, Marcus. How about I let you join in for the second half of the tour then, if you’re not busy?”

“I’d love that.”

By the time you and Marcus reached the canteen the children were all ready to go and so you took off in the direction of this afternoons exhibits. The children were a lot more enthused with this art; the bright colours and wacky subject matter setting a chatter among them that didn’t stop until the end of the day.

Every so often you would look up to Marcus who was focused on what you were saying and he would flash you a smile. There wasn’t a time that when he smiled that gorgeous smile you didn’t lose track of what you were saying and had to shake yourself to get back to the tour.

When you reached the final room, filled with the most famous pieces of art that the museum held, you gathered the children in the middle of the room. 

“Now, I want to see your art,” you pulled out the paper and pencils, handing them to each child sitting on the ground, “you can draw yourself or you friends, or a landscape piece...”

You headed towards Marcus who was now sitting on a bench a bit further back from the group.

“Can maybe even attempt drawing a piece of the art,” you handed a piece of paper to Marcus as well and gave him a wink before turning back to the children, “whatever you want.”

You let them draw for fifteen minutes, walking around quietly as you watched their art come to life. Every so often you would glance over to Marcus who was now sitting with one leg over the other as he leaned on one of the gift shop tour guides. His face was set in stone, his tongue peeking out slightly whenever he sat back to look at what he was drawing before leaning back down to finish it.

“Alright, I think everyone is about done. On the way out there is a wall of art and I want you to stick yours up there so add your name at the bottom.”

When the group of children were finally herded together by their teacher, their art pinned on the wall and a cheer of small thank yous shouted in your direction, you finally turned back to Marcus.

“I drew something better than the art,” he handed you a piece of paper.

When you looked down at the paper there was a shaded in drawing of yourself. It was... beautiful. You smiled down at the paper, your finger tracing over it for a moment.

“Today was the best day I’ve had since... since I can remember and I would love to get to know you more,” Marcus’s voice brought your attention back up to him.

“Marcus, this is- I- thank you,” you finally managed, holding the paper to your chest, “I would love to see you again.”

“I don’t really know the area that well but theres a nice Italian near my place if you like that sort of food?”

“Sounds perfect,” you nodded, turning around and grabbing a spare bit of paper to scribble down your phone number, “call me?”

Marcus nodded, folding the note and placing it in his trouser pocket. You decided to lean into the new-found courage you had gathered today, leaning forward while balancing yourself on Marcus’s arm and placing a kiss to his cheek.

“See you soon, Marcus.”

//

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa​ @queridopascal

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 6- We’ll Stumble And Fall

Bucky Barnes x reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: Realizing Zemo was behind the bombing in Vienna all along, your growing team of four heads to the airport. But will you make it to Siberia in time?

Warning: fighting, oh boy some angst, some fluff for the soul, long chapter

Masterlist

“I can’t believe you guys actually brought everyone a suit. How thoughtful.” You chuckle sarcastically while following the rest of the team over to the airport.

“Yeah. Well, wearing jeans and a t-shirt probably wouldn’t cut it.” Replies Clint as you continue onward, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Soon Steve has the six of you positioned in various areas in the airport as you await the inevitable meeting with the one and only Tony Stark and whoever the fuck has decided to join him. At this point you’re only here for Bucky and to get your asses to Siberia to stop the sleeping Winter Soldiers from ever waking up again.

Although it appears that something else is afoot between Steve’s friends, knowing only that this disagreement has something to do with the Sokovian Accords and freedom to fight or something like that you’re honestly not one hundred percent sure. All that matters to you is the safety and freedom of Bucky, that’s all that you care to fight about.

Leaning against an airport window, you squint your eyes in search of the others outside to no avail, nothing very dramatic is going on, well at least what you can tell by.

“Anything?” Wonders Bucky as you turn away from the glass and walk over to him.

Giving him a casual once over, you simply shrug, “Not yet. Guess the shows not ready to start.”

“Hey guys over here!” Calls Sam from further down the airport terminal, “Hurry! I see them!” 

“As you were saying.” Smirks Bucky.

“Shut up.” You mutter before hastily jogging over to Sam as he looks out the window, “Jeesh alright man, we’re here.”

“Alright good. Look I found the Quinjet.” Replies Sam as your eyes trail across the large parking lot where the aircraft sits comfortably in one of the hangers.

Soon he touches his earpiece to alert Steve, “Their Quinjet’s in hanger five, north runway.” He says before turning to glance at the two of you on either side of him, “Alright let’s roll, come on!”

Rising to your feet, the three of you begin booking it down the giant airport interior when suddenly some strange red and blue blur swings past the large glass windows on your left. Then it begins hastily crawling across the see through exterior. Not having a real moment to press the matter, you keep hustling across the tiled flooring, just a few steps behind Bucky.

“What the hell is that?” Wonders Bucky aloud as you keep pace with him, you could honestly ask the same thing.

Sam turns to look, arms pumping fast as he tries his best to keep up with the two of you, “Everyone’s got a gimmick now.”

Letting out a breathy chuckle at his timely complaining, your legs pull you closer to the exit as you take notice of how the strange blur can swing from roof to roof.

Without warning, glass shatters from up above and a second later you hear the surprised grunt of Sam as this mystery person slams him into a wall. Immediately Bucky comes to an abrupt halt that causes you to almost smack right into him, instead do you swiftly shift to the side as he launches himself at the....whatever it is?

You stand back in curious uncertainty as Bucky throws his metal fist directly at the guy in spandex, though to yours and definitely Bucky’s great astonishment, this spider kid holds his fist like it’s nothing.

“Whoa!” Exclaims the excited childlike voice as he glances from the arm to Bucky’s wide eyed face, “You have a metal arm? That is awesome, dude.”

A hot second later your boot comes into contact with his stomach, the kid goes flying across the tiled flooring, tumbling across the floor before quickly finding his footing once more.

You stand defiantly in front of Bucky and a slowly recovering Sam as the spider kid holds his stomach, pointing a shaky finger in your direction as he yells out a weak, “You have the right to remain silent!” Just as you smirk, before the shling sound of your claws emits into the tense atmosphere.

You can’t see it, but his eyes are as big as saucers, heart pounding a mile a minute from within his young chest as you suddenly step to the side for Sam to fly forward and swiftly pick him up. You snicker as they push and shove one another in midair while Bucky approach’s your side when you retract your claws once more.

“You’re good with kids I see.” He teases with a playful smirk as you gently shove him.

“What can I say Barnes, I just got that natural motherly instinct.” You sass back before jogging once again, Bucky hot on your heels as the two of you race after Sam.

You watch as he throws the kid off of him before turning mid air and blasting at one of the steel metal beams, the spider kid swings, just narrowly missing getting knocked the fuck out. He swings from one beam to the next before dodging a poster sized hunk of airport wall that was thrown by Bucky, stopping for a quick breather on one of the overhead beams just up ahead.

Bucky slides into a metal pillar for quick cover as you follow close behind, soon the two of you are hidden behind the pillar as the kid shouts, “Hey, buddy, I think you lost this!” In reply, Bucky peaks around the corner just as the spider kid slingshots it heading directly for his face.

Not waiting a precious second longer, you grab the back of his collar just as the hunk of steel wall clashes violently into the pillar, and presumably where Bucky’s handsome face would have been if but a second too late.

He falls into your arms, knocking the two of you to the ground with a thud as his body just about crushes your torso, “Thanks.” Mumbles Bucky as he quickly pulls himself off of you before turning around and offering his hand.

Clasping it tightly, you let him pull you to your feet as you give him an irritated look, “I’m gonna gut that little arachnid.” You growl angrily as his eyes crinkle in amusement.

Crash!

Following the sounds of glass shattering and metal snapping in two, you and Bucky race around the pillar and across more of the airport as Sam gets his hand stuck to the side of a glass balcony banister.

The spider kid landing on the side of another pillar as you two stealthily wander closer, “Those wings carbon fiber?” He wonders as Sam gives him a dirty look.

“This stuff coming out of you?”

“That would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which, gotta say, that’s awesome, man.”

“I don’t know if you’ve been in a fight before but there’s usually not this much talking.” Sasses Sam in great irritation.

“All right, sorry. My bad.” Laughs the spider kid as he jumps from the pillar before swinging down heading for Sam, a moment later Bucky rushes past you and takes the full force of the blow. You watch as the three of them shatter the glass banister as both Sam and Bucky go flying downward onto the hard floor below.

That did not look graceful.

Stepping into the open you can’t do much but watch in annoyance as the little shit lands high up on a steel beam, “Guys, look, I’d love to keep this up, but I’ve only got one job here today and I gotta impress Mr. Stark, I’m really sorry.” Mutters the kid before reaching his arm out to web them again but is quickly interrupted when Redwing catches his webbing.

A second later he lets out a surprised yelp as he goes flying across the airport rafters before smacking into a steel beam and breaking glass as he makes a swift unwilling exit away from the three of you.

Smiling in deep satisfaction, your mind immediately remembers the two who are laying sprawled out across the grey stoned floor. Walking over to the broken and heavily bent metal beam of the destroyed railing, your ears quickly pick up the sound of your man, “You couldn’t have done that earlier.” Whines Bucky as you glance down at the two of them.

“I hate you.” Mutters a defeated Sam as you break out into a humored smile at their current states of dishevelment, Sam’s hands are stuck to his chest by the kids webbing while Bucky’s metal arm is held firmly against the ground.

Letting out a snort, they’re eyes instantly fly up to meet your smiling face, “You let that little shit kick your asses!” You cackle as Bucky rolls his eyes.

Sam gives you an annoyed glare, “Y/N you mind doing something productive and getting us the hell out of here?” He grumbles as you casually rest your hands on your hips.

“I don’t know? You two seem like a pair of big boys who can handle themselves.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky huffs at your sass, “Please Y/N.....I love you so much....like a lot.”

Biting your bottom lip you cave, “Yeah alright hot stuff I’ll be down.” The two of them watch patiently as you jump from the balcony before landing gracefully onto the floor below, you give them a wink as you move to crouch down next to Bucky’s left arm.

Summoning your claws to action, his eyes trail warily as you swiftly slice the webbing from the floor, a smirk upon your beautiful face as you look down at him, “Because you asked so nicely.” You muse before rising to your feet and freeing Sam from his sticky constraints.

Soon they’re set and ready to go, “Thanks Y/N.” Begrudgingly mutters Sam as you three run out the exit doors headed for the giant airport parking area.

In no time your little team of three reaches Steve and the rest of his crew, all of you running for the coming battle across the lot before a golden beam slams its might into the cement below, effectively blocking the seven of you from running any further.

The caped man known as Vision floats relatively unthreatening from above as be heeds a hefty warning, “Captain Rogers! I know you believe what you’re doing is right. But for the collective good...you must surrender.”

Though you’d like to believe that surrendering would prove an effective choice leading to an eventual freedom, that does not appear to be an option as the rest of Ironman’s team finds their places in his court. The six of them, verse the seven of you. Well now this is certainly going to be an interesting turn of events.

Watching them expectantly, you shift your gaze over to Bucky who keeps steely eyes glared at the foes ahead, “You know I think maybe in retrospect we should have just lived a nice quiet life in New Zealand. Instead of fighting off Steve’s work friends.” You mutter as he turns a humored glance your way.

He gives the tiniest of reassuring smiles, “I think you’re right.” Whispers Bucky before looking back at the other team, “Just don’t kill anyone alright.”

Now starting at a slow jog, you smirk, “Fine. But I’m going to beat that cats ass.”

Racing at a full sprint now, both sides interject with a hard clash as each person from their respective teams finds a target. Punches are thrown left and right as everyone does their best to beat one another into submission, or at least until they’re too exhausted to fight any longer.

After a couple minutes of tag teaming the panther around like a sack of angry potato’s, he successfully manages to punt your ass into one of the portable metal ladders placed randomly around the airport docks. Your mind goes fuzzy as you pick your body off of the blacktop, blinking wearily, your vision slowly rolls the fog away in your disoriented state.

You take a step to help Bucky but are rudely interrupted by your own body’s shaky gait pattern, you stumble forward, quickly catching yourself when Wanda blessedly throws the panther off of Bucky just as ten sharp claws reach for his exposed jugular.

Shaking the dancing butterflies out of your head, Bucky shuffles off the ground before racing protectively to your side, face a mask of worry as he clutches your shoulders, “Y/N are you with me?”

Giving him an almost drunken smile, you reach your hands up to squeeze his forearms reassuringly, “I am awesome thanks for asking.” You giggle before Scott says some nonsense about getting big in a lab once.

God this team is so weird.

Brows furrowing in confusion, you and Bucky jog over to Steve as he stands behind some wooden crates when out of nowhere Scott grows to the size of a small building. Giant arms and legs moving like a humongous lumbering tree come to life; your eyes large and full of great bewilderment at this abrupt change, and you thought the Vision was the weirdest thing here.

You take a cautious step back, lightly smacking Bucky on the arm to gain his attention as you continue to stare up at a giant Scott, “Bucky, please tell me you see that very large man too.”

“Uh, yeah.” He slowly replies, just as bewildered by the giant version of Scott as you are.

You nod, “Okay good. I was starting to think my brain hadn’t settled right.” You admit as he sends you a half worried frown.

“Guess that’s the signal.” Adds Steve while the three of you watch as War Machine tries to knock Scott down, immediately getting swatted in the direction of a plane before that spider kid helps to stop him.

Starting to walk backwards, you cough to gain the boys distracted attention, “Alright, let’s get the fuck out of here.” You urge as Steve nods before leading the way to the Quinjet that’s across a good portion of the airport parking strip.

Your jog is swiftly cut short when Vision manages to beam a huge watch tower, it crashes towards the ground when suddenly a great mass of red energy holds it in place before the building can hit the cement. Running faster now, the three of you race for the safety of the hanger, just barley dodging the heavy debris that comes crashing to the earth behind you.

Soon you’re met by Natasha who stands guarding the way to freedom, an apprehensive expression crossing her features, “You’re not gonna stop.”

“You know we can’t.” Answers Steve.

You raise a brow as she begins lifting her arm, “I’m gonna regret this.” She mutters unenthusiastically before shooting a blue bolt of electricity right into the body of the panther, your heads snap over to the sounds of his pained grunts.

“Thanks. I would have loved to do that.” You add before leading the way towards the Quinjet, Steve and Bucky close behind while Natasha shocks the panther once more.

——

The ride to Siberia was admittedly a somber one, no one really talked much for the duration of the lengthy trip except maybe a little at the beginning, along with some heartfelt words between you and Bucky as Steve piloted. Though a heavy dark atmosphere seemed to seep into the limited space as more time passed.

Soon enough, the Quinjet had reached its snowy destination in the mountainous cliffside edge of a previously unknown Hydra base. You stand on the edge of the opened aircraft as Steve stands by your side while Bucky finds a gun, “No weapons?” He wonders with a curious brow as you simply shrug. “I kind of got six retractable daggers in my fists already....so, I’ll be fine. They probably won’t.”

Steve hums in knowing answer as Bucky finally joins the two of you, and with that does everyone begin walking towards the opened metal doors stuck tightly within the protruding rock of the hidden base.

Humming in knowing answer, Bucky finally joins the two of you and with that does everyone begin walking towards the opened metal doors stuck tightly within the protruding rock of the hidden base.

“He can’t have been here more then a few hours.” You mutter while studying the snow covered tracks leading into the opened base door.

Bucky looks to you with a worried expression, “Long enough to wake them up.” And with that said, do the three of you enter.

——

The ride down the steel elevator is a somber and silent one, thankfully only lasting for a brief thirty seconds, soon the doors open and Steve lifts up the caged veil for the three of you to duck under.

Bucky takes the lead, gun drawn and ready as you walk silently behind him, preparing yourself if these other winter soldiers are awake and ready to kill. With nothing in close proximity or any sounds to be heard except for the movements of your companions, the three of you stealthily walk across the opening with your backs to the wall until you reach the short cement staircase.

Suddenly the door you came in from creaks and whines with the power of someone forcing the old rusted metal open, the three of you whip around in an alert flash. Bucky with his gun aimed at the mystery intruder from behind you and Steve with his shield held; blocking him, yourself, and Bucky’s lower half. Your claws obviously drawn.

“You ready?” Whispers Steve.

“Yeah.”

A moment later the two old grey doors are forced apart to reveal the glowing eyes of Ironman, Steve immediately lowers his guard as Tony dissembles his helmet back into his suit. Dark eyes appearing rather unthreatening as he nods to Steve, “You seem a little defensive.”

“It’s been a long day.” Mutters Steve solemnly.

Tony then looks up at Bucky, “At ease, Soldier. I’m not currently after you.” Before glancing down at you who’s guarding him, “And I don’t have a death wish to cross blades with you, I’m not here to brawl.”

“Then why are you here?” Asks Steve, voice with the tinge of uncertainty.

Tony shrugs while walking closer, “Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe.....Ross has no idea I’m here. I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”

Steve almost smirks, “Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork.” Tony scoffs at the irony of it all before Steve finally lets down his full guard, bringing his shield back to his side, “It’s good to see you, Tony.”

Tony nods, “You too, Cap.” Head back up to find Bucky’s, “Manchurian Candidate, you’re killing me. There’s a truce here. You can drop it...”

Steve gives the two of you a reassuring nod, Bucky lowers the gun as you begrudgingly retract your claws. Soon after the four of you begin wandering the base until you all start walking down a small hallway leading into the main room where the soldiers are being kept.

Where they brainwashed Bucky and help him in cryo. Where they held you in the ice.

“I got heat signatures.” Announces Tony warily.

“How many?”

“Uh, one.”

The four of you walk into the large cavernous steel laced room, it’s dark and emits an almost bluish hue with the exception of the six holding chambers that give off a dull golden glow helping to light up the area ever so slightly.

This place really brings back memories you’d rather have seen buried and gone forever. Of course you’d get one last look.

“If it’s any comfort,” Speaks a familiar voice you’d loath to hear again, “they died in their sleep.” The four of you wander cautiously closer, observing the dead winter soldiers with a single bullet wound through their heads, “Did you really think I wanted more of you?”

Bucky shares a nervous glance with you, “What the hell?”

“I’m grateful to them, though. They brought you here.” Immediately the lights are called to life and in the far center wall appears the man from Berlin, Steve throws his shield but the man sits comfortably behind bulletproof glass, he smiles knowingly, “Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that.” Asserts Tony while the four of you walk around the center area where they used to electrocute Bucky, and you when the manipulation and programming began to wear off.

“Oh, I’m sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you’d never know why you came.”

You scoff, “You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us all here?”

The man eyes you up as you approach the see through window, “I’ve thought about nothing else for a whole year.” He explains, “I studied what they did to you two, I followed the trail of dwindling breadcrumbs that you left behind.” Nods the man with a slight smile ghosting his lips as he studies your face, “Tampere. Brussels. Amsterdam. Venice. You’ve left quit the bloody trail in your wake, all those doctors and scientists who made you into Hydra’s best...”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.” You whisper sharply, eyes glaring pure daggers into his soul.

He almost smiles, face leaning in closer now, “That is a fair statement. Nonetheless, it all eventually led me to you, and I am impressed with the work of those doctors. You are indeed a marvel to witness,” He smirks, dark obsidian irises studying your face as he raises a brow, “How’s your head?”

“Fuck you.”

The dark eyed man chuckles as Steve intervenes, “You’re Sokovian. Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I’m here because I made a promise.” Admits the man, of course, why else would this psycho go to such lengths to kill the winter soldiers.

“You lost someone?”

The mans face falls, eyes darkening in remorse and anger, “I lost everyone. And so will you.” He turns and presses a button before looking back up at the four of you. A small television turns on nearby that immediately calls your attentions, “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That’s dead......Forever.”

You stand close to Bucky as Tony and Steve get closer to the glowing screen showing CCTV footage of a rural roadside at night.

“I know that road.” Points Tony in confusion as he looks up at the dark eyed man, “What is this?!” He shouts though nothing is given answer.

The video plays on as your heartbeat begins to rise, the bottom of the footage reads DEC. 16 1991, you know exactly what this is. And you’re terrified.

Soon a blurry car crashes into a telephone poll as the flash of a motorcycle rips by out of frame, soon it approaches once again, the rider parking it behind the damaged vehicle as he moves to the drivers side. A star on his left arm that flashes strangely in the light of the lamppost above; Tony’s face shifts to fear, anxiety, and anger in a multitude of seconds as the driver is pulled from his seat.

Soon the dark haired man slams his metal fist into the face of the helpless driver, ending his life right then and there. Deceased now, face bruised and bloody, the Winter Soldier drags the body back to the drivers seat before placing him there like he died from the impact of the crash.

Your eyes flicker towards the cement floor of the abandoned Hydra base as the video plays on, you know what happens next, and keep yourself from watching as the Winter Soldier kills Tony Starks mother before walking around the vehicle and putting a bullet into the security camera.

The film goes dark.

Immediately Tony tears his eyes away from the blacked screen and takes a threatening step towards Bucky, Steve places a hand on his arm as you place yourself between Stark and Bucky. Who’s absolutely hating himself right now.

“No, Tony.”

Tony stops and purses his lips at the ground, face shifting from frustration, pain, and anger as he turns to lock eyes with Steve, “Did you know?” He whispers softly, dreading the answer.

Steve pauses for a moment, “I didn’t know it was him.”

Tony’s face darkens with rage as he tightens his grip on Steve’s arm, “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. Did you know?”

Tony awaits the inevitable as Steve gives him the honest answer, “Yes.” Tony reals back in shock, face flashing with disappointment and growing fury as he slowly nods, gathering his spinning thoughts at this heavy bout of deeply personal information.

A second later an iron fist flies up to send Steve sprawling across the cement flooring, instantly Bucky draws his gun but is quickly disabled when Tony shoots it out of his hands. You step into action but are rudely thrusted back by the force of a heated blast of energy that sends you crashing into a sleeping chambers metal side.

Your head cracks against the steel, leaving you gasping for breath on the hard cold ground as Bucky and Tony clash fists, Steve soon joining them as they brawl. Goddamn that hurt, fuck I can’t see straight, you mutter to yourself as a wet sticky substance slithers down the side of your neck as you pull yourself to a seated position.

Hands against the floor, the world feels like it’s swaying on a rocker as your visual field darts with blurry black dots; a small dark splotch patters to the floor as you stare at it in confusion. Balance somewhat stabilizing, you reach over to touch it, blood smears across the grey floor as you realize how heavy a hit you just took.

Good thing you heal quickly, or you might have just died.

Crash! Your head snaps up to witness as one of the holding chambers top portion falls to the ground in a massive heap of dust and debris, then out of nowhere Bucky races to your side, hands instantly lifting you to your feet, face dirt smudged and filled with uncertainty, “Y/N we gotta leave....oh fuck you’re bleeding. Come on, come on....come back to me please. You’re alright....you’re okay.....can you see straight?” He rambles in worry.

Pulling his hands from your irritated face, you shake your head to rid the ringing in your ears, “I’m fine, Buck. Let’s go before he kills one of us.” You urge.

The two of you make haste as you struggle your way up to the opened giant port hole, jumping from steel caged banister to the next on your way out to freedom as Steve fights to keep Tony from attacking either of you from down below.

Once Bucky reaches the edge where he’s able to see snow, you right behind him, a small missile from Tony’s suit crashes into the giant doors hinge. Causing you and Bucky to fall backwards into separate steel landing pads. Out of breath from the force of impact, you watch helplessly as Tony flies up to greet Bucky.

In any way but friendly. They clash and punch at each other until Tony gains the upper hand by wrapping an arm around Bucky’s throat, you stumble to your feet as Bucky quickly forces himself out and soon they both go tumbling downwards.

“Bucky!” You shout desperately, terrified that his landing could have cost him his life, fortunately when you scout over the edge, he’s laying on his side. In pain but alive.

Struggling to his feet he gives you a nod of acknowledgment before slipping out of view, almost immediately you hear the sounds of a struggle from the ground floor and with that do you jump downwards from landing pad to landing pad on your way to the bottom.

Boots smacking hard against the cement floor, you follow the pained grunts of the three men as they fight each other with everything that they have. Soon you turn a corner and are welcomed to sunlight and snowy mountains in the far distance from the old bases giant missile launcher air shaft.

By now Steve and Bucky are tag teaming Tony as the Ironman does his best to fight them off at once. Soon he gets a solid blast to Steve’s shield that sends him into the far wall, leaving him out of breath. Bucky takes a crack to the head that sends him to the floor. So much for holding their ground.

When Tony raises his arm for the final blow against Bucky, you’re right behind him; shoving his weaponized arm towards the opened cement pillars, the blast misses Bucky as it breaks a small part in the ceiling. Granted, you could end this all here and now by sinking your claws through Tony’s suit and ending the Stark line, but that would be an awful way to end things. And you’re done with the killing, even if he wants to kill Bucky.

Hydra won’t be the end to the last Stark. Not if you can help it.

Gripping onto his left arm and right shoulder, the Ironman quickly elbows you in the jugular; immediately a choked type of intense pain fills your body as the hit causes you to gasp and sputter while falling to your knees. Tears whell up in your eyes from the natural reaction as your hands rub frantically around your exposed skin.

Fuck that hurt like a bitch.

Unknowingly to you, Tony would have shot you again if not for Bucky who immediately gains the Ironman’s attention once more. Shoving him against the wall as his metal hand reaches to crush Tony’s suit reactor. They struggle against the strength of one another before a blinding light of orange sparks against Bucky, hitting the far wall while Bucky falls to the ground.

Throat healed, your eyes are wide in shock at the sight of Bucky, his metal arm is gone, the metal and wires still glowing a fiery orange and red from the heat of Tony’s blaster as a second later, Tony uses a lesser blast to knock Bucky forwards and across the floor he tumbles.

Steve is on Tony in an instant, the two of them beginning an intense battle of hand to hand combat while you crawl over to a bleeding Bucky who’s laying on his back, eyes closed though his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

Reaching his face, you shuffle to sit by his right arm, a frown adorning your features at the dark crimson that’s smudged against his sweaty face. Your hands shake with adrenaline as you touch the side of his stubbled cheek, “Buck, come back to me......Please.” You rasp weakly in between the strained grunts from Steve and Tony.

Ignoring them, you move a piece of blood soaked hair from Bucky’s face, tears threatening to spill if he doesn’t move, “Come on....open your damn eyes you beautiful bastard...” You urge, rubbing a comforting thumb against his jaw, “If you leave me here with these idiots I’ll fucking cut you...got it....” Your voice a shaky whisper, “..Bucky, please wake up...”

You give him a dismal look as he says nothing for a moment until his ocean blues open as you reveal the tiniest of relieved grins, “I’m not going anywhere.” He mumbles out, “Not without you.”

You smile weakly, “Good.” Suddenly you hear a crash like a shattering sound of glass and breaking metal, eyes darting upward, you instinctively unsheathe your right claws ready to protect Bucky with your life only to pause once you realize they stopped fighting.

Tony’s laying on his side as Steve sits nearby breathing just as heavily, faces both noticeable bloody. Tony throws him a wicked glare as Steve looks down in reluctant shame, soon he pulls himself to his feet, shield in one hand as he glances from Tony to the cold climate of Siberia.

Taking this as your cue, you look back down at Bucky, “Time to get the fuck out of here.” Before moving to help him to his feet, he clings onto your shoulder as you wrap an arm around his waist. He’s awkward and off centered from the recent loss of his appendage, but does what he can to keep upright with your aid.

Steve limps towards the two of you, shield still in hand as he slowly follows until Tony speaks, “That shield doesn’t belong to you.” He bitterly mutters, “You don’t deserve it. My father made that shield!” Steve pauses for a moment, nodding in understanding before dropping the shield onto the hard ground with a loud clang.

Coming to your aid to help Bucky up the ladder.

——

Not long after the intensive personal battle between Steve and Tony, plus the revelation that Bucky was the one this whole time who actually killed Tony’s parents and Steve knew about it. T’Challa soon found the three of you bloodied and exhausted in the snow.

Steve left the jet for Tony, while the prince of Wakanda, with a new perspective on the situation, allowed the three of you to join him in his own jet, while Baron Zemo sat silently in the corner. Handcuffed and fuming.

A jet ride later after dropping Zemo in a secured facility to rot for his crimes, T’Challa had brought you all into his home willingly. Soon his expert doctors had gotten things ready to place Bucky back under until they could figure out how to free his troubled mind of all the shit Hydra had forced in there.

Your eyes are trained on Bucky’s vitals when you sense him staring at you, god you feel so nervous for some reason. Blinking slowly, you draw your wandering attention over to him, “Y/N.” He mutters softly with the most adorable of smiles to bless his handsome face.

You give him a faint grin back, “Bucky.”

He slightly frowns at your disheartened expression, “Come here.” He beckons with a small wave of his hand that’s bound with an IV, “Please.”

Breathing slow, your body feels like it’s shaking with adrenaline, he can sense how anxious you feel. Walking closer now, Bucky reaches out his hand for you to take, “I won’t be gone forever, okay. Just for a little bit.”

Squeezing his hand, you reveal a weak half smile, “I know Buck, it just feels like they’re taking you away from me all over again. And I won’t know for how long.”

He looks down at your intertwined fingers, eyes trailing over the dark faded 00X13 permanently tattooed to your left wrist, “Yeah....I’m sorry it’s just.” He purses his lips together in thought, brows furrowing as his eyes catch yours, “I can’t trust my own mind. So, until they find out how to get this stuff out of my head....I think going under is the best thing. For everybody.”

Nodding, you frown, “I know, I don’t care how long they take to heal you alright. I’ll wait forever if I have to, I promise.”

Bucky reveals a beautiful smile of hope and pure love for you, one that is greatly returned, “What did I do to deserve you?” He whispers.

Smiling, you reply, “Get thrown around by the universe a bit first.” You chuckle lightly as your face slowly falls again, “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you wake up alright. Then I can really show you how much of this you really deserve.” Bucky laughs as you throw him a suggestive wink.

Suddenly Steve wanders into the room, drawing the both of yours distracted attention as he smiles half awkwardly, “You two gonna be alright?” He asks, eyes trailing from you to his best friend, genuinely happy that Bucky has found love in this messy world.

Bucky squeezes your hand as he gives Steve a reassuring nod, “Yeah. I think so.” He replies, blue eyes turning to you.

“I’ve been alone most of my life already, what’s another however long?” You shrug with a sad smile, eyes focused on Bucky, “I can handle it.”

He smiles back, “I know you can.”

“Mr. Barnes, are you ready?” States one of the Wakandian doctors, “The chamber is prepared.”

He nods, “Yeah. I’m ready.”

Soon Bucky slips off of the metal table and walks over to the glass Cryo chamber, pausing a moment to turn around and face you. He looks conflicted at the ground before bringing his gaze back up to you, a second later he steps forward to gently touch his hand against your cheek before pressing his lips to yours.

Steve and the rest of the doctors avert their gaze while Bucky holds you close, lips taking all they can get as he mentally memorizes everything about you. From your soft lips flush against his, to the curves and feel of your skin against his palm that he’s touched a thousand times before.

He wants so badly to stay with you and live in peace by your side, but he’s too afraid of his own mind and absolutely terrified of ever being forced to hurt you again. He’s lucky you were able to get past what he did to you in Berlin when Zemo was in control, but of course you are, you love him more then you’ve ever loved anyone. It wasn’t his fault, and you know that.

Breaking from the kiss, Bucky presses his forehead against yours as his thumb rubs reassuringly along your cheek. “Ya lyublyu vas.” Whispers your lover in Russian before tasting you one last time, slowly pulling away, he nods before turning to walk into the chamber.

He’s strapped in and then the long glass door ascends to close him in, a moment later you watch as he closes his eyes before the chamber is activated. Ice dances up the walls while below freezing fog seeps into the container, sending Bucky into a deep sleep for however long it takes.

Biting your bottom lip, you hold back the annoying lump forming in the back of your throat as Steve sets a hand on your shoulder, “He’s safe here. Don’t worry Y/N, he’ll be with us soon enough.”

You nod, eyes never leaving Bucky’s as you study his sleeping face behind the frosted glass, “I know, Steve. It’s just waiting is the hard part.”

-

Tagged:  @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94​  @iamasimpingh0e

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch10

Doctor’s Visit

Alright I am back with another chapter and with this I bring something special. I want all of you to help me decide what our lovely Mari will be having so place your votes in the poll. 

LINK REMOVED

Thank you to everyone who voted I’ll be using the results gathered and I hope everyone’s happy with what the final tally was.

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“Damian’s not home right?” Tim asked, making his way into the Batcave where all the other bats sans Damian were sitting around the computer.

“No, tomorrow’s pixies first appointment with that new doctor so he decided to stay the night to give her moral support since she’s never been to a gyno before.” Jason said looking up from the files he was reading over, “honestly from what I’ve heard about what happens during those exams I don’t blame her for wanting a little support before going.”

“It’s all routine and can’t be any worse than the baby-making process.” Dick hummed typing away on the computer.

“I think that’s enough talk about that; why did you want to know Tim?” Bruce asked looking over at his second youngest.

“I found more info on Marinette thought I’d share with you all while Damian wasn’t here to stop me or compromise the data,” he explained walking over to the bat computer connecting his laptop to it.

The other men all sat silently around waiting for Tim to begin his presentation as he sorted through different encrypted files before bringing up a few pictures. “To begin her original name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her parents were bakers back in France, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng,” Tim said pointing them out.

“Marinette told me they essentially kicked her out,” Bruce said crossing his arms, “They believed the words of some liar and threw her out. She lived with a friend her last year in Paris before moving here.”

“Wait, hold on,” Dick said turning to Bruce, “Her parents kicked her out when she was still a minor? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Yes, and they knew that, she mentioned that when she told her grandmother she came and took custody from her parents, who seemed more than happy to hand it over, and let her stay to finish out that school year with a friend then moved here to finish out her schooling.” Bruce nodded.

“Yeah that all tracks to what I found,” Tim nodded, showing them documents next, “I have here the transfer of custody, her transcript for moving here, as well as the adoption papers for Ivy and Harley. I also went ahead and started running some background checks on the people still in her phone.” he added typing away.

“Anyone, we should be worried about?” Jason asked leaning back in his seat content to just watching Tim work, “She told me a bit about one of her friends’ guy seemed a bit sketch when he was a Paris hero though now I think he’s meh but never got a name from her.”

“You said he was one of the heroes?” Tim asked looking over at Jason.

“Yeah, she said he gave up his miraculous after the fight because his dad was the villain and he didn’t think Ladybug would want anything to do with him if she found out who he was so he bit the bullet and gave it up. He left Paris shortly after to live with his aunt.” Jason said looking around at the others.

“If the villain were outed then it’d be easy to find out who his son was,” Tim said, turning back to the computer the clicking of keys filling the Batcave as he searched through multiple French websites. The other three just watched as screen after screen flew by before settling on a trashy tabloid-like website.

“I don’t think this is what could be considered a credible source Timmy,” Dick winced looking over all the clickbait titles and the like to dislike ratio on the articles.

“No, but it does have quite a bit on the Paris heroes,” Tim said scrolling through to articles that had more likes and seemed of better quality, “here we go, Hawkmoth Defeated: How a Recluse Held Paris Hostage.”

The four men all leaned forward reading through the article that detailed the final battle between Hawkmoth and the Paris Heroes with a written description of what happened as well as a video that seemed to have been taken from a mix of sources and spliced together. The article detailed what Hawkmoth had been doing for three years and in the end, revealed him and his accomplice to be Gabriel Agrest and his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur.

“So we know that Gabriel Agrest was the big bad so who was his kid?” Jason asked as Tim typed away.

“Adrien Agrest, teen model for the Agrest Fashion Label. Looks like after his dad got taken down he had to go through months of interrogations and court hearings just to prove his innocence. His mother was found dead in the Agrest Mansion and with no one else it looks like his aunt took him in once he was cleared.” Tim said reading through the files he dug up.

“That would mean he probably gave his miraculous to Pixie right after he was cleared. If he was going to do something sketch he’d just hold onto it.” Jason said.

“He probably was so messed up after the battle he didn’t want any connection to the miraculous I mean his father turned evil because of them.” Dick hummed crossing his arms.

The four fell silent as they took in the information they had received, “Well Tim you got anything on that liar?” Jason asked, tilting his head.

“This whole blog is about that liar.” Tim said motioning to the tabloid, “I’ll email you guys the link and read it at your own pace there is years of garbage on here.”

“Then with that, I think we should all be heading out. We'll go over more of what Tim found later for now we should get to work,” Bruce said, getting to his feet and moving to change into his costume.

The other three nodded as Tim packed up his laptop and stored it away before they all got dressed and took their way out of the cave to begin their nightly rounds.

~.~.~.~

“So what do you think they found?” Marinette asked cuddled up to Damian's side on her bed with the hyenas crowded around them on either side resting their heads over their laps, “Chloe didn’t exactly hold back on mentioning certain names.”

“I would be surprised if Drake didn’t have an entire dossier on all your friends.” Damian said rubbing Marinette’s back, “You know he probably took all your contact info right?”

“Yeah oh well,” she shrugged turning to bury her face into his neck, “They were bound to find out eventually, might as well let some of the greatest detectives around have some fun piecing my life together.”

Damian hummed closing his eyes as he relaxed back into the plush pillows covering Marinette’s bed, “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked.

“A little,” she sighed tightening her grip on his shirt, “Mum told me what to expect and said she’d sit in the room with me if I wanted her to, you can’t exactly join me since we can’t have this whole thing getting out.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you when you get home don’t worry,” he said kissing her forehead, “now try to get some sleep you barely got any at the manor.”

Marinette nodded letting out a deep sigh as she shifted around to get comfortable between Damian and the hyenas. Eventually, she settled down and dozed off into a dreamless sleep with Damian rubbing her back and the familiar weight of Bud’s head on her hip.

Damian stayed up for a bit longer listening to the quiet sounds around and thinking over what to do for the next day. He eventually made his way into a dreamless sleep as well a bit after one AM when he finally managed to shut his mind off.

~.~.~.~

“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy called from the kitchen as she looked through her back to make sure she had everything.

“Almost,” Marinette said, coming out in a comfortable knit sweater and skinny jeans, “I was looking for my purse. I think Lou took it,” she said, looking around in the usual spots for her bag.

“I’ll keep your wallet and Tiki in my bag we have to get going,” Ivy said, grabbing Marinette’s wallet off the counter and stowing it in her bag as Tiki flew over and settled into the bag as well giving Ivy a nod to close the bag once she was comfortable.

Marinette nodded and went back to her room grabbing her phone quickly checking it before putting it away in her pocket and leaned down kissing Damian’s cheek as he groaned slowly blinking his eyes open. “I’m leaving I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.”

“Okay habibti call me if you need me.” he yawned reaching up and pulled her down for a kiss, “good luck with your appointment I’ll see you after.”

Marinette nodded kissing him again as Ivy shouted for Marinette that they were leaving. She gave Damian another quick peck on the lips before pulling back and ran out to meet Ivy at the door. “Had to get my phone.” she smiled stepping out of the apartment and waited as Ivy locked up and ushered down to the cab waiting outside.

“Now remember Marigold just relax and everything will go smoothly, it will be uncomfortable but it won’t hurt okay.” Ivy said, settling into the cab beside Marinette and rubbing her back, “I can sit inside the room with you if need me to.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Marinette said, taking a few calming breaths as they made their way to the doctor’s office. Once they arrived Marinette was starting to look a little green as they went through the check-in process and filled out their info.

Waiting for her name to be called felt like an eternity and her stomach was twisting into knots as she watched other women come and go through the office. Marinette sat there twisting her fingers in her sweater and took slow deep breaths trying to calm herself when the door opened, “Marinette?” a nurse called.

Marinette shot up her face going from pale to a deep red as she made her way to the nurse. The nurse smiled and ushered her inside and went about getting her blood pressure, “Hmm little elevated but I think it could just be your nerves.” the nurse smiled, and her height and weight.

“Alright girly so here’s your room I’m going to need you to completely strip down underwear and all then put this paper gown on opening to the front and here’s a privacy blanket for your legs.” the nurse said motioning to the items on the bed, “the doctor will be in here shortly.”

Marinette nodded as the nurse closed the door leaving her alone, “It’s just a check-up.” Marinette mumbled undressing and taking her time to carefully fold her clothes and set them on the table in the corner of the room. She put on the provided gown and settled on the table keeping her phone clenched tightly in her hand as she waited for the doctor to arrive.

It felt like an eternity when there was a knock at the door and the doctor stepped in, a petite redhead with a smattering of freckles covering her pale face, “Hello Miss Marinette I’m Doctor Amelia.” she smiled coming over to shake Marinette’s hand, “I see you’re here for a wellness exam and you’re expecting.”

“Uh yes,” Marinette coughed her voice, cracking a bit from her nerves, “I uh just found out a few weeks ago.” she blushed, gripping the paper blanket covering her legs.

Doctor Amelia nodded looking over the file, “This is your first-ever wellness exam yes?” she asked, taking a seat.

Marinette nodded keeping her head bowed trying to not let her nerves take over her.

“Okay sweetie we’ll go at your pace so just relax okay.” Doctor Amelia smiled setting the file aside and grabbed her stethoscope.

~.~.~.~

The entire exam didn’t take more than five minutes before the doctor was cleaning up and stepping out to give Marinette some privacy to redress. Marinette wasted no time pulling her clothes back on and sending Damian a text saying, ‘Making this baby was less violating than that.’ before putting her phone in her pocket as there was another knock, “Miss Marinette if you're ready you can go to the front and schedule the next appointment.” Doctor Amelia said through the door.

Marinette walked over opening the door her face still a bit flushed, “Okay uh when should I come back next?” she asked.

“I think in a month should be enough time and we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then.” she smiled, “Your moms waiting for you upfront, and here’s the card to one of my nurses if you have any questions feel free to call her okay.”

“Thank you.” Marinette nodded, taking the card and quickly went to the front to meet back up with Ivy and schedule the next appointment and made their way out to walk back home.

“I think we should pick up some breakfast.” Ivy smiled putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as they walked. “There’s a nice little bakery around the corner should we pick up something from there?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Marinette nodded following Ivy down to the bakery and got in line looking over the different pastries they had for sale. Between the two of them, they picked out an array of sweet and savory options with Marinette making sure to pick out some vegetarian options for Damian. Soon they were walking out with two large bags and were walking down the street back to their home.

Upon entering both had to hold their bags of treats high out the reach of Bud and Lou trying hard to reach the goodies hidden away. Harley quickly came over pulling them back by their collars so the two could set the bags down in the kitchen.

Damian was settled at the table and got up coming over to help them unpack as Harley got some coffee and tea going as they all settled down to enjoy a bit of a late breakfast. Marinette ate her croissants and fruit danish taking small bites so as not to upset her stomach any further. The small group spoke of anything and everything as they enjoyed their meal. Harley taking the time to pick out the meat from her sandwich to give to the two hyenas and Damian holding a small conversation with Tiki as she munched on the cookies Marinette picked out.

“So when are you going back?” Harley asked looking over at Marinette as she bit into her bagel.

“In a month, the doctor said we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then,” Marinette said, finishing off her danish, “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You’ll be fine Marigold we’re here for you every step.” Ivy smiled ruffling her hair, “Now I think you should go lay down, maybe settle your stomach and your nerves. You were looking a bit green and tense after your appointment.”

Marinette nodded, finishing her tea and croissant before heading back to her room to lay down. Damian finished off his breakfast quickly and excused himself before following Marinette leaving the two sirens and the small goddess at the table.

“At least he’s good for our little Mari.” Harley hummed sipping her coffee, “So long as he makes her happy he can stick around I guess but not too sure I forgive him for knocking our baby up.”

“Oh, now you don’t like him?” Ivy chuckled, raising her eyebrow at her.

“Oh, I adore the kid but you know one of us has to give him the shovel talk eventually.” Harley chuckled getting up to clean the dishes and put the leftovers away.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich @solangelo252 @icerosecrystal @heinrode @Junarvion

@babylovebug18 @animegirlweeb @corporeal-terrestrial

[sckyie]

song: streetcar by daniel caesar

word count: 2.6k

genre + warnings: angst to fluff; reminiscing in past heartbreak, breakdowns, timeskips, swearing, someone gets slapped

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: here's part 2 to driver's license,, i hope this was okay >~< i had to include a new song to the mix (its going into the playlist) soooo enjoy :) also my ratio for angst to fluff is TERRIBLE im sorry

Ever since you had confessed your feelings to your best friend, you had became so distant from everyone. Knowing you might've ruined one of the best friendships shook you. Lately you'd been driving around past curfew just to keep your mind off him. Passing all the street lights just felt like you were driving down memories. 

That flickering light at the corner where Oikawa had helped you after crashing your bike into a pole. Or that bright cool light by the park where you, Iwa, and Oikawa first started playing volleyball. Or that one littered with stickers where you told both the boys that they better remember you when they were famous. 

Apathy overcame your entire being. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, who knew heartbreak could have this effect on a person? It was hard going to school, avoiding Oikawa in every hall, dodging Iwaizumi on your way out, and even trying to ignore Kasumi was too much. It hurt like hell but you didn't want to know what Oikawa had to say. More so, you didn't want to hear what he was going to say, you knew what he'd tell you.

Two months until graduation.

It had been a over a month since that confession. The bright girl everyone used to know dulled out. No one knew why nor how it happened. It only stung between you and the boy you knew you could never love. Oikawa and Kasumi remained together despite the lingering thought of those words you said to him. 

"I- You- Ugh! Just go away, I don't want to see you!" The crack in your voice shook those hidden feelings within you.

"Why not!" Oikawa held onto your forearm, restricting you from running away.

"Because I fucking loved you idiot!" You screamed as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Oikawa froze at your words, unable to process them.

"You...loved me?" He asked.

"I still fucking love you! God, I hate you- I just- Let go!" You shoved him away from you. "I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I'm never speaking to you again."

Yet, you never spoke to him regardless. The sudden break between you two effected Iwaizumi as well. Although he had no part in the situation, he was torn who's side to take. He knew your secret but he couldn't betray both his best friends. Seeing you two spilt was like watching glass break. It's sudden, scattered, irreplaceable but if you tried to fix it, you could cut yourself or ruin the glass even more.

Oikawa took your last words as your goodbye. What was worse was that, he couldn't bring himself to find the right words to say to you. How could his best friend love him and never tell him? He never did end up telling Kasumi that he loved her. He began to question his feelings about her and well, you. 

One more month until graduation.

"Hey Y/n, are you going to the third year dance?" Hanamaki taps your shoulder as you doodle on your notes. You shook your head, knowing well enough how you'd have to see Oikawa and Kasumi together. "Come on, we're all going."

"No thanks," You smiled. A sudden ache in your chest hit you as you looked back at your notes. "I don't like dances."

"Liar," Matsukawa joins into the conversation. "What happened to you?"

"Hm?" You looked up, tilting your head at him.

"Just come along, we'll drive," He suggests. "You don't need a date. Just tag along with he boys and Kasumi."

"Again no thanks," You turned him down. "I'm not on good terms with Oikawa right now. I don't want to see him."

"Well, then let's all four go together then. Me, you, Mattsun, and Iwa," Makki says. "We lowkey miss having you around."

"Yeah, come on, we don't have to go with them," Matsukawa agreed.

"Promise we won't hang around them?" You ask solemnly. They nod at you, prompting you to let out a long sigh. "Fine. I don't have a dress, do you guys want to come with to find one?" 

Two weeks until graduation.

You stood in line with the three boys to get inside the ballroom for the dance. You carefully adjusted Matsukawa's corsage that matched your dress. Kasumi and Oikawa had came later, waiting farther back in line. He rests his hand on her waist as he examined the people in line when he spots you. This was the first time in forever since he could see you clearly. He had only caught glimpses of you through the halls, never seeing your face.

Was that the reason the guys didn't want to ride with him? For you? It hit a bit knowing they chose you over him but he knew how you haven't hung out with anyone lately. Always avoiding people, never trying to talk to anyone. 

Inside the ballroom, you and the boys sat together at your assigned table. The songs seemed redundant, leaving you four to occasionally get up to dance. It wasn't until a slow song that caught your attention. You had your head leaning against Iwaizumi's shoulder when you spotted Oikawa and Kasumi walking center stage.

"I'm gonna go outside for some fresh air," You say, standing up. You adjusted your dress before walking away to the outside patio. The muffled sound of the slow song was heard as you rested your arms on the railing. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of the streets nearby. It was hard to drown out the feelings of Oikawa after seeing him with Kasumi. You feel the pain well up, trying your best to resist crying.

You open your eyes as you feel something being placed on your shoulders. "You'll get sick out here," Iwaizumi says, standing beside you. "You're thinking of him aren't you?"

"Can we not talk about him?" You breathed, tears slowly rolling down your face. "I just don't want to think about how bad I fucked up."

"Well," Iwaizumi looked down at the ground. "Will you dance with me?" You turned to see him holding out his hand for you. Taking his offer, Iwa holds you close as the music played. He let you cry in his arms, knowing well enough that you needed this. Having held all your pain behind driving, you couldn't show how much you were in pain. 

"Thank you Iwa," You sniffled into his chest. 

"I'm always here for you," He smiled. "You're like a little sister to me...It pains me to see you all dull and hurt...When Makki asked you to come out with us, I didn't expect you to agree but I'm glad you did." 

"Can I tell you something?" You panted for air through your tears.

Oikawa held Kasumi close, carefully swaying back and forth together. With her head resting on his chest, he was able to see through the patio window. He spots you and Iwaizumi dancing but for some reason it stung in his chest to see that. Why is he hurt? He's with Kasumi and he loves her, right?

Graduation day.

A group of cheers goes around the ceremony as your final day in high school is finally over. You greet your old classmates one more time, saving your close friends for last. For some reason, all the pain you previously carried had faded away. You approach the gate to meet with your friends for the last time before you go off your separate paths. Makki and Mattsun agreed to text you more to keep up with each other.

Iwaizumi had hugged you once last time, telling you to do your best. You smiled for the first time in a while. It was strange but Iwa was glad to see you starting to move on. You and him agreed to update each other on your mental healths and to hang out whenever you'd visit. Then it was the one you dreaded.

Saying goodbye to Oikawa, it'll be the last time you'll see him. You waited patiently for him as he was caught up by some fans and Kasumi. When he did manage to leave the underclassmen, he spotted you waiting. "Hey babe, can you go on ahead? I want to talk to Y/n," He says to his girlfriend. She nods happily, walking by you as she left. 

"Hey," He stops a few feet away from you, scared to step any closer.

"Hi," You said. "I have a few words for you." You let out a small chuckle, leading him to believe it was something good.

"Good or bad?" He laughed.

"Well," You started. "I just wanted to say goodbye for the last time...It was nice being your friend and I know how rough it turned out in the end...I'm sorry for not telling you before how I felt. I just thought I wasn't good enough for you and that you'd fall for someone else. Kasumi is a great girl and you two are amazing together...I really wish you guys the best...I know you'll do outstanding in volleyball like the king you are. You better not forget us when you're famous..Listen, I have to go before I'm late, so this is...it...Goodbye Tooru." You wiped a tear from your cheek, smiling at him. You quickly turned around, disappearing into the city. 

"Wait! Y/n!" He rushes after you, only to get lost in the crowd of third years saying their goodbyes. Oikawa felt tears well up in his eyes as he desperately looked around for you. "You didn't let me say..." He whispered to himself.

A week later, Oikawa and Iwaizumi join each other to lunch at your favorite restaurant. Iwa scrolls on his phone waiting for the food while Oikawa looked at the booth you two would always get. "Hey Iwa-chan?" He asks. "Do you know where Y/n decided to go after graduation?" Iwaizumi stopped scrolling to think back at the third year dance.

"Can I tell you something?" You panted for air through your tears.

"Anything," Iwa replied.

"I'm moving away from Miyagi immediately after graduation," You sniffled. "Remember when we were kids and we said we wanted to live in Tokyo or Kyoto?"

"Y-yeah," He was a little shaken up hearing that you'll be leaving so soon. 

"My uncle just moved to Kyoto and he offer me a room there...and I said yes," You started to trace circles on his back. "It's by that college I wanted to go to and they have good jobs there and-"

"You don't have to explain yourself. You'll do amazing out there," Iwa chuckled. "Just promise you'll visit sometime?" He knew how much you needed to be away from Miyagi. Although it pained him, he knew it was only for the best.

"No," Iwa lied. "I haven't seen her. She hasn't texted in a while.

Three months after graduation.

You got into a cab on your way to your new job at a café. You stared out the window, admiring the new city you live in. Learning to adjust and work around the city was tough. The feeling of calling Kyoto home was strange, knowing that it wasn't. 

Ever since you had said goodbye to Oikawa, things in his life changed. He believed losing you wasn't fair, not knowing where you'd gone always haunted him. He had broken up with Kasumi over the guilt held over his head. Always thinking about you when he was with her wasn't right. With you being gone, his only priority became volleyball. 

You however, had let go of those old feelings you held onto. That last goodbye satisfied you, letting you sleep at night and allowed you to love yourself more. You've grown so much from dull slump you were stuck in for weeks. Though living in a different environment made it feel like you weren't even there.

Oikawa roamed the streets slowly approaching different shops along the sidewalk. He had some free time before the practice match he had, so it wouldn't hurt to explore, right?

That's when it happened.

You closed the door to your cab, turning towards the café's direction. Your eyes lock onto a set of familiar pupils. Frozen in time, the two of you never exchanged a word yet, suddenly a rush of emotions filled you both.

Pain, anger, fear, regret, almost everything you felt in the past came back to you seeing him. Standing before you, the man you once loved. The man you might still love.

You snapped out of your thoughts, walking towards him, stopping a few feet away from him. "Y/n what-" You raised your hand, harshly impacting Oikawa's cheek. His hand flies up to his face, holding the spot you smacked.

"You seriously broke up with Kasumi for me?" You growled. "Y-you're an idiot y'know? She was good to you too! Also ignoring Iwa for volleyball? I told you not to-"

"You kept track of me?" He whispered, a slight smile creeping on his face.

"W-Well obviously! I ask Iwa about you from time to time," You muttered. You looked up to Oikawa and saw him grin down at you.

Before you could say anything else, Oikawa puts his two hands on the sides of your cheeks. He pulls your face close to his, crashing his lips against yours. You tense at the action, gripping his wrists. He doesn't pull away until you settle into the kiss.

Your hands melt away from his wrists and reach for his torso. Your lips moved together in sync, almost as if it were a familiar feeling. He pulls away from you, pressing his forehead against yours. "You never let me say my goodbye," Oikawa snickered. "You said goodbye to me then disappeared without a trace."

"Sorry," You blushed. His hands move to your waist, still holding you close to him.

"I wanted to tell you that..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you too. I'm sorry I'm so late in telling you and I'm sorry for being caught up with Kasumi. I didn't know what I was doing and I couldn't talk to you...I fucked up for not seeing how much you- well how much I loved you...I know this is all late and you probably don't want to hear any of this but-"

You tiptoed and kissed his nose, making him stop. "How'd you find out you loved me?" You looked at him curiously.

"I was driving down your street and all the old streets we'd walk through," He started. "It reminded me of you and then I saw that white streetcar. The one that is always parked by the laundromat? It made me realize how much you meant to me."

"Seriously? That old junk car?" You laughed.

"Hey, it reminded me of you okay, just seeing it whenever we hungout and passed it," Oikawa squeezed your hip, making you chuckle at him. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Your laughter ceases as you look up at him. "I had to learn how to drive on the highway on my own, jerk," You brought up.

"Is that a yes?" He smirked.

"...No...Maybe," You squinted your eyes at him. "You owe me ramen."

"Wait how'd you know how I've been these last few months?" Oikawa pulls away from your hold.

"Oh Iwa was the first to know I was moving, I asked him to check on you every now and then. I just wanted to make sure your pretty face doesn't do anything stupid. You did by the way, you did some stupid shit," You grinned. "Hey are you hungry? I can get you something from the café for free." You turned away from him, heading to your job.

"Hey you can't just insult me then leave, come here," He runs after you stopping you a few steps away from work. Oikawa plants a rough kiss on your lips before looking down at you. "The only stupid thing I did was not tell you I loved you sooner."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @d0llpie @elianetsantana @joy-laufeyson @kac-chowsballs

[connordavidscamera]

Christmas Confessions | Connor Brashier

A/n: this is absolute trash and I’m sorry, but sometimes you gotta put out the bad stuff to get to the good stuff. This is also for @wondershawns winter writing challenge, so I hope you enjoy it! My prompts were “old Christmas family photos” and “we’d make a cute couple.”

Summary: Christmas time brings up some feelings for these long time friends

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

***

Christmas vacation has always been a big thing in our family. It just became even bigger once the Brashier family started joining us. Which, while I like to say our moms are the reason for that – they are, for the most part – it’s really because Connor and I have been attached at the hip since we were in preschool. But it also helps that our moms became best friends too when Connor and I had our first play date. Then if we flashforward a couple more years, Sam and his family joined us too.

Yeah, Christmas vacation is quite an adventure, but it’s truly the greatest time to be surrounded by the people I love for two whole weeks. No responsibilities, just a fuck ton of cookies, egg nog, and Hallmark Christmas movies. The boys claim to hate the movies, but by the middle of the movie – every single time, without fail – they’re arguing over whether or not the main character should be with the big shot lawyer guy that she was supposedly getting engaged to at the start of the movie, or her old high school crush. (Sam votes lawyer, Connor and I say high school crush. But it’s funny how this is the argument every time and even though we’ve seen hundreds of these movies in our lifetime, Sam still votes for the big shot.)

“Kids! Look what I found!” Mrs. Brashier comes into the living room where the three of us are sprawled out on the floor arguing. We all turn to look at her and I furrow my brows at the scrapbook she’s holding.

“A scrapbook?”

“Yes, it has all kinds of pictures of the three of you from all the trips we’ve taken here. You should look through it. Take a trip down memory lane.” She hands the book to Connor, who in turn hands it to me since I’m in the middle. “There’s the cutest photo of you three in there from two years ago, when you’re all under the mistletoe.” She says before heading back to the dining room to sit with mine and Sam’s moms.

“Pause the movie,” I tell Sam. “I wanna look through it.” I reposition myself, taking my pillow off Connor’s back, where I was previously resting my head.

The first few photos are just of me and Connor, and a few with Dylan too, but Dylan hated being in front of the camera as a kid, so he was rarely in any photos with us. “Awe, look at little y/n missing her tooth,” Connor laughs.

“Mhm, that was the Christmas where I wouldn’t stop singing ‘All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.’”

“Oh, I remember. You were tone deaf,” he dead pans and I gasp, slapping his arm.

“Don’t be an ass! I was six!”

“I’m aware. You’re better now.”

“Well, only a little,” Sam says.

“You both suck! I’m a great singer.”

“Mhm sure,” they say at the same time.

“I did not ask to be attacked like this.”

“You don’t have to, it’s our job as your best friends to keep you humble,” Sam nods, nudging my arm with his elbow.

I hum and turn the page, and Sam makes his first appearance. He’s putting way too many sprinkles on his cookie that looks like it was supposed to be Santa. The next photo is of all of us with our decorated cookies. Mine looks almost bare because I didn’t have enough frosting on it – I was never a frosting person, it’s too sweet. Connor’s somehow has the perfect ratio of frosting to sprinkles. Of course, it’s kinda hard to mess up a candy cane.

The next couple photos are of us in the snow – snow angels, snowball fights, another one of just us smiling at the camera, arms all locked around each other. It takes a few more pages before we get to the photo Connor’s mom was talking about.

I’m squished between the guys, Sam on my left, Connor on my right and they’re both kissing my cheeks. My eyes are shut tight and the picture is a little blurry from where the camera tried to catch my hands pushing them away.

“Hey, if you take Sam out of the picture,” Connor starts, going to cover Sam with his hand. “We’d make a good couple.”

“Don’t be a dick!” Sam shoves his hand away so he can cover Connor’s face. “Obviously we’re the better couple. You’re just the third wheel.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Turn the movie back on. We have like three more to watch tonight.” I change the subject, but I look back at the photo and I can’t help but think that Connor’s right. We do look like a good couple.

---

After we’ve all eaten, the guys and I make our way back to the living room, all the siblings following, scattering on the floor to watch movies with us. The parents have resorted to their rooms, the moms most likely wrapping last minute gifts while our dads all start drifting off so they don’t get asked to do anything. It’s their own tradition.

Once it hits midnight, most everyone has gone to their rooms, except for Connor, Sam, Dylan, and me. But Sam and Dylan are asleep and snoring loudly beside Connor and me. He’s scrolling through his phone and I have my head on his shoulder, watching the movie that’s still on. It’s one of my favorite Christmas movies. Sam hates it, which is why I turned it on after he fell asleep.

“What is it about this movie that you love so much?” Connor asks quietly.

I shrug, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just a sucker for a good ol’ friends to lovers story. It’s the best of all the clichés, I think.”

He just nods. “Yeah. I guess friends to lovers is kinda nice.”

“What? Are you gonna tell me that you don’t like the idea of knowing someone your whole life and slowly realizing that they’re your soulmate?”

“No,” he shakes his head staring down at me with a fond smile. “I – I like the idea. But, I don’t know if it would happen for me.”

“Why not?”

“Well, what if she doesn’t feel the same?” he asks seriously.

“What if she does? What then?”

“It’s not possible.”

“Says who? Any girl would be crazy not to be in love with you.”

He clears his throat, “Any girl?”

“Yeah, any girl,” I say, but I don’t think he quite gets what I’m saying. Because he just nod and looks back at his phone.

“Hey,” he says a few minutes later. “It says it’s snowing. Let’s go.”

“But it’s late.”

“So? We always go out for a walk when the first snow hits. Go get dressed. I’ll get blankets.”

I don’t argue because he’s right. It’s our tradition. Since we started coming here, we always go on a walk together during the first snow. Sam came with us once, but that just resulted in a snowball fight and this was the only quiet time that Connor and I had. So we made it a thing to go when it first started snowing, and then we’d go back out with Sam and go as crazy as we want.

I shiver once we get out there, shrugging my jacket on. “Oh god.”

Connor just snickers and takes my hand. “Come on, let’s go. It’s really coming down out here.”

I follow him and we soon fall into step with each other, our feet crunching the snow beneath us at the same speed, our breathing synchronized.

“Hey, y/n?” he says on our way back to the house.

“Yeah?” I breathe out.

“What you said inside, about liking the whole friends to lovers cliché.”

“Mhm, what about it?”

“Did you mean that you would like it if it were to happen to you?”

“Oh,” I nod and think about it. “Yeah. Yeah, I would. Why?”

Connor shrugs, “I don’t know. I was just – just wondering.”

“Do you want a friends to lovers cliché?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he looks down at his feet while he walks. “I mean, I could see it happening maybe… with you?”

“With,” I clear my throat, “with me?”

He sighs and climbs the steps, walking over to the porch swing where we left the blankets. He sits down, “I mean, I’m just thinking like… if I were to have a crush on you or something. Would – would it be possible that those feelings would be reciprocated?”

“Um,” I sit down next to him and look down at his hands that are clasped together in his lap. “I think that if you had a crush on me, it is very, very possible that those feelings are reciprocated.”

He looks up at me with wide eyes, “Wait, you’re – are you serious?”

“What you said earlier, about us looking like a good couple. Did you mean that?”

He licks his lips and I glance down in time to see his pinkie twitching. I reach forward and place my hand over his. He winces. “Fuck, your hands are cold.” And he covers mine with his, blowing on them to keep the heat. I stare at his rosy cheeks, and eyes that seem even brighter in contrast with the bright white snow. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I meant it.”

I nod once and exhale deeply. “So… what does this mean?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t even really know what just happened.”

“Well, I think we might have just admitted we have feelings for each other.”

“Yes,” he confirms. “We did that. So where do we go from here?”

“I have no idea,” I admit. “But hopefully inside, it’s freezing.”

Connor laughs, “Yeah, it is. Let’s go.” He stands, still holding my hand and he pulls me to my feet, leading me inside. We’re quiet walking back in, careful not to wake Dylan and Sam who are still sleeping, the movie still playing on the TV, but long forgotten. Connor leads me to the kitchen, and he pulls two mugs from the cupboard and gets the kettle from near the coffee maker, turning on the stove before filling the kettle with water.

“So,” I say, hoisting myself up on the counter. “Are we gonna talk about this next move thing?”

“Yes,” he answers, jumping to sit next to me, our legs touching. “I think we need to go on a date.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks, and it’s clear he wasn’t expecting that to be my response.

“Well, actually, I would like to be asked on a date.”

He blushes and looks down. “Sorry.” But then he looks back up and he has a very bright smile on his face and I’m reminded why I fell for him in the first place. His smile could light up the whole world, and no I do not take constructive criticism. “Would you, y/n, like to accompany me on an outing, one that is often referred to as a date?”

I can’t help but laugh, “Sure, yes. I would very much like to accompany you on an outing often referred to as a date.”

“Yeah? That’s – that’s great! I’ll start planning tonight.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Okay. That sounds good.” I nod and swing my feet as we both fall silent, waiting for the water to boil.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

I choke on air. “What?”

“Sorry,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t – I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I just – well, yeah. I want to kiss you. Because I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss you since I was fourteen and now that we’re going on a date I feel – excuse me for assuming – like I’m that much closer and it’s absolutely killing me to not know what it’s like to –”

“Connor, kiss me,” I interrupt his rambling.

He only hesitates a second before his hands are on either side of my jaw and his lips are covering mine in a heated kiss. I hum against him and reach for his hair, tugging a little, which in turn causes him to moan against my lips. And holy hell, what wouldn’t I give to hear that again over and over for the rest of my life. His tongue teases my bottom lip and I part my lips, allowing him to roam. This kiss is heaven. It’s everything I could have ever wanted with this boy in particular. It’s the type of kiss that leaves your toes curling and your mind spinning. It’s perfect until –

Eeeeeekkk!!! The kettle squeals, startling us both, and causing Connor to bite my lip as he pulls away.

“Ow,” I hold onto my lips while Connor jumps from the counter to take the kettle off the stove. He pours the water into our mugs and then grabs the tea bags from the cupboard above him, placing one in each of our cups before turning and handing me mine. “Thanks,” I say, still holding my lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“You bit my lip when you pulled away.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. Is it bleeding?” I ask, taking my hand away.

He leans closer to inspect it and shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay. Why don’t you kiss it and make it better?”

Connor raises an eyebrow, “You want me to?”

“Please?”

He sets his mug down beside me and I do the same. And then he’s taking my face again and kissing my lips softly. He pecks my lips six times before I groan.

“Kiss me like you mean it, Brashier.”

He chuckles and pulls me closer, doing as he’s told.

***

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[skylarmoon71]

E2 Harrison Wells x Reader- Oneshot (Extra)

"Does it fit?" Harry shakes his head, removing the screw.

"I might have miscalculated the size."

"Wow, you made a mistake. That's impossible."

"Very funny (Y/N)." you just smile, and Harry removes his glasses, heading to get some other screw for the newest of his little gadgets. During the weeks after that little party at Iris's house, you and Harry seem to have gotten closer. Maybe it was the way you could relate. 

You both shared a similar experience. You understood each other. That mutual understanding grew into respect. Now you can't get enough of the grumpy overconfident Harry Wells. Cisco was on a little snack break. You were off your shift, so you thought why not swing by STAR Labs. Now it was just you and Harry, so you settled for helping him with his little experiments.

Taking a seat, you stare at the cup of water on his desk. Harry might be a while, so why not keep yourself entertained. Twiddling your fingers, you watch the water swirl around, rising out of the cup. You make small circles with your index finger, enjoying the patterns it created.

"Having fun." you nearly drop the water, but you catch yourself at the last second, glaring at Harry. 

"I almost caused a short to all these computers." you gesture to the screens right next to you. Harry looks a bit proud that he caught you off guard and you drop the water back into the cup. He takes a seat, but he doesn't return to work, he's looking at you.

"Harry, I hope you're not getting any ideas. I'm not gonna go through some weird experiment." As a scientist you know he can't help but want to test each and every thing. Cisco made you run through so many unnecessary trials when you first discovered your abilities. Some that probably were just for his curiosity.

"I've never had the opportunity to witness you use those abilities up close. We're always facing some kind of danger. "

He's right. When weren't you fighting some crazy meta.

"You can manipulate the water ratio in the body as well." This is the first time he's really taken interest. "Well yeah. Our body's about 60 percent but I guess you already knew that."

"Naturally." you just roll your eyes with a smile.

"Can you show me?" your brows knit.

"Harry, my powers don't work like Barry's. People can get hurt when I.." 

Truth of the matter is you tried to avoid using your powers after you'd almost murdered Calvin's killer. The fear of losing control and offing someone was constantly at the back of your mind.

"I know you." You can see it on his face, he displays nothing but absolute trust. At what point did you become weak to Harry?

"Show me?" He tries again. You don't agree at once, because you're still a little weary. But he trusts you, so what do you really have to fear?

"Okay." you lift your hand, and it's shaking a little. You close your hand to keep it steady. Harry waits patiently for whatever you're about to do. "Can you turn your hand over?" Harry obeys your request, turning his hand over on his lap. Your palm hovers right over it, and he marvels at the fact that his hand lifts on it's own.

He isn't moving a single muscle to assist. Your eyes are intensely concentrated, and he supposes it's the reason he feels nothing but a twitch in his hand. It rises all the way to yours like a puppet on a string, and now your hands are pointed upwards, fingers spread apart. They touch, and Harry's eyes connect with yours. 

"Astonishing." with a shy smile, you take a breath before you stop the action. Harry can no longer feel the pressure aiding him, and he guesses he should move his hand now, but he really doesn't want to.

"I hope it didn't hurt, I was trying my best to deter the pull. With villains I don't have a problem adding force. I'm not really used to applying it under non threatening circumstances."

"I think you've mastered both areas. I didn't feel a thing." you sigh in relief. 

"That's good, I was really worried I'd hurt you."

"Rest assured then, I came out unscathed." He sends you a gentle smile, and it's then you realize your hands are still touching. You're about to pull away, but Harry links your fingers. Those digits slip between yours, causing your heart to stagger.

"H-Harry.."

"It's amazing isn't it, how much you can read from physical contact. How well it conveys what we feel." He places his free hand on the handle of your chair, wheeling you closer. Your breath hitches. Harry really was sneaky. He hasn't released your hand yet, and now your knees brush. You swallow as his eyes seem to penetrate your soul.

He raises his hand, touching your cheek. There's a strong urge to lean into his touch, to fall into this abyss. Harry inches closer, gaze darting between your eyes and your lips. He's just a hairline away. Your eyelids lower and just as you feel the mingling of your breaths, you're smacked back into reality. Pulling back quickly, you scramble to your feet. You're shuffling frantically, eyes beginning to water.

"H-Harry I-I can't I-I need to.." you sob, and Harry rushes to his feet, holding you in his arms. He knows why you're so rattled. Closing your eyes you cry softly. 

"I-I'm so sorry Harry.."

"Shh shh, you have nothing to apologize for. I was acting on my own impulses." It's been years to slowly move on. It's only been a year for you, and you're still finding your way through it all.

"You won't lose me (Y/N)."

He knows, and understands. You're terrified to put yourself out there because you're afraid that if you do, that love will be ripped from you again. Your hold tightens on his body, and he runs his arms over your back, trying to calm you. Rocking side to side, he hums a soft tone, and you can feel the tension leaving your body. Your cries die out slowly, but he doesn't let go. You need this, and so does he. 

He waits until you're ready. When He feels you pulling back slowly, he loosens his hold. "Are you alright?" you nod, and Harry wipes the remnants of tears from your eyes. You appreciate the gesture.

 "I'm sorry I pushed you, I more than anyone should be understanding of your situation. "

"It's okay Harry." You'd never blame him for such a thing, or be angry. For you, there's been a spark for a while now. Between your lectures when he goes at it with Cisco, or just your daily bickers when Harry feels the need to prove his intelligence on a case. "It's not that I'm not attracted to you Harry."

"I would hope not, I'm very attractive." he grins, and you smack his shoulder. "I'm trying to be serious here you jerk." you can't help but laugh, and Harry loves it. He much prefers this sound.

"I get it, you need time to heal. There's no shame in admitting you're still in pain (Y/N). Something like that, love like that, it doesn't vanish overnight.

 "This is one of the reasons that you've fallen for the dark haired scientist. As intolerable as he can be at times, at his core, he's understanding, loyal and caring. "I'll give you space to-'

"No!" He's alarmed at the yell. You step closer, and Harry can't stop his eyes from straying to your lips. Swallowing, he waits for some type of explanation.

"You're right, it has been hard. A part of me will never stop loving Calvin. I know that. But I think I'm..I think I'm starting to move on. I don't want space Harry..not from you.''

"(Y/N), you don't have to-"

"I know." This isn't some obligation you feel you have to fulfill. And earlier, your reaction wasn't a rejection, it was just a call to reality. There's a man standing right in front of you, ready to love you, and it scares you, but it also warms your heart. "We can take it slow (Y/N), there's no rush to feel pressure into it. "

Harry is the cutest. He really doesn't want to jeopardize anything. You're the one who makes the first move this time. Your thumb slides over his lower lip, and you've finally managed to get him to stop rambling. Leaning unto your tiptoes, you kiss him with all you have. 

You need to let him know you appreciate it all. His friendship, care, sarcasm, strength, trust...love. Harry's hands settle on your waist, and he can longer resist. He pulls you impossibly close. 

There are no restrictions, and he uses that to his advantage. Fingers slipping into your hair, he deepens the kiss, relishing in the little moan that slips from you. The melody urges him to provoke some more out. You open yourself to him, no barriers. There's just you and him.

For the first time in a while, you feel light, and it's all thanks to Harry.

[kingbuckley]

Alright you guys this turned into an absolute monster of a fic rec. It’s organised by word count in descending order, and ALL FICS HAVE A HAPPY ENDING!! i don’t read fics that don’t end happy so even if a fic seems scary you can rest assured it ends fine if it’s here.

Special shoutout to @thisissirius (same ao3 handle) and @getbvcked (attolians (annber) on ao3) i have all their fics bookmarked so i didn’t include them individually in this list but you should check them out because every fic they put out is amazing. 

the rest is under the cut:

Breaking and Entering by AngelCuttingOnions (g/1k): Have you ever been terrified to lose something that isn’t even yours? Digging helplessly at the mud with your bare hands, so determined not to let go, not to give up. Your heart going so fast you think it might just beat out of your chest.

in any place you'll allow by barelyprolific (m/1k): Cleaning duty has never looked as good as Evan Buckley waxing floors.Or, Eddie Diaz finally makes his move.

Care and Keeping by BlackRose (m/1k): Eddie's alive, but he almost wasn't. Buck's determined to keep him safe now more than ever. Eddie, wants Buck to feel seen.

Cool for the Summer by Onlymystory (e/1k): Buck comes over to apologize to Eddie. It's a very good apology.

fireworks have nothing on you by inkandella (nr/1k): Buck’s tears had dried not too long ago, but his hands still shook as he wrung them. Bobby had just left to deal with, well, everything, but Buck remained by the truck, refusing to drag his eyes from Eddie for even a second. Eventually it was just Hen and Chim that remained, and Buck could finally see Eddie clearly. The man’s face was streaked with mud, dirt, and blood, his shoulders were bowed and eyes stared blankly off somewhere ahead of him. Buck bit his lips, but it didn’t really help him from asking again. “Is he okay?”Or; Buck finally does something about it.

Hotel Complaints and Grievances Raised by asexual-fandom-queen (m/2k): After a night out with the 118, Eddie wakes up with Buck naked in bed, and a barrage of feelings to face.

fight so dirty/love so sweet by homewrecker (m/2k): Buck and Eddie go for the title.

YOUR MOUTH IS HEAVEN by AgnesClementine (t/2k): A tongue piercing. Buck has a tongue piercing. Which is fine. Totally fine. Eddie is absolutely not going to lose sleep because of that information.

Zoom Into My Heart by Shaniamr (m/2k): Buck didn't know that zoom shared your private chats at the end of the meeting, but he's about to find out.

collisions in the dark by Marcia Elena (marciaelena) (e/2k): Eddie and Christopher spend the night at Buck's. Coda to 3x09.

What do you need? by RealOrFiction (e/2k): Buck has needs. Needs that haven't been met in a while.

Great Game by LovelyLittleGrim (e/2k): Buck’s watching him, waiting for some type of response. “Scared, Diaz?”“I don’t have any reason to be scared, Buckley.” He meets Buck’s eyes, lips quirked and murmurs, “I always come out on top.”

Buck Wild by Ithinkwehaveanemergency (m/2k): Eddie accidentally finds out that his best friend, coworker, and secret crush has done gay porn.

no greater joy by elisela (g/2k): When he wakes again, he finds Buck and Christopher out in the backyard, snuggled into the hammock that Buck had brought over months earlier, the day after Christopher had offhandedly mentioned that he’d been in one during a camping trip once and liked it. Buck was fooling no one when he said he’d happened to find it in storage, and Eddie had helped him set it up immediately, basking in the second-hand glow of Buck’s complete adoration of his son.

No Rest for the Wicked by Wassereis (e/2k): Eddie gets home early. What he finds wasn't what he expected.

people who love the same by templemarker (t/2k): Buck was just reheating a plate for Eddie when he heard a very familiar snort behind him."Okay, what now," he said expectantly."So," Hen drawled, "you have one plate on the counter, steaming, already had a couple of bites. And now you've got a second plate," she gestured at the microwave to the reheating lasagne, "and we all know who that plate's for."Buck looked at her, tilting his head. "I mean, I always make a plate for Eddie," he said, confused.

One Week by elisela (g/3k): Christopher's week revolves around Buck.

wherever I'm with you by anonymous (g/3k): In which Buck can't settle down in his own apartment until he realizes the true meaning of the word home.Or; Sleeping is easier when it's with Eddie.

To Be Whole by mansikka (t/3k): They say that when you and your soulmate are ready to meet, whatever they write on their skin will appear on yours, and vice versa. Which Buck thinks is bullshit. Right up until words start appearing on his arm.

Pull The Pin by islandgirl (g/3k): Everything they've been feeling and not saying is like a grenade between them and damn it all, Buck is ready to pull the pin, let the explosion happen and for everything to fall into place.

Long Overdue by mansikka (m/3k): Eddie realizes his feelings for Buck are more than platonic; what's he supposed to do now?

you could write this love in stone by chocolatebirdie (nr/4k): "Whatever happens, after tonight, I just want you to know that your friendship has meant everything to me. You’re my best friend, Eddie. You and Chris are – are like family to me. And I’m really grateful to have met you both.”“Why does this sound like you’re breaking up with me?” Eddie asks. The confusion-amusement ratio has started to skew towards the former, with an added dose of concern. Well maybe if he’d shut up and let Buck talk, Eddie wouldn’t be so puzzled.Did he have to use the phrase “break up,” though? Buck’s not sure he can stand the implication.

you can always be found by chocolatebirdie (nr/4k): Abby's back in LA, and she keeps trying to get in touch with Buck. The only problem? He's literally always with Eddie.

Until the Dancing Ends by suyari (g/4k): It’s been the strangest day of his life to date.Or the one where everyone's seen the footage of the rescue but Eddie.

when the hardest part is over by Anonymous (g/4k): “It’s okay,” Buck rasps out, tight against Eddie’s ear. “We got you back. We got you. You’re safe.”It sounds like he’s reassuring himself as much as Eddie – might even be saying it for Christopher’s sake even though the boy is blissfully unaware of what’s happened tonight. A mantra spoken to the night like a victory speech, a reminder that it could take nothing away from them.

Not Done by red_to_black (nr/4k): Buck volunteered to get into the ambulance with him, knowing the risks. He's pinching the guy's skin and saying, "Take it out," and Eddie, for the first time since leaving the military, feels it - a connection. A kindred spirit. A purpose that tethers him to reality. A person relying on him to get the job done.(or - a list of things Eddie Diaz couldn't give up on, including himself.)

Talk About It by DoneInLove (e/4k): You want to send me your dickpic?Just to see if it looks okay. Buck starts sending Eddie his dick pics before he sends them to other people.Eddie doesn't know why he decided this was a good idea.

Guessing Game by Arsenal (t/4k): Buck overhears Eddie telling his mother that he has feelings for someone and drives himself nuts trying to figure out who is possibly could be. aka yet another oblivious Buck fic

Happy Buck Day by Jecari (g/5k): After pushing the balloons tied to Christopher's crutch away, Eddie finds his best friend frowning, mouth agape. Buck looks adorable."It's not my birthday," Buck points out after shaking his head."We know," Christopher laughs.

Buck Is My Warrior by elisela (g/5k): “We’ll be filming a special edition of American Ninja Warrior,” Troy announces after the introduction to the current contestant ends, “focused on our brave first responders. Go to our website to find out more details and how to submit your videos.”Oh.“Buddy,” Eddie says, “I don’t really know if that’s my thing.”Christopher looks at him, then down at his feet and mumbles something.“Didn’t catch that, kiddo,” Eddie says, reaching out and pressing two fingers under Chris’ chin to tilt his face back up.“I said,” Christopher says, “I want to nominate Buck.”

Eddie Diaz and the Cat-astrophe at the 118 by SquaresAreNotCircles (g/5k): It’s Chimney who rescues her from the tree, but it’s Bobby’s arms that she curls up in on the drive over to the vet to get her checked out. Right from the start, it’s as if she knows who she needs to cozy up with to secure her spot at the station.“Come on, that’s crazy,” Buck says, but he does so while laughing not at Eddie, but at the grey tabby cat trying to get her claws on the fake mouse on a string that Buck bought with his own money, so Eddie doesn’t put too much stock in his opinion.Or: The firefam adopts a mascot and Eddie has a minor crisis about it.

Evan Buckley and a Series of Unintended Consequences by Shaniamr (e/6k): Buck has been hurt on the job and has lost the ability to use his hands while they heal. Eddie jumps at the opportunity to help Buck with anything he needs. Anything.

Love Language by red_to_black (nr/6k): The one in which there's too much pollen around, Eddie pines, and Buck is oblivious.Or - Eddie's love language is acts of service, and Buck doesn't totally get it.

The Other Woman by MomentsOfWeakness (t/6k): Buck has been unlucky in love lately and he can't figure out why. It takes a phone call from Eddie and an interrupted date for him to finally put the pieces together.

My Favorite Place Is Inside Your Hug by Lopithecus (e/7k): When Eddie gets stuck in a hole while trying to rescue a kid, he remembers Afghanistan and how many people were lost. Luckily he has Buck in his corner to help him get through the memories.

give me strength so i can see by see_addy_write (t/7k): After the tsunami, Buck is sure Eddie won't want him anywhere near Christopher -- or himself. Both of the Diaz boys have something to say about that.

haircut to the heart by itsmylifekay (nr/8k): 5 times Buck cuts Christopher’s hair and 1 time Christopher helps cut his.

In the Aftershock by hideeho (t/8k): When Eddie is injured on the job, Buck is forced to face the fallout.

Slow Your Thinking by an_alternate_world (e/10k): Eddie has the itch to fight, the discomforting unease of needing to release all his negativity again making it difficult to concentrate on the calls. Buck suggests an alternative: surrendering his need for control to Buck for a while.

Just For This Moment by suyari (m/10k): “Take your time,” Carla said sternly. “Don’t rush this because you’re worried, Buck, do you hear me? Any change in your scent could just set him off.”“Yes, thank you, I know how to deal with Alphas,” he drawled.“Yes, but Eddie’s not just another Alpha and I think it’s time we acknowledged that.”

You Are Safe (With Me) by BabylonsFall (g/10k): Or: 5 times Eddie waltzed into Buck's apartment like he owned it, and 1 time Buck tried

you waltz through my bloodstream by wayfarer (t/2k): Buck gets a boyfriend and Eddie is totally fine with that. Really.

can't fight that feeling by Anonymous (e/11k): “We have to keep this quiet,” he realizes.“That’s,” Eddie starts, his eyebrows tilting inwards adorably. “I mean, yeah, if that’s what you wanna do, then—”“Not for long,” Buck protests. “I’m thinking until tomorrow.”The eyebrows rise with interest; the eyes beneath get their spark back. “Yeah?”“It’s Maddie and Chimney’s wedding day,” Buck says, slipping his hands down the last bit and entwining them with Eddie’s. “Today should be solely about them, about their love. You and I can have tomorrow. All the tomorrows.”

Just Hold Me Well by Lobotomite (m/11k): It was meant to be a fun little trip with his 118 family; no stress, no drama, and certainly no sexuality-redefining fumbles that make him realize his more than platonic feelings towards his best friend. But, well, when has anything ever gone according to plan for Buck?

a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things (nr/11k): Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

Darling It's Better (Down Where It's Wetter) by Onlymystory (e/20k): "Who the hell is that?" asks Buck. Like he doesn't know exactly who that is. Like a week ago he wasn't enjoying one of the best fucks of his life with Eddie Diaz. Or the reason for Buck's surprise at the new recruit isn't quite for the reasons everyone thinks.

i think i might've inhaled you by ariquitecontrary (m/20k): How do you tell your best friend that you're actually in love with them? If you're Evan Buckley, you don't.

dancing under red skies by dayswithout (g, 30k) Buck hates Eddie Diaz on sight.aka, a soulmate au. (Eddie’s POV; g/15k)

dancing under red skies by dayswithout (g/30k): Buck hates Eddie Diaz on sight.aka, a soulmate au.

The Education of Eddie Diaz by mansikka (e/30k): Eddie doesn't really know how it happened. One moment the 118 are drunk in a bar after a hard shift, confessions slipping from his mouth as he playfully kisses Buck on the cheek. The next he is on Buck's couch, taking up Buck's offer of an education that could be asking for trouble. But it's just sex, and they're just friends; it doesn't mean anything to either of them. So why is his time alone with Buck the highlight of his week?

Guess We'll Just Have to Adjust by CocoBadShip (m/30k): No, Buck does not have a damn crush on Eddie fucking Diaz. No, Buck is not thinking about Eddie's stupid smile or his stupid hair or that obscene sound he made when he pushed the couch the way he did.Having a crush would be weird. And dumb. And the last thing Buck needs in his already fucked up life.

tagging those of you who requested @lafdbuckley @casscent @googoodreamers

and some mutuals because why not @eddiediazs @judsonryder @fierydeans @buckleystrand

[obscure-sentimentalist]

flommy, “I have pillows, blankets, supreme comfort, and all that’s missing is you.”

[So this one’s been nagging at me for probably about a year now? It had been sitting half-started for ages, as I never really knew how to carry out the idea I had, but I did my best in coming back to it now. Bit lighter on the Flommy interactions this time, but in exchange we get Tommy and Thea siblingness and some Tommy thoughts.]

From the Comforting Cuddles starters list

“What do you think about ‘I have pillows, blankets, supreme comfort, and all that’s missing is you’?”

“Do you need me to take you to the ER?” Thea deadpans from her perch on the cushioned window seat in Tommy’s room of the hotel suite without looking up from her phone. “Because it sounds like you got one of those Hallmark cards from the airport gift shop lodged in your throat.”

Tommy slowly lowers his own phone and rolls his head towards his sister, expression settling into one of loving annoyance. “What I’m getting out of that is that I have a future in the greeting card industry.”

“The future you should be more concerned about is the one where I spin-kick you in the head before the emotional trauma of hearing my brother workshopping romantic texts to his girlfriend sets in.”

“Hey, I’m keeping it perfectly PG,” Tommy defends, pointing at Thea with his free hand for emphasis.

That finally gets her to set her phone aside and swivel in her seat to face Tommy, giving him a striking, raised-eyebrow look. “I think the subject matter automatically makes it PG-13.”

“It’s a hotel bed!” Any exasperation behind the words trips right out of the gate, stumbling into nervous laughter.

Thea just continues to stare, swinging her legs back-and-forth unevenly as her feet dangle above the floor.

“That’s… achieved the perfect ratio of softness to firmness for an excellent night’s sleep?” Tommy can feel his ears reddening as they disappear into his shoulders. “Also, those pillows. Heavenly. Remind me to check with management to find out who the supplier is, I’m going to place a personal bulk order once we get back to Starling.”

“Right,” Thea says slowly, legs finally stilling. “So the high-quality comfiness is the thing worth writing home about. No other reason why you’d express missing having a plus-one to enjoy it.”

Had his mouth not dropped open with a scandalized pop instead, Tommy might have swallowed his tongue. “Thea Dearden Queen, you’re going to stop right there before I also ask about the hotel’s highest-strength cleaning supplies and if they can be applied directly to my brain.”

“You asked for critique,” Thea reminds him, but backs off by raising her hands sarcastically in surrender. “Just pointing out insinuations you may or may not have intended. You’re welcome.”

Chagrined by both the acknowledgement that he’d asked for help and his sister’s frankness in delivering said feedback, Tommy turns his attention back to the blinking cursor in the half-filled message box. The wittiness of the greeting has dulled significantly since the lightbulb first flicked on, even without the suggestive commentary. It’s a grim admission that spurs Tommy’s thumb to find the delete key and hold, consuming the carefully-crafted words before his eyes until he’s greeted once again by blank space.

The fact that Thea’s sigh is louder than his own is what pries Tommy away from his seemingly insurmountable task with his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“You really haven’t done this sort of thing before, have you?” Thea asks, waving a hand vaguely at the room as she sinks back against the window. “The out-of-town business trip.”

Admitting defeat (at least for the moment), Tommy tosses the phone onto the bed and crosses his arms, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I mean, if my business was pleasure...”

“So no, then,” Thea cuts in with a fond eye-roll. Her face goes soft a moment later, though, and she glances back at Tommy with a strange sort of knowingness. “Which means you especially haven’t done it when you’ve been in an actual relationship.”

Tommy offers up an entirely sheepish look. “I think that’s a given.”

Thea makes a little shrug-like expression with her lips, conceding that point. She pulls one foot up to rest on the cushion and hugs her knee to her chest, before giving Tommy another gently pointed stare. “It’s okay, you know.”

“Hmm?” Tommy rocks back on his heels as he lets the questioning hum slip, and rolls his lips under for a façade of innocence. These last few exchanges have been drawing them dangerously close to vulnerable topics—it’s still Tommy’s carefully-wired reflex to either clown about it or just play dumb.

Too bad Thea knows those moves when she sees them, and her narrowed eyes suggest that she’s still considering the earlier threat of a spin-kick in the head.

“It’s okay to miss her,” she says, stripping Tommy’s anxieties bare with a single statement.

For a split second, he thinks he might have preferred stewing in the awkward surrounding the Bed Text for just a bit longer. Incidental innuendoes are familiar territory, even if being called out for them by his younger sister adds a new layer of humiliation.

The notion doesn’t linger, though, but it’s due less to the embarrassment than it is to his brain bouncing from point to point like a pinball machine from hell. The mortification just ricochets back to the almost-slip in question, and—true to pattern as of late—propels his thoughts to a flare of fondness and Felicity. The thing that makes Tommy want to bury his face in one of the pillows that started it all, though, is the fact that the ball rebounds again to the current conversation, seemingly inescapable.

“It’s not weird?” The question comes hesitantly as he uncrosses his arms, immediately bringing one hand to rub the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s only two nights, and one already down—we’re back by tomorrow afternoon, no time at all. I feel like it’s too much, just me being unreasonably clingy.”

Experience seems to back up that impression, after all. Two years, five, more have created gulfs between Tommy and his loved ones, and even then, his longing and loneliness came off as exaggerated and one-sided.

But maybe that’s not entirely fair, he immediately scrambles to note. Oliver was working through his own problems at the time (in questionably-at-best healthy ways), caught up in a different storm of emotion and trauma that instinctively repelled Tommy—familiar magnets flipped to the same pole for the very first time. Perhaps it took more time and effort than either of them could have expected, and still never returned them to where they left off, but they did manage to establish a balance better suited to who they are now.

(Even Tommy’s being in this hotel room—as one of three co-owners of Verdant, joining Thea in exploring options for expanding the club outside of Starling—is evidence enough of that reconciliation and understanding.)

As for his father’s absence and return…

Well, any expression of emotion comes off as an overreaction when compared to Malcolm, and should not be counted.

Almost as if she senses Tommy’s once-solid evidence crumbling to dust, Thea pushes off the window seat, landing gracefully on her feet. “You’re overthinking this, especially with the texts. Just call her, all right? We don’t need to head out for at least another hour, so there’s plenty of time.”

Still lagging a little bit from trying to detangle his anxieties, Tommy nods absently in agreement as his eyes follow Thea’s movements towards the door. When she crosses the threshold to head back into the suite’s living area, though, his brain finally catches up. “Hey! How is it that you’re the one giving me relationship advice?”

Thea grips the doorframe and leans her full body back into the room, one eyebrow arched as she tilts her head to look at him.

“I mean, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? You know, older brother’s prerogative and all?” Tommy defends weakly, wilting under the sharp stare.

“Seeing as I ended up with emotionally-constipated brothers on both sides, I think that privilege has been revoked,” Thea declares, smoothly propelling herself back upright and reaching for the doorknob. She pulls it behind her as she finally departs, but not before shooting Tommy a cheeky, “I’ll give you some privacy to relay the magical properties of a hotel bed.”

Tommy imagines his immediate response is the sound an ostrich would make if strangled. “Okay, look…”

The door closes firmly before he can get any more words out, but not fast enough that he doesn’t catch Thea’s laughter.

“Brat,” Tommy mutters affectionately under his breath, before teetering backwards to flop down on said bed. The impact bounces his phone an inch or two above the comforter, only to land face-down right next to his hip.

Tommy’s breath catches in his chest as his attention is drawn again to the device, a mere hand-twitch within reach. Hardly any effort at all to pick up, and selecting Felicity’s name from his recent call log to re-dial is no more complex a step. But his hand seems to be declining all calls from his brain, remaining unmoving at his side without even an itch in the fingertips.

He’s overreacting—he has to be, and for real this time. It’s been barely a day since his standard morning protest of Felicity’s alarm (involving an exaggerated yawn and an arm stretched across her stomach to secure her in place for just a bit longer) was met with a laugh and a set of ice-cold toes pressed to his shins in retaliation. Barely a day since Tommy lumbered past the bathroom door on his way to the kitchen and couldn’t (wouldn’t) fight the grin that bloomed upon overhearing Felicity’s murmur-singing of some earworm while getting ready. Barely a day since she’d swept into the kitchen, all color and curls, to accept the travel mug of coffee from Tommy’s hands in exchange for a soft, lingering kiss and wishes for a safe flight.

A one-day break from routine—one that’s still a few months fresh, at that—and certain comfort shouldn’t be this jarring, should it?

After all, it’s not like they’ve been completely out of contact for the last 24 hours. Tommy had passed along travel updates (and a couple pictures taken mid-flight of Thea, tuned out with her neck pillow, eye mask, and earbuds); in turn, Felicity had relayed the shift between her day and night jobs, and confirmed her safe return home following the latter. There may temporarily be a few hundred miles of physical distance between them, but Felicity is still firmly here in Tommy’s life.

And yet, he can’t help but linger on the memory of waking this morning: rolling onto his stomach and reaching across the bed, only for his arm to land flat atop a mattress completely devoid of another body’s warmth. How the confusion and pinprick of hurt struck faster than the recognition that said bed wasn’t his own and why, and the clarity only served to transform it into a yearning ache. Even brushing his teeth was a more solemn affair, with Tommy still half-listening for Felicity puttering around and starting her day.

Maybe Thea… has a point.

Before Tommy can tend to the gentle bruise to his ego from admitting his younger sister has relationship wisdom where he does not, his phone buzzes with an incoming call. Synapses finally firing as they should, his hand wraps around the device and lifts it to his face to glance at the screen.

His fingers nearly fumble and drop the phone directly onto his face when he sees Felicity’s contact photo (one he’d surreptitiously taken shortly after they’d moved in together, when he’d caught her pleasantly lost in thought at the kitchen table) and the banner requesting a video call.

Thankfully, Tommy manages to spare himself that painful landing by adjusting his grip and scooting back into a seated position against the headboard. He takes and releases a deep breath to compose himself, before his thumb finds the Accept button.

Within an instant of Felicity coming into focus, Tommy feels his lips tug into a broad smile to compliment her still-sleepy one.

“Morning,” she greets with a little finger-wiggling wave, before she pulls a steaming mug of coffee into view with her other hand. After a second, she curls her fingers into her palm and wrinkles her nose in thought. “Wow, that was weird.”

“What, saying ‘good morning’?” Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Felicity mirrors the expression and throws in a shrug. “I rarely get to open with it, at least. It’s usually beat out by someone requesting that I ‘please keep hands and feet and body inside the bed at all times’.”

“Always best to take those safety messages seriously, you know,” Tommy notes sagely. He can feel the corners of his mouth twitching, threatening an even bigger smile, but the impulse immediately extinguishes once he sees Felicity worrying her lower lip between her teeth and averting her gaze in uncertainty.

“I missed it today,” she blurts, catching them both off-guard after a (seemingly agonizingly long) beat. A light flush comes to her cheeks at that, but she confidently lifts her eyes back to meet Tommy’s and amends, “I missed you. Waking up with only a tangle of blankets trying to keep me in bed, and then getting ready on my own… I mean, it’s not unusual or unfamiliar, I did get by for many years this way. But I guess going back now, after getting into new and shared habits, is stranger than I expected.”

Felicity takes a breath to duck her head a little and push a stray curl behind her ear with her free hand, before picking up steam. “It must be something about the distance that’s getting to me—for no real reason, because it’s only been the one day and you’re back tomorrow—but I wanted to call and say…”

“I have pillows, blankets, supreme comfort, and all that’s missing is you.”

Only once Felicity pauses, lips frozen in a little “O” and only a single surprised blink to prove that the connection isn’t buffering, does Tommy realize he’s landed himself right back where he started. This time, though, he’s backed by Felicity’s own testimony, and that changes the game.

The lights on the pinball machine of his thoughts are going wild, that’s for sure.

“What I mean by that,” he starts, punctuating mid-sentence by awkwardly clearing his throat, “is that I miss you too. That I was actually looking forward to cold feet on my legs this morning, and hoping to hear you singing in the bathroom, and…”

Tommy trails off, disguising a small wince. Thea’s going to be smug about this for the rest of the weekend, and almost certainly for a while after they return to Starling.

“And I think that, if we’re both feeling this way, maybe we’re not overreacting so much as we’re… on to something.”

It’s difficult to determine what that “something” is, beyond the sense that it feels right. That they—Felicity and Tommy, together—feel right, and even a temporary deviation from pattern (no matter how small or odd) is a shock to the system.

It’s okay to miss her.

Felicity remains silent on the other end—the stunned expression having melted off her face and into something more thoughtful, but much less readable. Even though their conversation up to this point made their alignment apparently clear and she’s likely just turning the implications over in her mind, Tommy can’t help but subtly squirm from the suspense.

“Yeah,” Felicity finally speaks up, lips spreading in a small, soft smile as she nods in agreement. “Maybe we are.”

Despite that being the very answer Tommy was hoping to hear, he has no immediate idea how to respond.

“Oh. Uh, good,” he fumbles. “Because I’m hoping you’ll feel the same way about these pillows if I manage to find out where they’re from and get my hands on a few.”

Something in Tommy’s chest swoops as Felicity cracks out a startled yet amused laugh. “You’re really stuck on those, huh?”

Tommy meets that with a casual shrug and pats the one next to him for emphasis. “I’m a connoisseur. These meet all the necessary criteria, and then some.”

“And I’m a tough sell,” Felicity retorts, settling back in her seat and bringing her mug to her lips. “I know what I like, and I’m seeing only one pillow here that I want for sure by the end of the weekend.” To drive the point home, she bobs her head sharply to give Tommy a once-over.

“Well, now that I will gladly arrange,” Tommy agrees, and lets the grin spread unrestrained across his face.