#For a change of pace I listened to her lines in the background rather than music hehe ♪

[sysig]

You mentioned you mainly ship Glados/Chell when it comes to Portal? Could I please request something with them, however you personally imagine their dynamic? Sorry for the vague prompt, I'm just curious what your ideas are!

Day 25 - As if being dead wasn't bad enough

[the-gamer-blog-for-anyone]

I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO WATCHING THE MARIO MOVIE!

Since I did just watch it, I figured I should give my take on the movie. THIS IS NOT DEFINITIVE. How I feel is my opinion, and you are not inclined to agree with me. Also, this really isn’t a criticism post but more just stuff I noticed or would point out to anyone else who is planning to watch it.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!

To start: Plot. It’s about what you would expect of a Mario Bros movie. Just like the games, it’s a simple “rescue story” premise. Someone is in danger, Mario and his friends rescue them. However, I feel like this gives backstory to the games rather than being something happening during the game events. Also, it changes the standard story a little in that Luigi is being sought after most of the movie rather than Peach, who instead is training Mario to come with her and rescue him and the Mushroom Kingdom. We meet who eventually will be Mario’s friends and get some insight on how they might have met, even Mario Kart logic! Overall, nothing groundbreaking, but still enjoyable for anyone who has been with the series, no matter how long.

On those same lines, pacing is strange, but gets to the point so the movie doesn’t take forever. It seems like parts would be longer, like when Peach first meets Mario and he asks for help. It sounds like this would be a build-up of moments to trust him on her journey, but instead she almost immediately trains him. Does this take away from my enjoyment? Absolutely not. If you came to this movie for the plot writing, though, I’d say don’t get your hopes up.

Characters; as I said, we get to meet some of the main characters in many of the mainstream games. Obviously, there’s Mario, Peach, Luigi, Donkey Kong, Toad, and Bowser. Alongside those, we also get to see personalities for some characters who have only been seen as enemies or side characters, like Kamek, the Koopas, and the rest of the Toads. I liked that we also got introduced to the fact that more Kongs exist other than three I always think of, which sort of gives a glimpse of Donkey Kong’s background. In short, there are lots of characters and most have been given the personality and backstory they lack. It’s not incredibly well-written, but again, doesn’t take away from my enjoyment.

Animation: AMAZING! I love how goofy it makes the characters look with their actions, while still showing an amazing amount of detail. You could see points where game design was taken into account when characters walked, ran, and jumped; even the go-kart designs were true to the Mario Kart games for the most part. Rainbow Road scene was gorgeous, and I love the design of the kingdoms and Bowser’s… ship? Floating lava-castle-island thing? Whatever it is, it looks awesome. Character designs are so cartoonish but still lifelike, even the hair looks well-designed and animated. Basically, everything about this is just *chefs kiss*.

Soundtrack: Ok, the orchestral stuff I could listen to All. Day. Long. Like, it sounds so cool, especially since I can pick out parts from games I’ve played. Now, the other songs that have nothing to do with Mario? I felt like some didn’t fit. Take on Me is a great song, sure, but it didn’t fit with the whole “racing down the track” scene. Holding out for a Hero? I mean, it works, but such a cliche pick. Now, I loved the No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn pick, mainly because it fit with the scene of them running, non-stop, to their first job. I can’t put all of it here, but overall, Orchestral was great, non-Nintendo stuff could’ve had more thought. Still didn’t take too much away from overall enjoyment.

Game references: I think this is the thing that made the movie interesting for everyone. Even my mom, who barely plays Mario games, could find references she enjoyed (she loved the training sequence because she said it was an accurate depiction of her playing any Mario game lol). We loved picking out the small things, like the kart selection scene, (which, by the way, I LOVE that they used an A button to signal they were done designing because we all know that is always the pick button, at least in my experience), Kid Icarus showing up, Wrecking Crew being a plot point with Spike as a sort-of heckler; Cat Mario’s sequence was legit just taking me back to middle school and my Wii U days. If there was ever a reason this was made, it was for the long-time fans, and this is where you can really tell. Anyone who is new to the world of Nintendo would probably have very little to no idea about any of this, and quite frankly if you had audiences full of people like that with this movie, it might’ve failed. The reason I enjoyed it so much was because of the little references and because of the small details like this.

In short, this was, quite frankly, exactly what it needed to be. Even Miyamoto himself said this was for the fans; it wasn’t like they cared about the critics, and neither did most others who went. A movie like this isn’t about plot perfection or the best writing in general, it’s about what we love from the Mario series, and the rest of the stuff is a bonus.

I did my best to write this a comprehensively as possible, but I’m not great at long writing, so please feel free to tell me if you couldn’t understand something!

[onceuponastory]

hate to see your heart break - rockstar!bucky x reader

We gotta stitch us back together, if we can, one thread at a time, you know I don’t regret it, when I said I had forever in mind - glasgow by you me at six (I linked the orchestral version cause I feel like it fits this fic better, and tbh I prefer it to the original.)

Plot: Three years ago, Y/N and Bucky Barnes’ almost decade long relationship came to an end. And for those three years, Y/N’s been regretting the breakup and wanting Bucky back, even though she’s sure that Bucky doesn’t feel the same way. That is, however, until a surprising interview with Bucky and his fellow band members changes everything. Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warnings: Mentions of a breakup and being sad about it if that kinda thing upsets you. Also some angst, but a happy ending. Notes: This is for @sunshinebuckybarnes‘s Sunshine Jukebox 1k writing challenge. Congrats on 1k by the way! I chose the song Glasgow by You Me at Six (who are one of my fave bands actually, AND this is one of my fave songs by them. But maybe I’m biased though, cause I’m Scottish, lmao). Also apologies for the kinda cringey band name I chose, I couldn’t think of any other ones.

This is not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Lounging against her couch cushions, Y/N and her best friend Riley chat whilst MTV plays on the TV in the background, neither of them paying too close attention to it. That is, however, until an announcement sounds that makes them both sit up straighter.

“After this next song, we’re going to have a quick ad break, and then we’ll hear the newest single from the band The End of the Line with an exclusive interview with the band afterwards!” A picture of the band appears on the screen, and Y/N’s heart rate rises. It’s been so long since she’s seen anything to do with the band or Bucky on her TV. Then again, it wasn’t like she was actively seeking it out.

“Oh shit.” Riley hisses, quickly grabbing for the remote. “Sorry, babe, I didn’t know they were going to be on. I’ll change the channel.”

“No!” Y/N exclaims suddenly, and Riley looks at her, her brows raised. “No, it’s okay. Let’s watch it.”

“Are you sure? Every other time something to do with Bucky or his band comes on TV, you tell me to turn it off immediately.” She frowns, looking over Y/N sceptically.

“Look, I just want to see how they’re doing and hear their new song! Is that so bad?” Y/N asks. “I mean, they’re all still my friends. I shouldn’t punish them for what happened between Bucky and me. Just because we’re exes doesn’t mean I can’t listen to their music, does it?”

“It is kinda bad when you’re still heartbroken over the breakup.” Riley admits. Seeing the sad look on Y/N’s face, Riley sighs. “I mean, we can watch it…I just don’t want you upsetting yourself even more.” She reaches over and takes Y/N’s hand. “I know it still affects you despite how much you argue otherwise. And I’ve seen the sad look you have whenever you google him to see how he’s doing.” Y/N frowns, and Riley’s eyes widen. “You do google him, don’t you? God, I know you too well.” Riley’s right, of course. Not that she’d ever admit it to her, though. “Babe. I know it’s been three years since you guys broke up, but it’s okay to still be upset and want to avoid him or the band for a while. Everyone heals in their own way and at their own pace.” Y/N sighs. 

“No. It’s okay. I think it’ll be good for me to listen and to see everyone.” She lies. Of course it’s not okay. It still hurts to see anything to do with Bucky because she misses him so much, and she wants him to miss her too. Maybe if he did, they could go back to dating, and everything would be back to normal again. But Bucky seems to be getting on with things rather than dwelling on the past, so maybe she should too. 

Y/N thinks back to the past. She, Bucky and their other friends (and the other members of The End of the Line) Natasha, Steve and Sam were best friends who all went to school together, and she and Bucky started dating just after they joined high school, which also happened to be when The End of the Line formed. Y/N supported them throughout it all, from school talent shows to shows in their local pizza place. As they reached the date of their high school graduation, her friends realised they wanted to make being in The End of the Line a full-time thing, rather than going to college. And not without reason either. After all, there was demand from local competitions and clubs to play there. Once again, Y/N supported them through it as their careers continued to grow and grow. And she and Bucky’s relationship grew deeper and continued as time went on.

Soon, The End of the Line signed to a label and released their first album, with a few small shows in other cities to promote it. Y/N came with them, of course. Those days were the best days of her life. Just her, her boyfriend and her best friends travelling the country in a small van and staying in crappy motels every night, too excited by their new lives and their next show to sleep. And from there, things only went up. The band became more popular, and with that came more tours, including opening for bigger bands which naturally brought in more fans and more demand for shows. Yet through all their newfound fame, Y/N and Bucky’s relationship was just as strong as ever. Y/N started to think this is how her life would be from now on: touring the world with her best friends and her boyfriend by her side, spending every night in a new city.

But life always has other plans. Ones that always get in the way of dreams, and as they got older, things between her and Bucky were no different. Of course, they tried. God, they really fucking tried. It just didn’t work out. As the band grew in popularity, he was always away on tour, and every year he was away for longer and longer. As time went on, it became increasingly less and less possible for her to follow him around the world. After all, they were trying to buy a house together, and although Bucky was earning a lot…it just wasn’t enough on its own. Bills needed to be paid, and Y/N had to get her own job to earn her own living, rather than just living off of Bucky’s money. She still tried to join him on tours as much as she could, but as her working life got busier, she became less and less able to. And after all, there are only so many holidays you can take in a year before being fired. 

Even though she and Bucky still saw each other at Christmas and birthdays, it started to feel like they were slowly drifting apart from each other despite how hard they tried to cling on. It started small, of course: a missed lunch date here, a missed show there…and then as time went on, more and more things were missed on both sides. Bigger things, more important things. And despite how much Bucky apologised for not being able to see her and how much he told her that he still loved her, convincing the little voice of doubt in her brain that he still loved her was a whole other story. Despite how much she tried to drown those voices out with music, her insecurities continued to grow with every cancelled date and cancelled trip: the insecurities telling her that Bucky keeps cancelling on her because he’s falling out of love with her, because surely other, more famous rock stars make time for their partners, so why isn’t Bucky making time for her? Those questions then fed the worry that he was constantly having his head turned whilst on tour. 

She felt awful for even thinking Bucky was the sort of person to cheat on her. Still though, when almost everyone online describes your boyfriend as a sex symbol and leaves increasingly long comments about the things they want him to do to them…it really gets to you after a while. And after a while, she feels like she started to resent Bucky for his lifestyle. Because to her, she at least tried to make things work before cancelling on him, but with him, it seemed like he never tried. Which, of course, led to more arguments, and their relationship became even more strained. So strained it was close to breaking and so strained that neither she nor Bucky tried to stop drifting apart anymore. And then, one day, it all came to a head.

“We need to talk.” Bucky and Y/N speak at the same time. “You first.” She tells him.

“I’m sorry but…I don’t know if this is working anymore.” He admits. “I feel awful for cancelling on you all the time and making all these promises that just get broken. I think…maybe we should take a break for a while.” 

Y/N’s still surprised by how quickly she agreed. But then again…she was going to say the same thing anyway. So, on a random Tuesday three years ago, her almost decade long relationship with Bucky Barnes ended. And she’s regretted it ever since. 

After the breakup, both she and Bucky tried their best to keep things civil and put together for Steve, Natasha and Sam. Y/N still came to see them on tour a few times, and she and Bucky kept in touch every so often. After all, they were still friends before dating, and the last thing either of them wanted to do was tear the band and their friendships with the others apart. However, things got too hard for Y/N after a while, and she became less and less willing to see Bucky, or to pretend that it wasn’t tearing her up inside to see him talking to other women. She wanted to say something back then and to fight for their love, but she decided against it. The break up was a mutual decision, and she didn’t want to ruin Bucky’s newfound happiness. And so, she decided to step back from the band and Bucky. Despite how much it hurts, Y/N knows that she just doesn’t fit into Bucky’s world anymore, despite how much she would’ve tried. 

And now, The End of the Line is more popular than they ever were, with multiple award nominations and even a platinum album under their belts…whilst she’s still stuck in a tedious office job. Although she still texts them all, albeit a lot less than before, Y/N knows that aside from their past, she has nothing in common with them anymore. It’s also been too long since she and Bucky broke up for her to just waltz back into their lives again in the hopes of making things go back to the way they were before. 

But now, the band is on her TV screen again. Y/N watches them perform, and a small smile grows on her face as she watches her friends doing what they love. Sam and Steve are still grinning at each other as they both play their guitar and bass, and Natasha still swings her head around wildly as she sings, causing her red hair to splay out around her. And then, the camera switches to Bucky, his tattooed arms moving rapidly as he plays his drums, beads of sweat building on his forehead. Y/N gasps as her familiar feelings of love return. He’s still so handsome. Riley reaches over, gently squeezing her hand for moral support. The song soon ends, and Y/N smiles. They’re still the incredibly talented people she knew back then. The band soon reappears on the screen, accompanied by an interviewer.

“Okay, so that song was incredible!” The interviewer grins, and the band responds with a chorus of thanks. “Now, I’ve heard through the grapevine inspiration for it came from a lot of heartbreak. Can we talk about that a little?”

“Well.” Steve sighs, clearing his throat. “It’s really Bucky you should be talking to about that.” He admits, and he and Sam give Bucky a pat on the back. Y/N frowns, and she and Riley look at each other. 

“Oooh, I see! Care to explain?”

“Um, sure! Y’know, heartbreak is a thing we’ve all had experience with, and I was reflecting on my heartbreak a lot when I helped Nat write some of this song. It’s based on an old love I used to have with one of my exes. We all knew her back in school, actually….” He trails off, blushing slightly, and Y/N gasps.

“It’s about me?” She whispers.

“Babe, maybe we should turn this off. I don’t know if it’s good for you to see-” Riley begins.

“No! Keep it on, please. I need to know what he says!” Y/N argues back, her voice cracking slightly. Riley stops arguing.

“So she was special to you?” The interviewer asks, and Bucky nods.

“Yeah, she was our first fan, actually.” The band laughs. Y/N doesn’t react. Her brain feels like it’s going at a thousand miles a second. “We were so close and hopelessly in love as kids our age are, but life got in the way, and it didn’t work out for us unfortunately. I do miss her a lot, though, and I do wish things turned out differently.” Y/N’s stomach drops, and Riley gasps.

“Is he serious?” 

“So, you’re saying you’d take her back?” The interviewer asks, grinning like the cat who got the cream. Bucky’s cheeks go red, and he nods sheepishly. Y/N goes silent, and Riley turns to face her.

“Y/N? Sweetheart? Are you okay? What are you thinking?” Y/N’s not even sure if she takes the words in. All she can think about is her and Bucky and everything they left behind. And how the last three years of her life have been a lie. She tried her best to move on from him, thinking that Bucky wanted the breakup…but it turns out that he never did. Now he wants her back, and he has done this whole time? She’s been hoping for this moment for the last three years, and now it’s here. So what the hell does she do now? It feels like she’s had the rug pulled out from under her feet, and she tries her best to make sense of the situation.

“He…he’s been lying to me this whole time.” Is all Y/N can say. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Riley pulls her close into a sideways hug. “I need to see him again. I-I need to call Natasha. I need to talk to him. In person. I need to understand what’s going on.” Y/N gasps, talking quickly.

“Woah, woah, calm down. Are you sure? Do you think it’ll work? I don’t want you getting hurt.” Y/N turns to Riley.

“I don’t know, but I hope it does. I have to know. I have to make this right.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, Y/N dials Natasha’s number. She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, stranger!” her cheerful voice sounds through the phone. “Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Haha, yeah. Sorry about that. But I was actually calling because I heard your new song and thought I’d send my congratulations over. It’s so good. You guys are still so talented.” Y/N decides against telling her that she heard what Bucky said about her. And thankfully, Natasha doesn’t bring it up either, even though Y/N’s sure it’s on every gossip blog and news site across the internet now.

“Awww, thank you, sweetheart! You know…we all miss you. Especially Bucky.” Funnily enough, she knows that already. “You know we’re playing in the next city over in like a week, right?” Natasha asks. Y/N laughs. Know? Of course she knows. She checked earlier, finding it had sold out. That’s the reason why she’s spent the last hour or so scrolling through resale sites, hoping and praying that someone has a ticket available for her. And then another few hours raiding her closet for potential outfits she could wear in case she does manage to make it to the show and somehow manage to turn Bucky’s head in a crowd of thousands. 

“Yeah, I do! I didn’t think I could make it because of work, but by the time I realised I could, tickets had sold out.” She lies. “I’ll come and meet you guys for a drink or something though if you can fit me into your busy schedules. It’s been too long since I saw you all.” Going out for a drink is a good way to see Bucky again. It’s manageable. And at least the others will be there too. She can hear something weird on the other end of the phone, and after a while, she realises it’s Natasha laughing. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that! I can put you on the guest list. It’s one of the perks of being in the band.” Y/N gulps. Being backstage with Bucky again after three years isn’t what she expected…but if this is her only chance to talk things out with him, then so be it.

“Okay, sounds good!” She responds, and Natasha squeals excitedly.

“Yay! Just drop me a text with your address, and I’ll send you a VIP backstage pass. It’ll be good to hang out again! Okay, I gotta go do some more promo, but I’ll talk soon to arrange the details. Love ya!” Natasha hangs up, and Y/N takes a breath, trying to calm herself down. Y/N glances to her bedside table and at the framed photo of her, Bucky, Natasha, Steve and Sam on it.  Bucky’s arm is around her waist, and he’s pressing a kiss to her cheek. She sighs. They were so happy back then…before everything fell apart. Can they really go back to that after all that happened?

But then again, having Bucky back is what she’s been dreaming of for the past three years. And she always encouraged the others to follow their dreams. It’s only fair she encourages herself to follow hers too. And even if things don’t work out, at least she’ll have closure with Bucky. So despite her anxieties about seeing Bucky again, and her confusion surrounding the situation, Y/N knows that she has to see him again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A week later, Y/N is outside the venue and security lets her in. As she walks down the narrow hallway towards the green room, she can feel her anxiety rising at the thought of seeing Bucky again. Maybe this was a bad idea, and she should just turn back now and tell Natasha that she doesn’t feel well? As she’s about to turn around, Natasha and Steve exit the green room. Natasha notices her immediately.

“There you are!” Natasha calls, running up to her and pulling her into a tight squeeze, closely followed by one from Steve, making her feel a little bit better. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to make it.”

“Haha…yeah.” Y/N gulps, laughing awkwardly. Natasha slings an arm around her shoulders and leads her into the green room.

“Hey! Look who it is!” A cheerful voice sounds from across the room, and before she can even react, Sam runs across the room and pulls her into a tight hug. “I didn’t know you were coming! What a nice surprise.” Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks over at Natasha, who grins.

“Wait, you didn’t tell them I was coming? That means…” Y/N’s cut off by the sound of a door opening and a familiar voice, the one Y/N’s had in her brain for the last three years, sounds: “What’s all the excitement about? Steve, did you-” Bucky stops himself when he sees Y/N in front of him, and for the first time in a while, Y/N and Bucky are face to face again. The room goes silent as the pair look each other over, trying to take each other in. Bucky still looks as handsome as ever. In all honesty, it doesn’t even seem like he’s changed that much, aside from a few new tattoos. And the whole being a famous rockstar thing. But even so, there’s still an air of familiarity to him. Like she said before…he’s still the Bucky she always remembered. Her Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” Y/N smiles. Bucky’s cheeks flush slightly.

“H-Hi Y/N!” He stammers. “It’s um, it’s good to see you again.” He opens his arms out a little as if he’s debating whether or not asking his ex-girlfriend who showed up out of the blue for a hug is a good idea. Y/N shuffles forward slightly into Bucky’s open arms, and he wraps them around her back. She feels comfortable in his arms again almost immediately and relaxes in his embrace. She missed him and his hugs so much.

The pair stay like that for a while until Sam clears his throat, making the two pull apart. “So um, what are you doing here? Sorry wait, that was…you’re here for the show, right?” Bucky asks, and she nods, laughing awkwardly.

“...God, these two are insufferably awkward. Cute, though.” Sam mutters from the corner of the room, and Natasha gently nudges him.

“Shh! I’m playing matchmaker, and you’ll spoil it.” She hisses.

“I actually needed to talk to you about something, if that’s okay?” Y/N asks. 

“Oh! Um, y-yeah, sure! We can talk.” Bucky’s cheeks go an even deeper red. He turns to the trio in the corner of the room.

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll go practice before the soundcheck. Right, you two?” She orders, looking between Steve and Sam, who nod before being led (or dragged) out of the room by Natasha. The door closes, and the awkwardness in the room increases. Y/N and Bucky stand in silence for a while until Bucky speaks.

“Can I offer you a drink or anything?” He asks, and she shakes her head, thanking him for the offer and trying desperately to think of something to say before she dies of embarrassment.

“You look nice, by the way. Love the new tattoos.” Bucky chuckles softly, a small smile on his face. The same smile that Y/N first fell in love with almost a decade ago. She was right. Bucky really hasn’t changed a bit.

“Thanks. So do you. You look beautiful, actually. Well, you still do.” He responds, and she swears her heart stops at that moment. Her cheeks flush, and she tries to avert Bucky’s gaze. “So. Um…how have you been? Get up to much?” Bucky asks. She can tell that he knows the question is a dumb one. Of course it is. But when you’re suddenly confronted by your ex, who you’re not entirely sure that you’re over, what else are you supposed to say? 

“...Um, good, thanks.” She flashes a small smile, trying desperately to hide her awkwardness. “And not much. Just working in the office. Like before.” Bucky nods. “How about you?” Again, she knows it’s a dumb question, and like Bucky, she regrets asking it as soon as the words leave her lips. She knows exactly what he’s been doing: Bucky’s been touring the world in a famous rock band with a platinum album…whilst she’s been stuck in an office. She sighs. She was right back then. Despite how much she loves him and tries to fix this, she still doesn’t fit into Bucky’s world anymore. Maybe she never did in the first place. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Bucky asks, his voice softer. She frowns, and he continues. “You look like you’re about to start crying.” Fuck. He reaches into his jean pocket and brings out a crumpled tissue, passing it over in his tattooed hands. As she reaches out for it, his fingers gently and fleetingly brush against hers, and she feels her stomach flutter. At that moment, it’s like the entirety of their relationship comes back to her. And only the good parts. She glances up, noticing Bucky looking at her…almost like he’s going through the same feelings. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he does want to salvage this. She takes a deep breath, looking up into the same pair of silvery-blue eyes that she knows so well.

“Bucky. Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

“I heard your new song. And what you and the others said about it. About me. That’s why I’m here.” Bucky chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Oh right…that. To be honest, I should’ve known you’d ask about it.”

“Do you mean what you said? Do you regret the breakup? Do you want me back?” Bucky stays silent, trying to avert her gaze. Y/N sighs. “Come on, Bucky. We spent the last year and a bit of our relationship refusing to admit the truth, and I’m not going to do that now.”

“Of course I regret it. I always did. I think I regretted it from day one, actually.” He speaks finally. And despite the relief and happiness filling Y/N’s entire being at the thought of having a chance with Bucky again…a wave of anger takes over. Anger that he kept this to himself for three years. Three years that she spent keeping all her pain to herself, thinking Bucky didn’t want her anymore or that he didn’t care enough to fight for her or the relationship. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” She asks. “Bucky, I have spent the last three years pining over our broken relationship and wanting to go back to you, but you regretted the break up from the beginning? And I find most of this out from a fucking TV interview last week?”

“What did you expect me to do? I didn’t know you hated it either!” He defends himself. “And besides, it’s not like you tried fighting for us or coming back to me either!”

“Because I thought you didn’t want it! And besides, I had a life! I had to be the one working the boring adult job while you got to spend your life travelling the world!” Bucky raises an eyebrow. 

“So, you were jealous of me? Is that what you’re saying?” He asks.

“Maybe a little! And you know, maybe I didn’t tell you how I felt because I was scared, okay?! I thought you hated me and that I didn’t fit into your life anymore.” She sighs. “I just had such a boring life back then, and I still do. I guess part of me thought I’d drag you down. Like, you wanted to go party with models and other celebrities, and yet you were stuck with me.” Bucky’s face softens, and he steps closer to her. Bucky takes her hands without another word, gently interlinking his calloused fingers with hers. 

“Y/N, I never hated you. And I definitely wasn’t stuck with you either.” He tells her, his voice softer.

“You didn’t?”

“Of course not. I was always so proud of you for being able to hold down the fort back home when I was away. I used to count down the days until I could go home and see you too. And to be honest, my life is pretty boring without you in it. I tried so hard to find excitement in my life again after we broke up and you left, but I realised it was you I needed. I missed you so badly, and I wanted to go back to you…but I think I was too scared you had moved on from me. I would have.” He shrugs. “I mean, come on! Why would you have someone like me who’s away almost the whole year when you could have someone so much closer to home?” Y/N shakes her head, sighing.

“Because I didn’t want them, Bucky. I want you. It’s always been you.” She tells him, making him smile. 

“I’m sorry.” They both say at the same time, making each other laugh. “Can we start again?” Bucky asks, and Y/N nods.

“I’d like that.” In response, Bucky pulls Y/N closer, gently pressing a kiss to her forehead. Maybe they’ll be alright after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

TAGLIST: @late-to-the-party-81​, @sunshinebuckybarnes​, @thesundrop​ 

[bloodorangesoup]

Ice Cream and Bad TV | B.B.

Request: Late night thoughts : The only porn bucky watches are the ones that come on tv at like 2 or 3 in the mornings. Imagine cuddling up with him on his living room floor, aimlessly clicking around until you stumble upon the channel & he gets flustered & shy about it & you fuck him while porn plays in the background. Like I think it’s so romantic🥺🥺 riding him while the soft glow of the tv illuminates his face. His moans & grunting blending in with the actors 😫😫

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble but I cannot for the life of me control myself)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | cuddle fucking, unprotected sex(pretend ur on birth control for a sec)(still wrap it b4 your tap it), flustered Bucky, porn talk, the tiniest bit of sub!Bucky for like half a second, fluffy smut, you get the gist

My Masterlist

Notes: I did this in one sitting so sorry if it’s repetitive or has any mistakes. I think I have a major soft sport for flustered Bucky. I also had to think of a realistic name for a TV porn channel so bear with me. This is my first time writing smut in non-headcanon form so let me know how I did! Happy reading!

It was 2am on a Thursday night when your phone rang with your boyfriend's caller I.D. This wasn't the first time that Bucky had called you for this instance, it became a routine for you to talk him down after a nightmare and you prepared to do so when you picked up. Usually the first thing you would hear was his heavy breaths, the anxious buzz in his body making him fumble his words as he tried to focus on talking to you, so you were surprised to be met with still breathing and his typical deep, steady voice.

"Doll? You there?"

"Yeah, Buck, I'm here," you replied with a yawn, trying to sound as awake as possible. Bucky could hear the airiness of your voice and let out a sigh.

"Sorry, baby, I woke you up."

"You say that every time, I don't mind waking up for you. Besides, I don't have work tomorrow so I don't exactly need my beauty rest."

There was a pause. You could still hear static from the other side of the call but Bucky didn't say a word.

"Buck? You okay?" As if you snapped him out of a daydream, his hurried words rushed through the phone.

"Yeah yeah, sorry. I'm kind of out of it right now, I had another bad dream."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You had expected his usual answer of yes, then you would listen to his thoughts and comfort him through the horrific reality that were his nightmares.

"You said you don't have work tomorrow? Do you think you could come over right now? Actually never mind, I don't know what I'm saying, it's 2am." You could practically see Bucky shaking his head as he took back his question.

"I'll be there in twenty, James. You better have some blankets and pillows ready for me because we're taking over your couch."

Bucky let out a breath over the line, "See you soon, y/n, love you."

"Love you more," you said quickly before hanging up, not letting him get in the last 'I love you.'

~

Forty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky's lap on his living room floor. You two had abandoned the idea of the couch and chose to make a small fort with the couch as your scaffolding. There was a surprising amount of pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you, you had no idea Bucky even owned them all.

He sat with his back against the couch, your legs laid over his and your arms were around his neck, bringing his head down to your chest. He talked about his nightmare, sparing you the gruesome details, and once he was done he closed his eyes and leaned further into your chest, breathing in your scent. You gave the crown of his head a kiss and rested your head atop his. Comfortable silence washed over the two of you before you spoke up.

“You know what always makes me feel better?” you asked, lifting your head just enough to look down at him.

“What?” he mumbled into your chest. A soft smile graced your face at his cuteness.

“Ice cream and bad TV!” you announced excitedly before wiggling out of his grasp.

You did a little jog to his kitchen and reached down into the freezer to grab a small pint of ice cream you knew Bucky always kept stashed for you whenever you came around. Picking up two spoons and turning off all the lights in the apartment on your way, you quickly made your way back into the living room, lifting Bucky’s arms to situate yourself back into your position on his lap. You popped the lid of the small tub and handed it to Bucky along with a spoon. With your hands now free, you felt around in the dark for the remote and turned on the TV.

Waiting for the TV to completely turn on, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. You hummed at the taste of the cold sweetness coating your tongue. You gasped as you opened your eyes, finding Bucky scooping out some ice cream and lowering it to your mouth.

“Oh wait, let me make this cuter!” you squealed with your eyes wide.

Copying Bucky’s actions, you took a spoonful and lifted it to his lips, the both of you opening wide and feeding each other. You giggled at the cliché moment and Bucky couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how adorable you were.

You turned back to the TV, lifting the remote in your hands to change the channel to anything but the news that was already playing on the screen. As you flipped through sports recaps, music channels, infomercials, and movies that were already almost over, you sighed.

“Ugh, there’s nothing good on. Maybe if I start from the end of the list there’ll be better stuff,” you huffed.

Before Bucky could register what you said you had already typed in the biggest number you could enter and began flipping down through channels. Surfing through the empty screens, you landed on one called HotNet and suddenly the screen was completely taken over by a pair of boobs which then cut to a woman on her back and a man on top of her, rutting into her at a slow pace, while her moans echoed throughout the apartment. You quickly shuffled with the remote, trying to turn the volume down from it’s loud setting, spooked at the loud, obscene noise coming from the speaker.

“Oh my gosh, I wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed into Bucky’s chest, “God, I hope your neighbors didn’t hear that.”

Bucky stared at the screen with wide eyes, hoping you would change the channel before noticing that the channel was in the On Demand section. You gasped through your laugh, collecting yourself before turning back to the TV and shaking your head.

“Jeez, I didn’t even know they still had porn like this on public television.” You looked back down at the remote, clicking the Guide button. Bucky’s heart stopped as the description took over the screen, the video still playing in the top right corner. In bold letters the words On Demand titled the card. Even worse, the bottom of the screen displayed a small box containing the information,

$19.99

purchased with debit card xxxx-9758

You furrowed your brows in confusion, realization slowly softening them, before a mischievous smirk took over your face. You lifted your head to look at Bucky, his face looked down at your lap, refusing to meet your eyes. You tapped the bottom of his chin with the remote, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Did you order TV porn, Jamie?” He could hear the teasing tone in your voice, and you only ever used that nickname when joking around, yet Bucky still felt extremely embarrassed. He felt as if he just got walked in on while touching himself. It didn’t help that it was you that saw it, he wanted to crawl in a hole and never look back.

“Ah, you’re blushing,” you squealed as you took his cheeks in your hands, “oh come on, it’s not that embarrassing Bucky.”

“Ugh, can we please pretend you didn’t just see that,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes to escape your stare. He set down the ice cream next to him and lifted his forearm over his eyes.

You let out a breathy laugh, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself and pushing up to swing your leg under you to the other side of his lap, you straddled him.

“Hey, it’s really not that bad. I mean we’ve had sex before Buck, I think you’d rather have me find this than Sam or someone else.” He let out another groan and lowered his head to lean against your neck.

“Angel, please don’t talk about Sam while you’re on top of me and there’s porn playing on the TV.”

You laughed and ran your hands down his arms, letting one of your hands run up behind his neck and weaving your fingers into his hair. You gripped the back of his head and gently tugged him back up to face you.

“Why,” you sang, deciding to have some fun with him in his flustered state, “is this turning you on?” you whispered the last part.

Before he could respond you leaned down and kissed him. You didn’t bother to start off slow as you usually would, Bucky could taste the hunger from every parting of your lips. His hands gripped your waist, you rocked your weight forwards to rub against him. Bucky’s head clouded, his senses felt overloaded in the best way possible, your movements mixed with the sounds of the moaning coming from the TV were getting him hot. You pulled back before getting too carried away, a smile on your swollen lips.

“So, baby, tell me about it.” You said. It was Bucky’s turn to furrow his brows and he cocked his head to the side in question, mind still foggy from the feeling of you grinding on him.

“What kind of porn do you watch?” you clarified, looking at him like you just asked what his favorite color was.

“Uhm, you want to know about that stuff?” Bucky looked at you with caution, feeling out if he should listen to you or not.

“Well, yeah. I mean I don’t know how it was back then, but most people nowadays watch porn. It’s not super taboo to talk about it,” you explained. You weren’t going to force him to talk about it if he really didn’t want to, but your desire to hear what Bucky was into was strong.

He hesitated for a moment, looking in your eyes and seeing curiosity clouded with lust. He cleared his throat.

“Well, pretty much this stuff,” he gestured with his hand to the TV before putting it back on your waist, “there’s this girl on there, she kinda looks like you, so I buy the videos with her.” He closed his eyes and internally groaned at his words, he didn’t mean to come off so perverted. God, you had already found his porn, the last thing he needed was for you to be thinking he was a creep.

“Y’know that’s actually kinda sweet,” you giggled, “what do you like about those videos?”

Feeling a bit more comfortable knowing you weren’t grossed out, Bucky continued.

“I like the ones where it’s dark and slow. It’s usually quiet and there’s candles and stuff,” he explained shyly. Of all the surprises that came with dating Bucky, you had to admit finding out he was into romantic porn was one of the biggest ones.

Bucky cleared his throat again before questioning you, “Do you watch porn?” He felt almost wrong asking that. He knew that women in this age were more sexually liberated, but the words still felt sticky in his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, of course I do.” Bucky seemed surprised at how casually you answered. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking you to go on.

“Well specifically, I actually really like the videos that are like this,” you said, your head looking down at you straddling him, he followed your gaze, taking in how nice you felt on his lap. You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest. Your faces were so close your noses were almost touching. You could feel his rapid heart beat under your palm and the quick rise and fall of his chest. “Do you ever watch the ones that look like this, Bucky?” He looked up at you and nodded with wide eyes, his pupils were blown and his mouth was open like he was searching for the words to respond.

You grasped his jaw in your hand, your thumb on his chin, and looked him in the eyes. You wanted nothing more than to jump his bones, but with the newfound knowledge you had, you took your time with your actions. Within the last five minutes, Bucky had revealed to you not only that he liked soft, romantic porn, but that he also watched a specific actress because she looks like you. The one goal in your head was to fulfill his fantasy the best you could at the moment.

With his head still in your hand, you held your eye contact as you let your knees move out, grinding yourself against his growing erection. He let out an involuntary whimper. That was the last straw. You pulled his face to yours, joining him in a hard, yet loving kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your chest against his, trying to get as close as possible.

Bucky’s dick was painfully hard. He couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of you on top of him. His body felt like it was on fire, he was insatiably horny and couldn’t control the way his hips bucked up to grind with you. He felt like a horny teenager the way his mind was filled only with images of you naked, imagining you like that on top of him like you were now.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, keeping your pace slow as you glided it across and bit at his lower lip. A moan made its way out of your mouth and into his as you felt him buck up against you.

You slid your hands down his chest, fumbling with the hem of his shirt before his arms raised, giving you access to peel it off him, throwing it up on the couch. Bucky kissed down your neck, licking over the shell of your ear, and sucking at the center of your throat. He reached down and slipped his hands under your shirt, sliding up and down your waist before gliding up and lifting your shirt over your head, discarding it with his.

Bucky wasted no time reaching around you and unclipping your bra and dragging it down your shoulders. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them with his large hands before bringing you into another tender kiss. Despite your frantic movements, there was a spark of passion cracking through the air, the both of you desperate to feel each other closer.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily and resting your forehead against his.

“I wanna make love to you, y/n, please, let me make love to you,” he groaned with a slight whine in his voice. He sounded like he was about to crack.

“Please, Bucky.”

You leaned back on your hands and lifted your hips, giving Bucky the room to pull down your shorts and panties in a few swift tugs. He quickly got up on his knees and pulled down his sweats and boxers, sitting back down and tugging them off his legs. You reached your arms forward, Bucky grabbing a hold of your wrists and pulling you back to straddle him again. You gasped at the feeling of his cock under your bare pussy, your wetness from all the grinding and kissing making you slide over him.

You leaned forwards, capturing his lips between yours and raising yourself up on your knees. Reaching under yourself, you gripped his cock, wet with your arousal, and lined him up with your cunt. Bucky gripped your hips as you sank down on him, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from rutting up into you. You stayed like that for a second, adjusting to the way he filled you. Seeing the remote lying on the floor, you grabbed it and slightly turned up the volume, only enough so that you and Bucky could hear the actress in the video being ravished by her co-star.

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you began to slowly move up and down over him, riding him just as you had told him you liked to watch. His hands moved up from your waist, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples in between his fingers. You let out a hiss as he rolled them between his fore finger and his thumb, tugging on and rubbing his thumbs over them. He reached around to grab your ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks and you used him to pleasure yourself.

You were a moaning mess over him and he wasn’t much different. The room was filled with the sounds of the porn playing on the TV mixed with the sounds of your own cries of pleasure. If the neighbors hadn’t been woken up by the TV, they sure were by you two.

Bucky sat back on his knees, his hands slid down to your thighs, moving your legs from under them and wrapping your legs around his back. His arms worked their way back up to wrap around your waist, bringing you ever so close. The new angle pushed him even deeper up into you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, giving you access to all the sweet, desperate sounds falling from his lips.

You were now pushing up with your feet behind him, rolling your hips over his. The new technique made your clit rub over his pelvis, the sensation making you throw your head back and let out a deep moan. He took the opportunity to continue kissing your neck, going lower with every lick and bite. He sucked at your collarbone, leaving a deep purple mark in its place.

Suddenly, he was using his arms to lift you up, not pulling out of you, and laying you down on the blanket-covered floor. You instinctively locked your ankles together, pulling him closer as he thrusted into you. Bucky had his metal arm holding himself up while his flesh one squeezed your breasts, feeling them move with his thrusts. He lowered his head to your chest and licked one of your nipples, grazing his teeth over it before taking it in between his lips and sucking. Your hands flew to the back of his head, singing praises as you wove your fingers into his hair. He continued to alternate between your breasts, leaving love bites around them and sucking on their sensitive peaks.

You could feel your body buzz with anticipation, you were so close. The moans escaping your mouth were lewd and uncontrolled. Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around your waist, lifting your chest flush against his.

You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him. Nothing felt better than making love with Bucky felt. This was definitely not the first time you two had been intimate, but none of those previous times had ever been like this. You could feel the passion flowing through his body into yours. You looked up at his form over you, how beautiful he looked with the light of the TV screen glistening against the beads of sweat on his forehead. There was absolutely nothing in the world compared to having him, in all his beauty, to yourself like this.

Bucky’s heart was exploding in his chest. What had started out as an embarrassing, nightmare-fueled night had turned into the most intimate experience he ever had in his life. Love was already established in your relationship, but Bucky had never truly made love to you. He looked down in awe at your disheveled state, at the way your hair was sticking to your forehead, at the way the only light in the room gave you an angelic glow. He wanted nothing more than to give himself completely to you, to make you come all over him.

He leaned his forehead against yours, pushing his face forward once every few seconds to kiss you. He was close, and he wanted you to come with him. He leaned into you even more, his cheek pressed against yours, his lips next to your ear.

“I love you so much, y/n, God, you feel so good. I love you, I love you,” Bucky’s voice was deep and strained, his words being emphasized by each push into your wet pussy. You let out another loud moan.

“I love you, James,” you whined as he hit your sweet spot, “I love you so much.”

Bucky’s hand wedged itself in between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit and gently rubbing it. You were completely overwhelmed, this is what it felt like to make love to someone. Your body began to shake and your breathing became erratic. Bucky thrusted harder, working to push you over the edge.

“I want you to come in me, Bucky,” you gasped as his thrusts got faster and lost their rhythm.

Your mouth turned open in a silent scream as you came. Bucky felt your walls clench around him, squeezing the life out of him. He let out a shaky groan as he fell over the edge. His eyes shut tight and his body tensed as he spilled into you.

Wrapping his metal arm around your back and securing your body to his, he rolled on his flesh shoulder onto his back. You went limp against him, laying your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat slow down. He was still buried within you, connected to you. Letting your eyelids fall shut, you savored the feeling of being full of him and his love.

You lifted your head to kiss his jaw.

“I’m glad you called me, Bucky. I love you.”

“I am too, doll. I love you more.”

[maythewidowtakeusall]

SUN-KISSED Pt. 2

Part 1 | Part 2

Read on AO3

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Wordcount: 2894

Warnings: alcohol

Summary: An argument with your boyfriend Steve Rogers is the perfect incentive to go out drinking with Natasha.

It's sunset again, Natasha notices, but she pushes the thought down as your fingers tangle with hers. You tug on her arm and she follows you silently, pathetically at your whim at all times, even when she knows she should tell you it's a bad idea. Because it is. She doesn't trust herself sober around you, and she's scared of what a few drinks will do.

But you're adamant, your mascara smudged under your eyes from crying earlier. She hates it, she hates Steve for making you feel so bad about yourself, about your work. You're fucking amazing, and though she respects the old man, she's not going to let him do this to you. He can stick his second world war virtues up his ass.

Despite the considerable force you're pulling her along with, she stops you, spins you around, curls an arm around your waist tightly to hold you close. She can't help but smirk as your eyes widen.

She probably enjoys this too much. But it was you who called her.

You watch with confusion as Natasha licks her thumb and swipes it across your cheeks gently, wiping away the last telltale signs of your argument with Steve. Your eyes shine more brightly than they usually do, but otherwise you look perfect again, even with your tousled hair and carelessly thrown on leather jacket.

"There."

"It was the mascara, right? I forgot about that," you say with a sheepish smile that soon drops, the feeling of your cheeks heating up deepening your embarrassment. It's the proximity of another human being, or the two shots of tequila you had back at the Avengers Tower, or the fact that at least she genuinely seems to give a shit about you. At any rate, it feels soothing after all the jarring words you and Steve threw around earlier. You need a girls' night out, you need to be told not to overthink things, to let loose.

And the moment you stormed out of Steve's room, you knew who you had to turn to. You knew it was only Natasha you wanted around and no one else.

She didn't protest. In fact, she dropped her plans at a moment's notice to go out with you. She promised to take you to a dive bar, one she knows like the back of her hand that has good drinks and even better prices. It's close to her place, and you will crash there afterwards. She said will, not can. She's not letting you go back to Steve in the state you are in, the state he's put you in.

And you are perfectly alright with that plan.

The Coyote is a small but handsome place, with soft blues rock whining in the background, furnished with tables and bar stools from a bygone era. There's a pool table in the back, a woman in her fifties tending the bar with a frown as one of the patrons knocks his drink over. You stand in awe for a minute as the bartender - who also happens to be the owner of this particular dive - berates the man in front of her for spilling his beer. "You think I want to clean up after you all night, Larry?" she throws him a disdainful look before muttering under her breath as she fetches a rag to mop up the beer that bleeds down the wooden surface just like your mascara ran down your cheeks not so long ago. "Fucking lightweight."

"Well, what do you think?" Natasha smiles, pleased to see enthusiasm stealing behind your eyes.

"I love it. It's so..."

"Vintage?" she helps. She knows you love old things in the most adorable way. You love everything that is vintage, everything that takes you back to times you never lived in - buildings, furniture, streets, monuments, museums... People. Old people too, she reminds herself bitterly.

"Yeah," you smile.

She matches your smile, knowing eyes drinking in your improving mood greedily. "Wait til you've tried their drinks. Holly prides herself on only keeping the best of the best."

The night is a lot slower and more mellow than what you expected. You wanted wild, you wanted to force the thoughts out of your mind, you wanted to be exhausted, maybe even blackout and start over fresh tomorrow. But you're just tipsy, the alcohol filling your body with a gentle buzz that's not at all unpleasant. You and Nat have paced yourselves, and you talk, and fill the booth you took for just the two of you with genuine laughter and ease. She matches your teasing tone when you joke, indulges you when you steer the conversation to deeper waters. However, you've been tiptoeing around Steve, and the argument, but Natasha unravels you, and she listens to what you have to say, and it's fucking difficult to admit, but she seems to understand you more than Steve ever did - so you cave in when she puts a hand on your forearm. It feels right, too right, but her question distracts you.

"So... Should we address the elephant in the room or is this the point where we pick up the pace a little?"

Your shoulders sag when you realise you don't really want to get drunk. You don't want wild. Or reckless. Lights out, with the bittersweet relief of not remembering a god damn thing about tonight. You just want this moment, even if it is difficult to open up to her. "I don't know what to say."

"I do," she quips. "Steve's a moron."

You laugh, despite everything, and it makes her tighten her grip on your arm encouragingly for a second. "He's not a moron. But he did act rather moronic today."

"I think you did well on the mission," Nat declares, leaning back and lifting her glass of beer to her lips.

"I was reckless."

"Those are his words, not yours."

"Yeah... The thing is, I don't feel guilty about what I've done at all. I calculated the risks, and I trusted my abilities to see me through the job. Mission accomplished - even if my tactics were questionable from a strictly military perspective."

Nat nods, and a silence settles over the two of you as she draws patterns on the cold wet glass in her hands. It's comfortable, and her wordless agreement wraps around you like a warm blanket. Your gaze meets the attentive green emeralds of her eyes, and you swallow thickly. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's your loneliness, but she looks so fucking beautiful in the dim light of the bar, green military style jacket slipping down on one shoulder to reveal her black tank top. You shouldn't, you shouldn't, and you can't help it, and she frowns softly, trying to read your thoughts. And you worry, you worry she can read you easily, you worry she can open you up and trace the lines of your attraction to her with her fingertips.

Because that's what this is, you realise. Attraction. No matter how fucked up it is, no matter how angry it makes you at yourself. Steve's back at the Avengers Tower dissecting the argument in his head while worrying about where you've slipped off to. But you know he doesn't approve, not even his guilt can make him see that you shouldn't have to justify your every move on missions. You're far from helpless, and yet he treats you like a damsel in distress. Like you're less than him in a way, just because you weren't injected with the super soldier serum.

You want to be treated as an equal. In the team, in your relationships, during your missions. You want to be seen for who you are - a capable person, an effective agent, a force to be reckoned with, a mind that can easily keep up with the rest of the Avengers. Alas none of them really see you that way, and Steve is no exception.

But Natasha is.

The cab ride is quiet, you two sit in the back, eyes somehow glued to each other, Steve forced to the back of your mind as an unpleasant thought by what you feel for Nat in this very moment. You wonder if this feeling has always been in you, hidden, denied, labelled impossible and maybe even shameful. She reaches across and gently places her hand in yours.

And for whatever reason, you don't pull it back.

You've never seen her flat before, but it's everything you've expected. Laid back yet angular, stylish yet chaotic, inviting yet intimidating. It's an effervescent mixture, just like she is, and she pulls you inside without a second thought, exposing her hideout as if you came here every other day, as if letting you in her most private corner of the world was absolutely normal.

The thought of it makes your insides burn with a feeling you know you shouldn't allow to even exist.

It's late, but you're both hungry, and you make sandwiches in the small kitchen while joking and keeping the conversation light, amicably bumping your shoulders together. It hurts, for the both of you, to see the what ifs, the what could bes, the life you can't have but suddenly seem to crave. She accidentally smudges some pesto on her finger and licks it off. You lose your mind. You eat. Hunched over the tiny kitchen table, you feel yourself sober up completely. You're exhausted, but you don't want this night to end. Neither of you have done or said anything inappropriate, nothing has happened here for which you should apologise to Steve on the next day. And yet it's the most comfortable and loved you've felt in a long time.

You feel self-conscious when you wipe your makeup off in the quiet seclusion of her bathroom, a pair of her sweatpants and an old band t-shirt waiting for you, neatly folded, on top of the laundry basket. You expose the dark circles underneath your eyes, along with all the imperfections of your skin, and your lower lips trembles at the thought of having to bare yourself in front of her. Your body is shapeless after you've changed into your makeshift pyjamas (you try not to think too hard on wearing her clothes). Your hair, released from the tight updo you've forced it into is messy and loose now. To be fair, it was messy before too, but it's not really helping your confidence right now. You will have to leave eventually, and face her, and you're terrified of not seeing the same light and warmth in her eyes when she looks at you, the same smile she always wears on her lips whenever you're around.

She smiles even wider than usual when you emerge. The simple explanation would be that you're beautiful - it's the truth, without any embellishments whatsoever. The more complicated one she doesn't allow herself to dwell on, so she nods towards the bedroom and you follow her, even if a little forlorn.

"I don't often get guests," she smiles, sitting in the edge of the bed. The room smells of clean sheets and her perfume. "And even when I do, it's Clint, and I'm making him sleep on the sofa. But I'm willing to make an exception for you."

"Oh, you shouldn't," you protest as she stands. "The sofa is perfectly fine for me."

"It's alright, I don't mind-"

"Please-"

"It's no fuss-"

"This bed is big enough for the two of us anyways."

A small, awkward silence settles on you as you stare back at one another. If Natasha feels as bewildered as you do, she hides it well. Her head lolls to one side in thought, eyes assessing you. She seems content with whatever she's found in your gaze as she shrugs and sinks back down on the bed.

"Don't even think about hogging my blanket."

You regain your composure and grin, unable to feel uncomfortable around her any longer. You plop down on your belly unceremoniously and starfish on the mattress, and you can almost see her roll her eyes at you even through your closed eyes. You sigh as the firm mattress rises to meet your tired bones. "Ooh, I'm never leaving this bed."

"Move," Natasha nudges you, and you oblige her as you roll on your back. She lays next to you, and you stare up at the ceiling, glow in the dark stars blinking back at you in the dim light.

"I used to have those on my bedroom ceiling as a kid," you smile fondly.

"I didn't exactly have a conventional childhood. Figured I had some ground to cover on that front," she murmurs softly, lost for a moment in her memories. Your quiet laugh draws her back to the present and she's so very grateful for that. So very grateful for you.

"Well then, this is a good addition too, our little sleepover."

"Oh, yeah?" she grins, rolling on her side as she props her head up on a hand. "What do you want to do then to make it memorable? Gush about our crushes? Have a pillow fight? Play spin the bottle? Truth or dare? Get drunk? I have a bottle of wine, we could do that."

Your eyes land on her soft lips and you imagine daring her to kiss you. You imagine what it would be like to draw her in, to give in to the feelings inside you, to deepen the kiss, blame it on being drunk, trail your lips down the length of her neck...

But you could never do that to Steve.

"I think I've had enough excitement for tonight."

"Suit yourself, love."

Does she look disappointed? You don't have enough time to ponder as she nods and pulls back the covers to wrap them around the both of you. She then reaches to switch the lamp off on the bedside table and settles down beside you. You're still facing each other, and in the darkness you can see the outlines of her smile when your eyes adjust. She puts a hand on your shoulder, gives it a little squeeze. She's upset, she really is, she was so close to reeling you in, trapping you, telling you all she's been wanting to say for months now. But she's proud of you. For being loyal, for not breaking the trust Steve put in you even though you could do it without consequences. She'd never tell on you. But somehow, your silent refusal has made you even a better person in her eyes than if you would have given in to the kiss you've both obviously wanted.

But this all must be very confusing for you. Your week was an emotional rollercoaster, and she just wants you to be okay. "Wake me if you need anything."

You nod, and satisfied, Natasha turns to her other side. It's difficult, being so torn, wanting love but not knowing where you're supposed to get it. Overwhelmed by everything, you seem to spiral into mild panic. You don't know this place, and Steve is a stubborn asshole, and you just want to feel safe and sheltered for a single night, is that too much to ask for?

You scoot closer to Natasha, letting her feel your warmth first before you tentatively snuggle up to her from behind. She lets you, deathly still as if any movement on her part would scare you away. You slide your hand on her waist, afraid to go too far.

She takes it and wraps it around her midsection.

You don't talk about it in the morning. The sun shines brightly as you sit together in the kitchen. Coffee. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Slipping slices of tangerine to one another. A long hug before you leave.

And somehow you both feel a little less when you're apart.

You have much to think on, you both do. You don't avoid Steve when you get back. You go straight to him and you ask him for a break. He deals with his heartbreak as he soldiers though every hardship in his life - lips pressed together, emotions repressed, stiff nod straining his neck, regret shining in his blue eyes. But you need this. You need this, because he deserves better than to be lied to. Than to be led on. So does she.

Weeks pass. Missions come and go, all successful. You work together professionally, there's nothing forced. Tony remarks on the sudden drop of temperature in the room during a mission briefing where you and Steve sit in opposite ends of the room, but Natasha steps in and whacks him on the back of the head with the file in her hand and that's that.

You go to the top floor of the tower one evening, the staggering height's isolation comforting you now more than scaring you. You sit there for a while, watching the sunset, when you remember Italy, 3 months ago, stopping to marvel at the sunset, Natasha by your side.

And then you know. You just do. You need more time to accept it, of course. Probably even more time to act on it. But in the meantime, you can't stop thinking about her feeding tangerine to you in the morning, fingers brushing against yours as she passes the slices to you.

Tag list: @fayhar

[silvercrystalwhump]

Little thing based on an idea for Ash

@ashintheairlikesnow owns all of these characters I just an idea one day and decided- Hey I'ma write this. Enjoy

TW: implied noncon, noncon photo taking, general bbu warning, Owen Grant exists

-

Vincent drums his fingers across the wood with nails bitten to near bleeding. A hard drive sits on the table in front of him, almost eating at his eyes by simply existing. It’s red, and the word Memories is written on the side. His eyes bore into the table, wanting the hard drive to combust and leave his life.

“You know I could always see what's on there?”

James, the only person other than his therapist to know about Owen, leans by an open window. The sound of Blue Jays singing outside dances through his words like background music on set. The only reason he had the displeasure of knowing about that migraine-inducing part of his life was that Vincent forgot to watch his liquor intake at an event and vomited out his entire life story to James in one night. Needless to say, he woke up the next morning with a hangover that could kill god and a very concerned James who knew too much.

Vincent shakes his head, “I am fairly certain I know what's on this, I don’t want you seeing that.”

James doesn’t respond, “I have an incinerator at home. You can just get rid of it there.”

“If it’s not I’ll be destroying something I actually like.”

Vincent did not even know why he had him come over. After he saw the handwriting he just went on autopilot. “Could you drive down about five minutes down, there’s this small coffee place that makes pecan pie flavored coffee, can you go get me some?”

“Sure,” James says, “Do you want me to go so you can do this alone and I can come back later or?”

“No, I just need you out of the house for maybe 15 minutes, it’s not like you probably have already figured out what I think is on this hard drive.”

James shrugs, “You want something to eat too?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Vincent hears James’ keys jungle quietly and the door opens. He can hear his footsteps walk down his porch. As he listens to James’ car start, Vincent puts his head in his hands. His finger knit into his hair and closes, threatening to rip the follicles right from his skull. I really don’t want to see this. He exhales as he hears the car pull out of the driveway and his gate slide closed.

Inhale, he closes his eyes and fumbles the hard drive into the laptop. Then, exhaling, he opens his eyes.

USP Pot In-Use. Transfer 486 GB of data onto this device?

Half a terabyte of data just sitting on a hard drive. A hard drive that was in the button of one of Vincent’s bags for months. Vincent starts to chew on the inside of his cheek, hands trembling near the mouse pad.

Yes.

Not enough storage for transfer. Preview file?

Yes.

A handful of files transfer to his laptop. Some files were named with dates, some with pet names, some with actual event titles but all were photos. Vincent closes his eyes and opens one simply labeled Coffee. The actual photo itself is just him sitting in one of his old dressing rooms back when working with Owen. There is a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner of the photo. This was definitely Owen’s phone. Owen’s phone always had a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner no matter how much Owen wiped it off.

The photo looks like it was taken at an awkward angle. Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose and mutters, “So he stalked me long before the incident, I stopped working there months before it happened.” The other handful of photos are similar; pictures were taken without Vincent noticing, usually at work. The last one was in his own house, but it was during a party he remembered that he invited Owen to.

Then a video pops up only labeled with a date.

Vincent reaches up and mutes his computer, and slowly presses play on the video. It starts with Owen muttering something before sticking his phone up and peering through a window. The video is of Vincent sleeping, and it lasts for nearly 30 minutes before the phone is dislodged, and the video finishes.

The next set of photos and videos are dated during his time with Owen.

He gets through three before rushing to the bathroom to puke.

-

When James gets back, Vincent has seen enough. He was right. It was Owen’s hard drive, and somehow he got a hold of it. James hands Vincent the coffee and the bag.

“I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot what you said about food so I just got you a scone since I was listening to the radio talk about the new federal policy on box boys.”

Vincent took a sip of the coffee and raised an eyebrow at James, “Something changed?”

“The emancipation law, it was signed by the president a week ago and the changes went into effect today,” James says as he sips his own coffee, “If you own a box boy for over a year and they meet a handful of prerequisites you can emancipate them and give them legal citizenship.”

“I honestly thought it would get shot down.”

“Well since the senator that was so against it was voted out this election no one else has objected,” James says, and he pulls up his phone, “Well the owner has to be the one to sign them for emancipation. Senator Grant was her name wasn’t it?”

Vincent takes a bite out of the scone. He swallows both the scone and a thought.

“Does it say anything about private transfer?”

“I think you just have to have their papers. Why?”

Vincent looks down at his food, and an idea pops into his head, “What’s Senator Grant doing now since she’s not in office.”

James shrugs, “Let me see if anyone said anything?” He taps on his phone, the little buzzes echo around the room like flies to trash. James pauses, “I’m pretty sure she’s just at home preparing for the next election why?”

“I think I might need you to help me make a phone call.”

-

Weeks later, Vincent paces, listening to James talk on the phone in the other room. He could not physically hear Owen’s voice through the phone without falling apart.

“That’s my ear,” James says sarcastically, “Do you agree with this or not?”

Silence.

Click.

James knocks on the half-open door, “You alright Vincent?”

“Are you done?” Vincent asks, tighter than a spring.

James nods, “After the screaming he agreed, do you want me to go over with the papers so you don’t have to see them?”

“Please, I’m more than likely already going to have to be on a phone call with his Mother and that's stressful enough.”

Vincent opens the door of his study and steps out, “I need a drink.”

“It's noon Vincent.”

Vincent has one hand on the liquor cabinet and chuckles dryly, “Perfect.”

‘Vincent, no.”

Making dead eye contact with James, he pulls a bottle of sweet tea vodka out of the cabinet and pours himself a glass. James sighs and shakes his head, “I thought Dr. Brycan told you not to drink.”

“He said that I need to wait until at least noon since I used to drink from dawn until dusk unless I had work, it’s 12:01.”

“Didn't you tell me that you’re probably going to get a phone call from the ex-Senator today,” James says, stepping back, “I think you want to wait at least until then so you're sober when you two talk.”

Vincent pauses with the glass halfway to his lips. He sets it down just hard enough to hear it but not hard enough to crack the crystal. Vincent grumbles, “Fine,” and walks back for his study to wait by the phone.

-

“You do know this is blackmail, Vincent,” Mrs. Grant grinds through the phone, “And that is illegal.”

“So is paying off someone to hide criminal charges. He either takes the deal or I take this half terabyte hard drive filled with evidence to court and get the press involved, his decision.”

“How much do you have to pay you,” she says after a moment.”

“No amount of cash will buy me over, he either takes the deal or I contact my manager.”

Silence through the phone. Vincent’s nails dig into his jeans. The woman on the other end of the line can’t see the tears pouring down Vincent’s face. One thing acting taught him was how to keep his voice steady for clarity in a microphone. The only difference here is that the microphone is in a phone rather than on a long stick.

“We’ll think about it,” she finally says.

“You have until Sunday.”

“Fine.”

Click.

Vincent holds the phone up to his ear for a second before dropping it onto the table. His head falls into his hands, and he sobs. His mind, blank yet filed with too many feelings, recoils under its own weight. Tears that had been held back for months spill across contract papers and blot through blank ink. The ink spread like blood across bed sheets.

-

“Are you sure you don’t want me to knock his teeth in?” James asks as he holds the contract and transfers forms in one hand and a Sprite in the other, “Because I will and want to.”

Vincent shakes his head, fingers drumming across the velvet seats of the limousine he almost forgot he had. When did I even buy this was the first thought he had when he dug through contacts. “No, just go inside, get him to fill out the forms, and come back. Then we go home and I gorge myself on M&Ms and fudge ice cream.”

James laughs, “Room numbers on the card right?”

“Yes.”

-

James steps out of the car. The condominium looms over the limousine, and James bites through white-knuckled rage as he steps into the lobby.

Guess who’s standing there waiting for him, Owen Grant, and his mother. James steps up to them, “Grant, correct?”

Owen looks surprised and gives James a quick not-so-subtle scan, “Are you who Vince sent, I thought he was coming?”

“Do I really need to explain why that will never happen?”

Mrs. Grant gives James a glare to rival the sun’s wrath on gingers. The demeanor shifts almost instantly to a more business appeal, “Well allow us to get this paperwork sorted out as painlessly as possible.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

How long does it take to sign papers? James thinks as he watches Owen go through the forms. These are pre-filled out records; he just needs to sign in three spots. Pen scratches against the paper, Owen’s friendly demeanor evaporated when he reached the final form.

“Why this of all things?” he grinds out.

Neither of the two people answers him. Owen finally tosses the form and an orange file in James’ direction. “All of Kauri’s paperwork; if Vince needs anything else, he’ll have to contact WRU directly.”

James scoops the papers off the table, flipping through them; he looks to make sure Owen didn’t deliberately miss any signatures. An extra envelope sits in the orange file. James pulls it free and waves it in Owen’s face.

“What’s this?”

Owen, stupidly, answers, “A goodbye letter since I just filled out a no contact agreement, I want to give my final goodbyes if you will.”

James rips open the envelope and takes out the letter but keeps in anything that may be important.

“That’s for Vincent’s eyes only!” Owen snaps.

“And that hard drive was for your eyes only wasn’t it? I got Vincent’s consent to look through these forms.”

Owen and his mother glare daggers at James as he tosses the letter back onto the table, “Goodbye.”

James can still feel Owen’s teeth grinding gaze on his back as the door closes behind him.

-

Jake answers the door, “Hello Vincent.”

“Is Kauri here?” Vincent asks as his fingers shift around the orange folder.

“Depends,” Jake says, leaning against the door frame, “What do you want?”

Vincent sighs, “I called Natalie yesterday and---”

“Just let him in,” Kauri’s voice echoes from inside the safe house, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jake pierces his lips and steps out of the way. Vincent steps past him and enters the safe house. Natalie had told him to make things as quick as possible, and if Kauri told him to leave, he would. Vincent agreed. Now he simply hoped that he would be able to get this across without being told to leave.

Kauri steps around the corner, a look of tired anger sits behind his eyes.

“Kauri I’m so---”

“Skip the bullshit, Nat said this would be quick.”

Vincent nods and forces the new wave of guilt back into his stomach, “A few days ago, I was able to… convince Owen to transfer ownership of you to me. I want to ask if I can transfer you to anyone else for your own security, so you are entirely out of Owen’s grabbing range.

Kauri stands there with an expression of absolute disbelief. Then, finally, he opens his mouth to speak before stammering, “I said quick but not one sentence, elaborate.”

“Well, to put it in simply I was going through some of my old stuff from during the incident. I found a hard drive with nearly half a terabyte of… evidence that could be used against Owen,” Vincent says as his shoulder tense at memories he wishes to be buried. “A friend of mine brought up the new box boy emancipation law and after that I got an idea. This friend, who I vomited out my entire life story to black out drunk, was willing to help be the liaison between Owen and me. After a telephone call between Mrs. Grant and I, we got the papers signed and so now I have all of your paperwork under my name.”

“Okay?” Kauri says with disbelief still in his tone in tiny blips, “Then why are you talking to me, just leave me alone and I won’t have to worry about Owen.”

Vincent chews at the inside of his cheek, “Here’s the thing, what I did is, in the eyes of the law, black mail. While he could be charged with the same thing, if he took me to court one of the first assets taken for compensation are box boys. So, you could stay under my name but I don’t trust that he won’t try to get you back by either suing or doing something. My question now is, is there someone who you trust enough for me to transfer your ownership form to.”

Kauri pauses. The gears shift in his head for a moment before he looks past Vincent and back at Jake. The widest shit-eating grin nearly splits Kauri’s face in half. He looks over Vincent’s shoulder and laughs, “Hey Jake, want your own Romantic?”

Vincent looks over his shoulder and sees a very exasperated, tired, and just downright flustered Jake.

“I- um- Kauri- I- please don’t wrd it like that, that makes me sound terrible.”

“And.”

“I- mean in order to keep Owen away from you then yes I will but please don’t,” Jake stampers, “I don’t and won’t own you.”

Kauri pushes past Vincent and boops Jake on the nose, “Congrats you get your own boxie.”

“Kauri, please.”

Vincent clears his throat and interrupts, “While I am used to being third wheel um I know you all want me out of your hair so I have the forms with me and after they are signed I will do the heavy lifting with WRU.”

After a second, Kauri chuckles before walking away. Jake just watches as he leaves, a sigh escaping his lips, “He is never going to let me live that down.”

“If you don’t want to-”

“No no,” Jake says, “I will, he's just teasing. What do I have to sign?”

[evakuality]

Mia, episode ten

1.  I like this little pile of girls she has going on here (and I love that it was recreated in s4).  I really do enjoy this group together and it’s nice when we get to see them all in one group like this.  ‘If he found out through someone else, that’d be worse’ - yeah it would, and I’m glad someone is finally working out that talking to each other is the best way to deal with things.  The most frustrating thing about this season so far (apart from the Noora bits) is how so much could have been avoided if people just actually spoke to each other rather than making assumptions.  I don’t feel like this was as big a problem in the other seasons.  Hanna was built around how unhealthy this behaviour is and Matteo was actually relatively good at communication, at least in ways that didn’t end up with this sort of issue.

2.  Druck: here are some shots of this school.  Me: 💜💙💜 - every damn time.  I really really love this school and its environs.  It’s such a great place to create interesting shots and scenes in!

3.  Okay, this bit seems better than the og.  I absolutely loathed that William refused to listen to Noora at all and chose instead to believe someone who is absolutely 100% proven by him to be an asshole and manipulative.  Here at least a) Mia genuinely did go and do something with Bjorn kind of on purpose and b) Alex is at least willing to talk; he hasn’t entirely shut her down.  Alex has far more genuine reason to be upset in this case (she chose to hang out with Bjorn rather than go see Alex after all unlike Noora who was at William’s house and sort of pressured into doing stuff against her will while she waited for him).  So the fact that Alex, while clearly hurt, is still willing to listen is a good change.

4.  Hmm, this is a very interesting shot of Mia.  Her costume is so dark and the background is so dark that her face stands out so starkly against it.  It’s another sort of black and white thing, except that where Mia and Amira were both black and white (signaling that both had aspects of each), here Alex is white and Mia is black (meaning they’re framing him as ‘right’ here).  I don’t necessarily love the way this season (and the og) tried to frame the William character as a misunderstood lovely guy when they both acted like absolute dicks.  But I do like the way Druck uses costuming and cinematography.  

5.  I don’t think any of this backstory really absolves Alex of any of what he did or how he’s acted.  But I will say, the acting is very nice and the things he’s talking about are quite poignant.  Clearly, Bjorn shows all the signs of a classic abuser and this must have been a hard thing for a young guy to watch.  But I guess the issue is that in order to stick to the og, Alex had to act like a similar sort of guy.  Which doesn’t make sense.  If he was as badly affected by all of this stuff as it seems he was, why start acting like the same sort of guy as the one who did this?

6.  Interesting that by the end of the clip we’re back to a share of the black and white.  Mia is absolutely in the right here, so this ‘nuance’ bothers me (there really is no reason for Alex to beat up Bjorn, and Mia’s right - she should be the one to deal with this in this instance).  But I do like that again, Druck is using colours and light (there’s a lot more light on Mia and a lot more dark around Alex by the end of the clip) to make their point.  It’s not absolutely one I agree with but I appreciate what they do with this stuff.  It was great in Hanna’s season and it’s great again here.  ‘Honestly Mia, this thing hasn’t worked between us from the start’ - hmmm, for once I agree with you, Alex. This is/was a high school romance that lasted for a couple of weeks.  They’ll both get over it and move on, particularly if they’re going to be in different places.  One thing I do like about the s4 stuff is that the show does acknowledge that and allows them to split up.  That’s just life.  That doesn’t mean they weren’t important for each other, but just that it was something that was with them for a short time, and it doesn’t have to be more than that.  I know that isn’t how this season ends, but overall I like where it goes.

7.  Oh, the often-talked-about ‘beanie boy’ scene.  Sad that I have never seen this episode and yet I recognized it from what Jonas is wearing.  Yes, I’ll admit it: I am a David fanatic and I’m so glad he had this little moment in this season.  Also, Hanna my dearest love looks so lovely here.  I’m not surprised Jonas hasn’t got himself over her yet.  I mean, look at her!!!  I do like how awkward this is.  Hanna did the moving on, she grew up and made a decision and it’s great that it worked for her, but I have been in the place where the other person wants to be friends but it hurts too much so I get Jonas as well.  This is a hard situation and I have to heap praise on the acting once again.  They’re both doing such a a great job here of selling just how tough this is.

8.  I have very few thoughts about the whole ‘sitting around smoking’ thing except that those glasses really suit Abdi!  But big sigh... here we go having Amira being the ‘reasonable’ one and telling us what to think about Alex.  Like Sana. she’s supposed to be the moral centre of the group and so we’re supposed to listen to her, and she’s telling us that we should understand him because of what he went through.  But there’s no nuance here again - yes, he went through something really awful and yes he has some qualities that aren’t entirely awful.  But he still did some manipulative and often plain horrible things and he shouldn’t get a pass for those just because he has a sad backstory.  If he actually did something to make up for what he did, if he acted like he was sorry rather than ‘right’ (again, a hangup from the og so I get it, but I still don’t like it), then I might have some sympathy for this line of reasoning but as it is ‘he has a sad backstory’ isn’t the ‘gotcha’ these shows think it is.  And ‘Jonas is actually worse than Alex’ is SUCH a terrible take.  Is Jonas perfect?  No of course not, but at least he didn’t deliberately do a lot of the awful things to girls that Alex did.  He at least genuinely liked both Leonie and Hanna when he was with them, and didn’t string them along for cheap sex.  Why do they always use the Sana character in this way?  Kiki of all people has the right take here.  It’s not up to outsiders whether they should or shouldn’t be together, but rather the two of them.  All we can do in the end is support our friends.

9.  Interesting placement with the message now being ‘follow your heart’ - again, I personally don’t think we should be making such a big romantic deal of this whole thing but if we listen to Kiki (rather than Amira’s ‘all men are assholes’ thing) then I guess we should applaud her.  This whole thing has clearly been difficult for Mia and it’s good that she wants to fight for what she wants.  Again I’ll slip in some praise for the acting - Druck (as with the og of course) really did seem to find some talented performers and then coaxed some lovely performances out of them.  

10.  Wow, Matteo even looks thoroughly uninterested in Sara even at this point.  How did she not pick up on it?  I do feel for Sam, though.  She wants a boyfriend and what she gets is an Abdi which was just a hook up thing really.  I wish we’d got to see her find someone good for her in all ways (and I’ll also never be over that we never did get resolution on some of Matteo’s and Amira’s stuff either... oh for even a short one-off like the abiball where we got some sort of closure).

11.  In really shallow news, I love this place where Mia ia talking to Alex - it’s really cool and with the lighting and graffiti it looks really interesting.  However, I know I talk a lot about pacing, but her again is an example of the issues I have with it.  I know they had to condense 11 episodes from the og (some veeeeeery long) into 10 more evenly sized ones.  But, this reunion in the last few minutes of the episode seems really rushed (though I am grateful that it’s not like the overly dramatic car reversing after William was yet again an asshole to Noora that we got in the og).  Alex is still talking about how Mia doesn’t trust him, how much they fight etc etc and Mia is calling him out for all the awful things he di at the start (which he continues to deny!!!!!!).  And it’s all true, and they don’t have time to actually talk about it before we get whatever fairytale they’re going for here.  It’s too short.  They could or should have rearranged a few clips (particularly earlier in the season) so we could get a better and stronger resolution of the problems they’re raising here. ‘Yeah we’ll still do and be all those things’ isn’t the romantic ideal they’re suggesting.  They still don’t communicate properly, which I personally would have liked to see before this big reunion.

However, overall I much preferred this ending to the one in the og.  William was a much worse character in the last episode than Alex is here.  I don’t like him, I don’t think he’s a good match for Mia but I do appreciate that he didn’t do what William did in the final episode.  And Mia was more at fault than Noora was and so there’s more balance between them.  I’ll never like this type of relationship, and I’ll certainly never like the Alex type of guy, but at least there was some acknowledgement of the issues and some suggestion that they can work on them together.  

[giuliafc]

Betrayal -- Chapter 19 and 19bis: Inside the Mind of a Criminal (snippet dal 30) + Pigella (LadyNoir July day 30)

<< 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 – 16 – 17 – 18 -- 19: Ao3 || FFN – 19 bis: Ao3 || FFN -- 20 >>

Betrayal Chapter 19: Inside the Mind of a Criminal

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Agrestebug and MyImaginationFlows

Summary: We learn the background story of Lila's father, Richard Sphinx, the new Papillon, and how he's going to be much, much worse than the first one...

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

TW: mention of extreme manipulative and obsessive behaviour and cruelty against family

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Well done, Lila. Now head back to the monk and get his staff. If there are more jewels like these, we need to get our hands on them!" Richard sat at the desk of his office, staring at the nothing in front of him. His elbows pinned on the wood of the desk, his face resting on the length of his hands. His body was wrapped in a purple and grey suit and a grey mask covered his face, making his green eyes shine.

Briefly, he broke contact with Lila's akuma and stood up; he slowly paced the room to the fireplace. His gloved hand picking up a photograph on the mantle, portraying a woman with short brown hair wrapped in an elegant blue tailleur.

He still remembered the day he'd met Melania, Lila's mother. She was a petite Italian lady who exuded elegance and genuineness at a celebrity party. She looked so out of place, and her cheerful smile was like a breath of fresh air in the hypocrite atmosphere of the ball room. He still remembered his burning passion, how much he'd wanted her—her and all she represented. She was the daughter of a rich Italian family of ambassadors, with excellent connections all over the diplomatic world he wanted to be part of. When his charming politeness managed to raise her interest, he thought he'd hit the jackpot.

Their story had been short but intense, their relationship the final tassel in the puzzle that brought him to the limelight. Before their engagement of 5 years ended, FERG, his company, was quoted in the stock exchange. Quickly rising to be one of the top companies in the market.

Everything was perfect. Then, Melania fell pregnant and had her baby. For reasons that Richard couldn't understand, she somehow started distancing her husband — him. He suspected that the accusations of him having committed several cases of fraud, and having caused several suicides, may have been part of it. But Richard had done it for her. Nobody else was important in his mind. He had to protect his family. He had to protect the people who mattered for him. How could Melania not see that?

"You're a heartless monster!" she accused him instead, when she tried to leave him and go stay with a friend; but he found her almost immediately and locked her up in her room.

The more he clenched his grip on Melania, the more the woman became distant, almost terrified. Eventually, she dared to ask for divorce and deny him the rights to see his daughter.

"His obsessive behaviour is harming me and my daughter! I'm afraid for our safety, Your Honour," she told the judge. "Only the money is important to Richard! He puts his company before the safety of his family."

Needless to say, she won the case. Since then, she kept as far away as possible and had tried to keep Lila away from him too. She had changed her surname to the plain Rossi, and changed her job many times. Until Lila was old enough to make her own decisions, she succeeded at keeping him away.

But Lila was a clever girl. Her thirst for power and her quest for attention were second to him. She knew what was important in life, that power and money were the only things that mattered. As soon as she had gained the use of a mobile phone, she contacted him (lying to her mother). They had been plotting against Melania ever since.

Now it was their time to obtain their aim. When Papillon trusted Lila to be his second in charge, Richard advised his daughter to gain as much information as she could about those powerful jewels that gave him power. Now all that hard work was paying off.

He squeezed Melania's photo in his hands, breaking the frame with his strong hold. How dare she run away from him? How dare she disregard his burning passion?

"You don't love me, you think you own me," shouted Melania when she left him, taking away his only daughter with her. "I don't want you to be a bad influence on our daughter. You terrify me."

How dare she. She was his wife, his other half, his property.

"You're mine. MINE. No judge can take you away from me."

He stared in a daze at the blood flowing from his gloved hands, where the shattered glass of the photo frame had pierced the skin underneath the suit. His eyes gleamed of madness. "I will be victorious. I will get the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir. And when I have the most powerful jewels in the world, you will come back. You will love me again. If you won't, I’ll force you to."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Gabriel closed his eyes as he placed a single red rose between Emilie's palms and squeezed her hands gently before closing the glass cover of her coffin one last time. He rested his hand on the glassy surface for an endless moment; the hand of Lieutenant Raincomprix falling on his arm way too soon for his tastes. He sighed and gave one last glance at the peaceful face of his sleeping wife.

"It's time to go, M. Agreste. Mlle. Sancoeur," said the officer.

They had spent a long time talking to SentiAdrien in Adrien's room. The boy had confirmed most of the wrongdoings that his teachers and friends had accused Gabriel and Nathalie of, and had pleaded completely non guilty regarding any involvement in his father's terrorist activities.. M. Raincomprix had decided to be safe, and was arresting both Gabriel and Nathalie.

"Mlle. Sancoeur will most likely be released when the heroes witness her double agenting, but better safe than sorry," said Raincomprix.

Gabriel glared at him as the officer moved his and Nathalie's hands behind their back and handcuffed them. He shot one last, languid glance at the blonde figure in the coffin, before having to follow Raincomprix and walk away.

To be continued… Day 30.2 — Bonus chapter

30.2 - Betrayal Chapter 19 bis: Pigella

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Agrestebug and MyImaginationFlows

Summary: Ladybug struggles to understand how to win against the vacuum akuma, but Volpina has to eventually face (temporary) defeat. (1687 words)

Written for the LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly Day 30 — Rose.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Hey, Vacuum Lady, Aren't you tired of collecting dirt?" shouted Chat Noir as he used his baton to propel himself up. He smirked and added, "Probably not, since you've got Volpina with you. She's the biggest piece of dirt in existence!"

"How dare you," hissed Volpina and the Vacuum akuma at the same time before they both followed Chat Noir out of the way.

Ladybug gazed at the two akumas following her partner gratefully; then she put her hands to her temples and closed her eyes shut to concentrate. She picked up her communicator and dialled Alya's number.

"What's the plan, Ladybug? I saw Chat Noir jumping away with the akumas, I thought he may be trying to distract them."

"You were correct. Listen, Alya, I need you to use the water dragon. Water passes through surfaces so you will reach me in no time," whispered Ladybug to her Bugphone.

Alya smirked. "Right-o, I'm on it!"

Just seconds after their conversation, Ladybug saw water seeping through the barrier of books that towered in front of her. And, in a whirl of magic, Dragonbee Alya appeared in front of her. She wore a red outfit with the symbol of the dragon at the centre of her chest and curvy golden lines separated the red from sections of gold and black stripes. Her hair was combed in a twirly ponytail that looked like the sting of a bee. Ladybug didn't waste time and picked up her phone again, dialling Chat Noir's number this time.

"Chat, bring your whiskers back here immediately, before your transformation wears out!" she said before he could even say meow. With a gracious jump, her partner was again by her side seconds later.

"M'lady called?" he asked with a little smirk that Ladybug would have loved to take off his face with a kiss, but she knew perfectly well it wasn't the right moment.

"Alya, Chat and I’s timers are running out, we must be quick. Use the wind dragon and swoop us out of this alley and back on a rooftop."

Alya's eyes gleamed. "As you wish, Ladybug. Wind dragon!" Ladybug and Chat Noir were wrapped in a current of wind and next thing they knew, they were on a rooftop next to Nino (or rather, Thueban Jameel (1), as he has called himself), far away from the Library Maze but still keeping it in sight. The two heroes hid behind a chimney to release their transformation and feed their kwami without being spied on, and in no time they were up and running again.

"Okay now…before the akumas find us and we get stuck into that maze again. Lucky Charm!" called Ladybug. A red and black polka dotted single rose fell into her hands. "What?" she muttered, scratching her head.

"Are we going to declare our love to a vacuum cleaner?" was Chat Noir's snarky comment. But before Ladybug could say anything, the rooftop they were standing on disappeared and they all fell on the ground, facing yet another massive wall of books.

"Shoot! Here we are again…" cursed Ladybug.

The vacuum akuma reached them as well. "There you are, you fools. Did you really think you could escape? What a bunch of idiots! Tricksters, like that thief. I'll sweep you all away from existence. I wish I didn't always try to help people. I wish my heart hadn't been so kind. I'll take all the tricksters away, so maybe my boss will forgive me. I need my job!"

The four superheroes had to forcefully separate again trying to escape from the strength of the vacuum's sucking power. Before jumping off, Ladybug took a good look at the akuma and noticed that the akumatised object must be a book, which the victim was holding in her hand to create the vortex of sucking power.

Something in what the akuma had said was nagging at Ladybug. As she ran to hide from the vacuum, she went back to what the akuma had previously said: someone had stolen a book from her library and she was upset about it.

"What do you mean by trickster?" she asked when the akuma reached her once more.

A smirk popped on the victim's face. "That liar tricked me. He told me a sappy story about his family and convinced me to lend him the book without opening an account, but in the name of someone else. He promised me he was going to bring the book back in a couple of days. I'm too nice, too gullible. I wish all the tricksters would disappear!"

Ladybug's gaze fell on her lucky charm and her eyes widened. OF COURSE! How could she be that stupid to not realise before? She unified Kaalki and Tikki, becoming Pegabug. Then, with a smirk on her lips, she called for a 'Voyage' and jumped out of the maze, stepping inside the Couffaine's boat.

"Ladybug? Is there something wrong?" said Rose. That was a strike of luck: Rose was in Juleka's room, but her girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. "Jules is in the bathroom, if you're looking for her," added Rose when she noticed that Ladybug's gaze had darted around the room.

"No, I was looking for you, actually." She opened her yoyo and took out a pearl anklet. "Rose Lavillant, this is the Miraculous of the Pig. I need Pigella's help to win against this akuma."

Rose grabbed the anklet and put it on, allowing Daizzi to come out in a buzz of magic. "I still can't believe how cute you are," said Rose when she looked at the little kwami. Then, she muttered the transformation phrase and changed into Pigella.

It didn't take long for Pegabug and Pigella to find the vacuum akuma again, just in time to see Chat Noir being sucked in the vacuum when he got distracted by their arrival. The sound of Ladybug's scream echoed in the empty alley of books.

"You've got another one with you, Ladybug? I'll suck her in too!" drawled the akuma victim. But Pigella's gaze had a determined gleam.

"Why is your heart so full of sorrow? You should rejoice and be happy!" said Pigella with the sweetest of smiles on her face.

"Don't get close to me! I'm going to suck you in!" warned the akuma, but Pigella didn't just get close to her. She hugged her. The akuma was so baffled that she got petrified on the spot.

"Gift," murmured the pink superheroine and in a flash of light, a beautiful scene appeared in between the two girls, picturing a room full of books and everyone loving each other and being nice and friendly with each other. The akuma victim had tears in her eyes.

"Why are people so nasty? Why do people do wrong things, like lying or stealing? I want everyone to be happy!" The akuma leaned in Pigella's embrace and hugged her back, dropping the book that created the vacuum in the process. As soon as the akuma's grip on the book weakened, Ladybug caught it. She broke the book to release the butterfly, which she hastily captured, cleansed and released.

"Bye bye, little butterfly," said Ladybug as the white insect flew away in the sky. Then she picked up the lucky charm and threw it in the air, releasing the kaleidoscope of ladybugs. The instant Chat Noir reappeared, she was in his arms.

"I'm purr-fectly okay, M'lady," said the feline but this didn't stop the polka-dotted heroine from crying.

"Why do you always die for me? I don't want you to do that anymore!"

Chat Noir smiled softly as he hugged her tight, then he broke the hug to wipe her eyes and stroke her cheek. "I'm sorry, ma Buginette. I'll try to pay more attention, okay?"

"This new Papillon seems very dangerous, especially because he has a cunning fox like Volpina at his side. We need to pay even more attention than before!" said Ladybug as she hugged him again. He patted his hand on her back, gently drawing circles on the material of her suit.

"I'll be okay, as long as I'm with you," murmured Chat Noir into her ear.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"I'm very disappointed, Volpina." Richard's voice was tense as he spoke through the ethereal connection of the butterfly. "We were so close to achieving our goal, and now we have to start all over again! I've no time for losers!"

Far away on a rooftop, Volpina lowered her head and closed her eyes, clenching her fists. "I'm sorry, Father! I still have my Miraculous though, and the akuma."

She groaned thinking back at how Pegabug had immediately found the tracker she'd put on Su-Han's bag. She had completely underestimated how strong and skilled the monk was, and she hadn't been able to steal his staff. Besides, Su-Han seemed to have the annoying ability to see through her Illusions, which she really didn't expect.

"I will come up with a new plan to submit to you, Father, don't worry!" she said, seething in a low growl.

Richard's stern expression didn't soften. "You better. Did you get Melania to sign the document I gave you?"

Volpina took a paper from her pocket and looked at it carefully. It was a request to cease school and start homeschooling, signed by her mother. It had taken her much more than just a trick to obtain her mother to scribble her signature without noticing what it was all about. "I have it here. I told her that the school will be closed because of all the attacks and that I would stay with a friend of mine for some time." Pain flashed through her eyes as she added, "I doubt she would have noticed anyway, as busy as she is with work."

Richard smirked, hearing the hurt in Volpina's voice. "Worry not, my daughter. When we make the Wish, she will have all the time in the world to dedicate herself exclusively to us." His smirk widened when he felt the strength of her emotions. "Together we will succeed."

He cackled, and from her rooftop, Volpina sneered.

To be Continued… Day 31

Notes:

Thueban Jameel: "Beautiful Snake", from the Arabic for beautiful, "Jameel" (جميل) and the Arabic for snake, "Thueban" (ثعبان). (Thank you so much to my Beta, MyImaginationFlows, for her assistance with Arabic!) The peacock is the symbol of beauty, so I thought it would fit.

Author's Note

Hey! Here it is, this is a bonus chapter I had to write because the snippets didn't give me enough space to wrap up the battle and all loose ends. It's a second part for chapter 19, based on the LadyNoir prompt for day 30, "Rose". Let me know what you think of it.

I hope you will like it anyway and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter!

You're lucky today because you're getting even the epilogue and the end of the story. So… until I finish updating that, a temporary 'bug out'!

[talesofnovembria]

Are you worthy?

The game had begun.

Two had already taken off into the depths of the castle, eager to begin their search. It was expected of those present to make their way out of the central room to the rest of the building, just as those two had done… but she hesitated. This was a game, but relatively anything in regards to an end goal, or even rules had been left a mystery. All the contestants had were a vague idea on where to go from this starting point.

Use your head. You don’t know what to expect, none of us do. It would be smarter to work together.

A tiny voice crawling in her head managed to point out the obvious, “It’s a game. There can only be one winner.”

He was right, of course, but there were a couple problems with that. For one, this was a game of honor. Any other sort of scenario like this one, it would have been smarter for her to go on her own, prepare herself for the inevitable conflict, and there was nothing to solidly deter her away from that in the present situation… except for one thing. Looking around the room at the others here, only two of whom she recognized.

And recognized was not the same as knowing them. What were they capable of? The Divine King had made it very clear this event came with risk, and all of them had still made the conscious decision to attend. It seemed to be one of the aspects that had all of them on edge before the announcement of the game’s beginning. It wasn’t hard for her gaze to wash over the others and feel that with not only her background, but her line of work, might give her some kind of unfair advantage. What could any of them do to her?

And where was the honor in that?

For two, the very threat of some kind of unknown risk. Again that nagging question came back… what were they capable of? Spirits and humans in a world where the very rules of existence were so unclear. How would they protect themselves? A worrying feeling sank into her very being. If this were her own team, she’d leave no man behind. They were a team for a reason.

The blue haired girl, Vivi… the blond with one metal arm, Arthur… and a spirit tinted to the color of blue, who’s name she didn’t know. They were the only ones currently left in the room… in a way, her team… but only if they saw it the same way.

And that led her to be the one to address them first, “I don't know about the rest of you, but I think we may stand a better chance sticking together. See what this place has to offer. If you'll allow me, I'll go where you do."

Arthur had gone up to the Divine King, not only to make sure he was alright, but to see if maybe there was some more information the host of the event might have to offer to them. He only confirmed what she assumed, that this was meant to be a free-for-all. Only one winner.

At one point or another… it must be expected that they would turn on one another. A sickening feeling in some regard.

But one good thing had come of focusing on him first. He’d been the first to agree with her, though proposed an idea of his own. Splitting into two smaller groups. There was safety in numbers… but he had one point. Even if the four of them aimed to work together, they could cover more ground if they split up. He had also brought up the prospect of looking for the others as well, though that plan wasn’t as desirable. All of them had to remember they were still part of a game.

If they came across the others, then fine, but they should also look to give themselves a fighting chance rather than spending all their time looking for someone else.

She hadn’t paid much attention to what the blue spirit was doing, though her attention had finally retreated from her own inner thoughts when Vivi spoke up, "We have no idea what could be waiting for us out there.  We don't know if we'll be strong in numbers, but it's worth a try."

She had paced ahead, coming to the now unlocked doors that lead to the rest of the castle. She’d given a glance over her shoulder to ensure the other three were coming, “Come on then! Let’s get this show on the road!”

Well, she certainly had enthusiasm to share.

This really was the team then?

The blue haired one taking charge.

The skittish, but caring, blond.

The bone covered spirit in formal wear.

And an unusual canine companion.

A strange combination, and yet fitting in a way.

"It seems the decision has been made then," she mused more to herself than the others in the room. Once she had also come to the doors, she offered a passing glance to the other two members of their team. Eventually, they came back to Vivi, "It would be a good idea if we also keep track of where we are and where we have been. At least that way if we come across something that may be dangerous, we have somewhere we can return to. I'm open to suggestions on where we go first."

Vivi hadn’t offered a suggestion, but her ears turned to listen to those behind her.

"Would... do you want to... maybe partner up with me for now...? While we look around. Or-- I mean if you'd rather with one of the others that's fine and all I just.... Yeah...."

“I’d love to go with you.”

"Let's go, big guy. You follow me for now, okay? We'll see what we can find."

It seemed those two had made their decision, but there was no need to press the issue. She’d simply remembered her first thought. So long as they were helping each other out, then this was a tactical way of seeing more of the castle grounds before they found their way back to one another. Rather than try to press the issue, she accepted it. Calling over to Arthur, "I'll go off with Vivi then for now. We can always meet up later and compare findings. Good luck you two."

He waved, calling back to them, "Good luck to you guys too! I'll try to pick up anyone we run into if I can."

From there, they went their separate ways.

Salena hadn’t noticed until too late that Vivi was no longer with her. A mocking tone whispered through her head, “Nice going. Not a few minutes in and you’ve lost your new partner. Good job mutt.”

Hush.

She should turn around, look for Vivi… but she should also take part in the actual game. The girl looked like she could take care of herself, if their one interaction prior to this was anything to go off of. She… should press on ahead for now. They were bound to meet up again at some point.

So long as she was beginning her exploration, it was best to take navigating in a methodical approach. She should start with the current floor, but that line of thinking could always change.

How… unsettling it was she found herself in the throne room first. The room was pristine, stone under her feet and along the walls. The space was enclosed, yet light seemed to flood in from around her. Stained glass made a multitude of colors shimmer in the stone room. There were smaller spirits here, simpler than the Divine King, or even the one that had gone off with Arthur. They noticed her when she entered, but had largely gone back to their cleaning duties.

So these spirits were the King’s his staff in a way. They were ignored for the time being, as they didn’t appear to be a threat.

At the very center of the room was the throne itself, adorned in gold, vines and sunflowers decorating the seat. There were ancient symbols here, ones neither one of them could understand. This kingdom was unique, and it would be foolish to assume that even in Alexander’s massive library, there would be anything on these designs. Statues lined along the walls, giving the whole room a beautiful, but regal setting.

Not like the frozen throne that flashed no more than a split second. That’s in the past.

Her feet carried her closer to the throne, her fingers tracing over the symbols, as well as the soft texture of the sunflowers’ petals. They were old, but somehow still full of life. A shine in the corner of her eye caught her attention. There, in the center seat was a crown. Golden… decorated in jewels.

Her name echoed from what felt like every surface in the room. She found her fingers laced over the top of the piece. This had to be the Divine King’s crown yes? Why then were they chanting as if she were meant to take it? How could she? Was it just part of the game… or were they tempting her? It was a role unfitting for her, one she’d never want.

She never deserved a crown upon her head… she didn’t even deserve to be here in the first place.

It was becoming unbearable. Too many voices buzzing around in one spot. Silence them.

The beast pushed herself to her feet, leaving the crown in its place. She couldn’t take it, and she dared not to look back at the reactions of the spirits pushing her to make her choice. Their hums filled her ears as she walked towards the staircase in the back of the room. She’d noticed it briefly before other things had called her attention.

“I thought you said you were going to take a methodical approach to this exploration thing.”

And I am.

“You’re going up a flight of stairs.”

Look, the upper floors are bound to be fewer than the ground level, so I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom. That still keeps the methodical approach in mind.

“Whatever you say dear.”

He faded into the background again, just as another shine caught her eye. They’d been scanning around the area as she had her internal conflict. Every room could hold something important, even the staircases, so best to see if there was anything that looked out of place or unordinary. What she’d managed to find was a… pin? It was golden in color, but nothing around here showed any hint as to what this might have gone to.

Or at least, nothing did until she had gone up a few more steps.

There were more of those spirits there, a white pillar towering over their smaller forms. They were trying to pick up some smaller objects along the ground with their… what she could only assume were hands. That made her raise an eyebrow. Weren’t they spirits? Could they not pick up anything regardless of the item’s size? Were the ‘rules’ here really that specific? A soft sigh passed through her lips, gathering two more pins to go with the one she’d already found.

Her hand seemed to hover over the gem resting with them. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary gem… but looks could always be deceiving. Even he knew that. He’d probably have her move on from here, untrusting of something that honestly looked similar to a prison of his own.

How he hated his time trapped in that tiny crystal.

Thankfully they were not alone. Surely these spirits could understand her, and therefore answer a simple question, "That gem. Is it dangerous?"

A shake of their heads. With that confirmed, she took it into her arms.

There was one little other tidbit of information the spirits had spilled: His Majesty would be rather upset if he found out they were irresponsible and dropped it on accident.

That in itself seemed so… out of character. Granted, it’s not like the man wasn’t capable of getting mad, but rather it seemed silly to get upset over an item like this. It was just by itself, and on display… and it wasn’t dangerous. Well, if that was the case, might as well help out.

“Oh yes, let’s waste some time worrying over a little display rather than continuing on our way.”

And like most of his backseat commentary, she ignored that comment.

The spirits offered no help, but it seemed simple enough to figure out. There were three pins, two gold and one silver, with the silver one being longer than the gold ones. Ok, so it made sense then that the two gold ones would go near one another. The silver one must be like a support pin for the gem, which would leave the smaller ones being used to hold it up. It didn’t take long to put everything in place. She stood back from her work…

Only to be showered in confetti… Now where did that come from?

She just went with it, ignoring the snickering echoing in her head.

"Well, at least the display is fixed. Probably don't want to leave this laying around for the Divine to find hmm?"

As if one could sense this, it had made the proper cleaning items appear, working on the mess. Meanwhile, the other one had another plan. It had dropped something in her lap… a key? No clue as to what it had gone, just left with her before they disappeared. Guess that was her cue to leave, but not before she made one final remark.

A waste of time was this?

“Hush mutt.”

The key was tucked away into one of the pockets on her shorts, making her way to the top of the stairs. Just as she got there, a voice made her look back the way she came. There was… someone younger coming towards her, with… white hair? She crossed her arms, “Might want to watch where you are going unless you want to trip, or run into someone."

That advice largely went ignored, the stranger coming to her. She held a flower in her hands, one that was offered to her, "For you! Everybody gets a flower!"

"Alright? Thanks?"

And with that she was on her way. That was…

“Strange? Unprompted? Odd? Take your pick.” She shook her head, taking the flower as she tucked it behind her ear. Might as well keep the small gift that was offered to her. Finally, she could get back to the path she’d begun once her first foot hit the stairs. There were hallways, but there had to be another staircase around that would lead her to the top floor. She can check the rooms on this floor when she was done on the upper level.

Sure enough, she found what she was looking for. Nothing caught her eyes this time, though the sound of windchimes in the air filled her ears. She closed her eyes, listening to the calming tune.

It’s almost peaceful here.

“Don’t let your guard down. There’s no telling what will happen.”

I know.

What stretched out before them was a balcony, three separate areas to choose from. Yes, this would make for easier searching, then she could return to the second floor. There were only three rooms, and if they were hidden this far up, there had to be some secrets kept here. Items of mystery and value, although cliché, were usually in a basement, or on the highest floor. The same seemed to ring true here. She had her options laid before her, though one room in particular drew her attention towards it. A calling perhaps? She’d gotten feelings like this before, so it wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

Salena pushed the door open, her gaze falling on a sword. Magic seemed to pulse off it, a light glow surrounding it as she stepped into the room. From what she could tell, the sword was made by an expert. She had a specialty in crafting weapons herself, but there was power radiating off this one, even if it was stuck in stone. There were… runic symbols? Something carved along the blade itself. This certainly put a fair amount of her work to shame.

A voice echoed softly around her.

Such A Furry Little Face....You Have Come So Far, Haven't You, Dear One?

...

Tell me...Are You Worthy?

Worthy? There was an easy answer to that, yet instead of answering with that response she stepped closer, "Worthy.. that in itself is a very vague question. Worthy of what? Of the blade before me? Of the Divine's blessing should I win? To win? I could go on.."

Worthy Of Whatever You Feel You Are Worthy Of...I Am Merely A Weapon To Be Used By Whoever Finds Me. I Shall Carry Out Whatever You Feel Worthy Of, Whatever Means That Much To You.

A sword in a stone. It was here because it was meant to be pulled out by someone yes? Someone worthy from the sound of it. So then why was she wrapping her hand around the hilt as if she thought she might be able to pull it out?

"And what if I believe that I'm not truly worthy of anything?"

Then You May Choose The Path Of Unworthiness. It Is A Painful Route To Take, Dear One.

A tingle of what felt like static sparked under her fingers. A sense of panic began to wash over her, “Let go of the blade.”

That just made her grip it tighter. Teeth grit together, ears pinning back against her head, a slightly strained voice released from her mouth, "You say that as if I don't know that road. It's one I chose to walk long before I came here. I don't understand it, probably never will. How can others see worth in someone like me when I can't see it in myself?"

The static feeling began to race up her arm.

.....You Have Already Felt That Pain, Yes?

Her arm started glowing. Glowing a bright yellow that shone even from under her long sleeved clothing.

“Salena! Let go of the damn sword!”

None of them noticed the sword come out a few inches.

You Must Learn To Find That Self Worth, Then. So Many Here See You As A Good Friend.

A snarl ruptured from her throat, a familiar pain shooting through her arm. She knew this feeling, the hairs starting to smoke amongst the sea of gold. Her head was screaming at her to let go, yet for some stupid reason, she was still hanging on. Her free hand moved to the stone under her, having knelt down in front of the blade shortly before, now running her claws along them… as if that might mitigate some of the pain. She fought to get her words out, "Is it wrong that I don't understand why? There are those here that barely know me."

No Problem At All. Healing Takes Time And Work. But The Strangers Who Look At You...Do Look At You With Understanding. You Must Look Inside Your Own Heart To See The Worth That They See In You. You May Find It To Be True In The End.

More pain…

“You damn bitch! I am begging you! Let go of the damn blade!”

Her eyes widened.

Fire… Burning fire!

“Oh hell no! You are not doing this on me!”

He raced through the hallways of her mind. By now, he knew exactly which alcove was connected to which set of memories. He only needed to find the ones on ‘him’ and his followers. None of them could risk an attack coming out of the panic seeping into her very mind. The locks on the doors were cracking, wood splintering under the strain. Well, not if he could help it.

“She should just listen to me. Let go of the damn thing hurting her, but noooo. She has to be her usual stubborn self.” His hand waved, more chains crawling over the doors. That should keep them from surfacing. With any luck, she’d come to her senses before even his locks broke.

Her head pressed further into the cool metal of the blade, huffs escaping her maw. How much longer should she keep going on? No… it didn’t matter how long. Endure.

"Understanding huh...? Like me...?"

Her eyes closed, thinking back to all those in her life. Alexander. Malceum. Cassandra. Hell, even the Good Doctor himself.

What about Arthur and Vivi? She saw worth in them, and they did in her did they? These strangers she just met but might be just like her?

She opened her eyes, finally seeming to come to an internal understanding. She fought against the pain, using her free hand to push herself up from the ground, "I've always wondered what I kept fighting for... Why keep going if there was no point, that I had no worth...? I was taken in... everyone sees a worth in me that I can't... bogged down by my past sins.. my past mistakes.. But so long as I am still here, at least I have those worth keeping safe. Maybe if I can finally do just that.. I'll be able to see it for myself.. Until then..."

Her one grip on the blade tightened, knuckles probably would be white were it not only for her fur, but the constant glow shining off it, "I won't stop fighting. Maybe I'm worthy, maybe I'm not, maybe you really are right. Isn't that how it usually is sometimes? Having to be told something you should already know?"

A long silence.

You Are A Wise Woman, Indeed. Hurt By The Fate Life Has Given You...But You Have Grown To Understand A Lot Of Things.

The pain finally died away, the glow fading to reveal her normal fur… or at least normal save for the slight black marks on the end, tiny wisps of smoke, and the irritated red of burns see running across her skin. A calm breeze passed around her form, her arm trembling roughly from the trial she endured.

Ah, Yes. I See...I Understand...Well. Aside From That. I Only Pray Life Gets Better For You From Here On Out, Madam Salena. But I Am Impressed With How You Manage Through Your Troubles.

Even with the pain gone, her hand still refused to let go of the hilt; although, she did manage to crack a smile, "How can I do anything else? Anything to ensure I don't lose what I have left to hold onto. I hope that you may find someone worthy of you."

A selfless lady, indeed. I could not be any prouder, even if we just met.

A sentient weapon? Proud of her? It really shouldn’t be… but who was she to try and convince it otherwise?

The echoing voice giggles around her, About that worthiness.... 

...

I think I already have a few choices.

From there, the sword sank back into the stone, silence surrounding her. Her hand released its grip, allowing her to stagger over to the closest wall. No way she was going anywhere else for a little while. Her uninjured arm clinged to the other one, stinging racing through her entire side. Her back pressed against the stone, lowering herself down. The sword shouldn’t mind if she rested here for a while.

And then on cue, a frustrated voice rang in her head.

“I can’t believe you! Actually no, scratch that. I can believe you would do something as stupid as this! It’s light magic! You know what that does to you! I told you to fucking stop, but as always, you don’t want to listen to me. I don’t know why I stay with you half the time when you do things like this! Oh right, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t have a willing host. This game just started and look at what you’ve done day one. Not looking good for-”

Alastair…

“Don’t interrupt me.”

Alastair please…

“What the fuck do you want?”

Do you think I’m worthy?

He fell silent for a short while before the voice came back, “Worthy of what?”

Anything.

“I think that if you weren’t worthy of something, you wouldn’t have a home… a family, a husband, people that care about you… shall I go on?”

I asked for your opinion, not what those in my life might think.

An audible sigh, “Look dear, I can’t give you all the answers. It’s just as the hunk of metal told you. It’s kind of something you have to answer for yourself.”

She fell to silence. There was another sigh, “Come on, you need to rest. Once you have, we need to get your arm treated. Just, close your eyes and sleep, I’ll take care of your nightmares.”

Thank you…

“Yeah yeah, just rest.”

Her eyes closed, head leaning back against the stone wall. In the darkness, a presence was felt. Golden looked upon her for a brief moment before fading back into nothingness.

What an interesting first day.

---

((Cameo appearances from: The Divine King / @diviinc, Vivi / @viviskull, Arthur / @punsandfuturekingsmen, Lament / @lamentinglewis, Jun / @thetownfarmer))

[p---ink]

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything.  But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK! 

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc. 

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second. 

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues. 

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple. 

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground. 

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own. 

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars. 

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else. 

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections. 

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones.  Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon. 

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for? 

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?” 

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper. 

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention. 

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say. 

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well. 

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him? 

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing. 

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar. 

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—” 

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.” 

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father’s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through. 

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you. 

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course. 

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it,  their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business. 

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?” 

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.  

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you. 

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. 

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.  

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.  

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen. 

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head. 

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed. 

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs. 

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast. 

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions. 

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your  cooking. 

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger. 

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms. 

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles. 

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves. 

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly. 

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.” 

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off. 

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder  to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground. 

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy. 

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots. 

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks. 

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy. 

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it.  You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.  

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning. 

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay. 

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on. 

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you. 

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before,  used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more. 

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered. 

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke. 

“Please let me cum Tony.” 

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter. 

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do. 

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point. 

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago. 

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself. 

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to. 

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout. 

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure. 

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles. 

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead,  as Tony continued his case. 

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back. 

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.” 

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it.  “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet.  Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue. 

“Everything is going to be fine.”  You assured, gazing up at him. 

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car. 

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled. 

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were  right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal. 

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them.  As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much. 

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted. 

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours  before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.” 

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you. 

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could. 

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking. 

“Y/N,  I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up. 

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom. 

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones. 

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought. 

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured. 

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it. 

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.  

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it. 

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.” 

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you. 

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror. 

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway. 

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date. 

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking. 

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time. 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone,  “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave. 

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head. 

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips. 

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle. 

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy. 

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city. 

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out. 

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours. 

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.  

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while. 

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him. 

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him. 

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained. 

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time. 

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter. 

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now. 

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.” 

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.”  You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself. 

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got  out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.” 

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash. 

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table. 

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold. 

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time. 

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this? 

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now. 

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss. 

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude. 

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet. 

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?” 

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”  

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it.  You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes. 

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?” 

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease. 

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home. 

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you. 

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly. 

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.” 

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes. 

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony. 

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled. 

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.” 

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual. 

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart. 

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies.  Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you. 

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin. 

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been. 

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat. 

  A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To  @swaggysposts​ @scarletsoldierrr​ I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think!  PART 3 here 

[queerbrujas]

11 from the kiss meme for Nat! :)

Look at me filling prompts two months late :) I went a little bit off-prompt with this one but it still kind of counts!

the closest to heaven (that i’ll ever be)

pairing: nat sewell x eva navarro wordcount: 1.8k rating: G

read on ao3

Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

—

Nat Sewell doesn’t need any more sleep than other vampires.

She could easily sleep as little as Ava or Felix do, barely more than Mason: a few hours every few days, and it would be enough rest for her body. No, there is no practical reason for her to sleep more than the others in Unit Bravo—but she does anyway, out of habit and enjoyment, like the human food she eats or the whiskey she sometimes drinks. The music she listens to.

It’s a ritual. A reminder. Something pleasant and, for the most part, uncomplicated.

(Ava doesn't understand why she does it without need, but Ava, dear friend that she is, feels that way about many things.)

Sleep is, as most things about immortality, different; she would still call it different, even after three hundred years and only vaguely remembering what it is different from.

No, she doesn't think about that. It's just different.

Dreams, for one, are more vivid—but so are nightmares—and the rest it gives is enhanced. 

The moment of waking is different, too.

She likes to savor it, those first few instants after sleep, when her senses are still coated in a veil of dreams and only just beginning to reacquaint themselves with the world around her. Still coming out of a pleasant haze until they settle into complete awareness.

So she keeps her eyes closed, letting each of her senses wake in its own time, feeling and slowly widening her perception of her surroundings until she is fully awake.

Especially now, with those senses all drawn to focus on one person only, she would allow that moment to last for as long as possible.

Eva shifted during the night. It’s something she does regularly, Nat has realized by now—but no matter how much she does, she never moves away from her. Never stops touching her. Their legs are tangled together, with Nat laying on her side; her hand lays flat on Eva’s stomach and she can feel the softness and warmth of her skin under her palm, every point of contact between them something precious.

The pleasant heat that radiates off of her body is first on Nat’s mind, as it warms the space around them and lands on her skin, even more welcome than the morning sunlight.

Nat’s chin rests on Eva's shoulder, and the next thing she can feel is her hair, loose and spread over the pillow, strands of it brushing against Nat’s cheek and filling the air with that mix of scents that has become so familiar and known and cherished.

There are the very, very last remnants of the perfume Eva wore last night (faint amber and sandalwood are all that is left, but they are enough to bring the hints of mandarin and jasmine to Nat's memory), the shampoo she uses (a new one, nettle and lemon verbena) — and underneath it all Eva's own scent, something fresh and clean and something else still, something nameless, powerful and intoxicating that makes Nat almost dizzy.

She moves closer almost instinctively, smiling against Eva’s shoulder when the rhythm of her heartbeat starts to pick up. She knows, by now, the exact pattern and acceleration, the change in pace that tells her when she is waking. It starts only a few moments before her breathing becomes shallower.

Nat’s fingers trace shapes on Eva’s skin as she lets her focus settle on the soft sounds, on the shift of the air around them.

It's so easy. It's been so easy, with her.

So easy to speak of herself, to give herself so fully and so irrevocably. To grow used to waking with her like this. It has all fallen into place so quickly Nat could almost, almost be wary of it, and yet all she can feel is the way it warms even the oldest corners of her heart and fills her with a kind of happiness she can't remember feeling in as long as she's been alive.

Eva makes a noise then, a barely audible hum, and Nat’s thoughts are drawn back to her as her heart skips a beat of its own. It makes her smile—as much as she enjoys sensing the reactions she can cause in Eva, the inverse thrills her just the same.

She keeps her eyes closed still, enveloped by the hold Eva has over her senses, wanting to cling to it just a little longer, that sleepy daze that precedes the stark clarity of day.

Eva shifts, turns and burrows her face against Nat’s neck, making more soft, sleepy sounds. Another hum, and Nat feels the vibration against her skin. She wraps an arm around Eva and pulls her closer, their bodies flush against each other, and Eva lets out a contented sigh.

“Nat…” Eva's voice is muffled and sleep-heavy and yet it makes Nat’s heart give a leap. Nat answers with a soft hum of her own. 

Eva doesn’t speak again, instead shifting for a kiss to Nat’s shoulder; the touch on her skin feels vaguely electric, lightly charged. Another kiss, more humming, and Nat smiles even wider, happiness settling in her chest.

Nat shifts as well, tempted by the kisses, by the softness of Eva’s lips, featherlight touches brushing against her skin. Eyes still closed, the fluttering sensation almost overtakes her, as Eva presses them without rhyme or reason over her shoulders, her collarbone, her neck, her jaw.

Nat lets out a soft laugh when Eva nuzzles against her neck again and whispers “you’re warm”, her voice clinging to sleep as much as Nat herself is. Her senses are almost fully awake now, though, starting to become aware of the smaller things like the slight changes in the air and the sounds of the forest outside, someone’s footsteps off in the distance. But it all fades into the background, white noise, because she can tell Eva is more alert now, too—heart rate and breathing are almost back to normal—and that’s the only thing she can focus on.

“Good morning, jaan,” Nat says, that feeling of happiness bubbling within her and spilling into her voice, tentatively moving until she can press her lips to Eva’s temple, fingers playing with the strands of her hair.

“Morning,” comes the mumbled answer. She’s stubbornly clinging to it more than necessary, Nat knows; she’s almost fully awake by this point.

Nat opens her eyes then, and even after all this time, the sheer strength of her reaction to Eva still takes her by surprise. The lines of her face, beauty marks dotted on her skin. The way long lashes frame light brown eyes that are only just opening.

And her eyes are a wonder all on their own. Usually constantly moving, evaluating, with thoughts swirling behind them at a speed it takes a moment to keep up with, or with a hard focus on finding the best outcome for a mission.

And yet the way she looks at her now is enough to make Nat’s heart almost stop.

Eva, her Eva who almost never stays still, who is so at ease with the breakneck speed this modern world has taken, and yet—and yet she chooses, has chosen to slow down for her without even the slightest hesitation and seems as thrilled by it as Nat herself is.

Nat can see the whirlwind behind her eyes stilling every time they lock eyes, as it does now, a gentle focus that reflects every depth and every feeling Nat has inside herself. Eva smiles, beautiful, blissful, full of softness and feeling she has admitted time and again to being unused to and Nat’s breath catches at it, her own heart racing even faster—she feels nothing short of honored that she would be the one to inspire that so freely in her.

She waits a second for the catch in her breathing to subside, a smile spreading on her lips.

“Have I told you that you are the most beautiful sight to wake up to?” she says, raising her hand to brush her fingers against Eva’s cheek. She doesn’t try to keep the emotion from her voice.

Eva’s eyes sparkle at the comment and she laughs, but the slightest hint of heat radiates from her cheeks all the same, something she doesn’t hide or shy away from; Nat loves her for it, loves the eager honesty in her smile and how she revels in the shivers Nat causes in her. Her sleepy smile grows wider and more alert and she leans forward again, kisses Nat's cheek and the touch of her lips is so soft, so gentle Nat’s eyes almost close again at it.

“Then maybe I should stay here every night,” Eva says, with a smile in her voice, too. “And, for the record,” she adds after another kiss, “yes, you have.”

“You will hear no argument from me,” Nat answers with a light chuckle. “I'd have you with me always.”

They have been spending almost every night together, at the Warehouse or in Eva's apartment, and the nights they don’t are longer and emptier than Nat could ever have imagined they would be.

I'd have you stay forever. She almost says it—and it is so unlike her to keep these thoughts unvoiced, but this one, this one she would hold on to for just a little longer.

Eva draws back, only a little, and her light brown eyes meet Nat’s again. She is silent for a moment before speaking again. “You know I have nowhere else I’d rather be.”

It’s almost a whisper and, despite the smile that still sits on her lips, more serious than she probably intended it to sound.

There are depths to those words, Nat knows. There is an unspoken conversation and an idea and a thought that hangs between them still—but there is also the undiluted truth of it, truth that is both freeing and overwhelming, exhilarating and comforting.

Nat lets herself be taken by the feeling of it until the force that pulls her to Eva is so strong she has to do something about it, and without words (because there are no words that would be enough, in any language she knows) she does the only thing she can. She leans in to kiss her again and Eva melts into it eagerly, grasping at her and pulling her closer, the sweet softness of her mouth the only thing Nat cares to know.

They part with a breath and a smile and Eva keeps her eyes closed for a few seconds, lashes brushing against her cheeks. Nat wants to count them. She has never seen anything or anyone so beautiful.

After a moment, Eva lets out a sigh, shutting her eyes more tightly with a frown.

“There’s a meeting,” she says, making Nat blink in confusion for a second. She can hear, can feel the regret in her voice, sounding much more awake now than a few minutes ago. “We should—what time is it?”

Nat laughs.

“Yes, I believe we should start getting ready for the day.”

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s Notes: Edit 4/27/2021: Modified a few scenes and added more bits of conversation!

TWs/CWs: mentions of past abuse, abusive parents, noncon elements courtesy of Niragi

III

hey girl, open your walls / play with your dolls / we'll be a perfect family

A tense silence had befallen the car.

Niragi had finally kept his mouth shut while Saiko drove in peace. Last Boss is staring blankly ahead, and Yamane’s sneaking wary glimpses at him. Across the horizon, the Seaside Paradise Tokyo comes into view, and Yamane almost jumps out of her seat.

“The Beach is Seaside Paradise?” she asks no one in particular, mouth agape as they approached. The walls had been spray painted red with the katakana for “Beach”, and Yamane can feel the bass pounding through her chest, even from their distance.

“What, a rat like you never been to a place this fancy before?” Saiko interrupts.

“...my father used to bring me with him while speaking to his business partners in the resort. The resort got their amenities from his company,” Yamane mutters in response, averting her gaze and choosing to look out the window again.

At her admission, Niragi and Saiko turn to her. “Was that company by any chance called Yamacorp? Oh, don’t tell me…” Niragi starts, smirking. Saiko is squinting, and after halting the car, she reaches back to squeeze Yamane’s face, taking a good look at her.

“You’re that disgraced Yamacorp heiress,” Saiko blurts out, letting go of Yamane’s face and setting her eyes on the road again. “Now I know why your name seemed familiar. Shit, and I almost didn’t recognize you because of your getup. Your story was all over the tabloids.”

The admission opened a can of worms and Yamane grimaced at herself. As she slumped back to her seat, she groans and leans her head against the backrest in resignation. “Can we not bring that up?”

“The tabloids said you flunked all your classes in university because you partied too much, and your parents cut you off, then you started sucking old men’s dicks so you can still afford all that shit you put on your face,” Saiko continues, smirking, not paying any heed to the other woman’ request. At that point, Yamane’s temper is starting to simmer underneath her stony expression.

“All the tabloids ever publish are sensationalist bullshit, and I already had the feeling that you’re the type to eat that all up without a second thought. I suggest you shut the hell up before I ruin your pretty face with my good arm.”

Brakes screeching, Saiko sneers and points a gun at Yamane’s face. “Niragi, control your new pet. She’s getting too mouthy.”

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do. Get her to shut up yourself,” Niragi says in response, pointing the barrel of his rifle at her, and his tongue slips out of his mouth, licking his sneering lips.

“I mean it,” Yamane challenges, temper flaring further.

Fingers itching for the dagger on her hip, Yamane gives the other woman a good look. Saiko’s taller, legs running for miles from what she can see; if the circumstances were different, she would’ve been Yamane’s type. It doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman, she preferred the tall ones. However, Saiko is being unnecessarily hostile. Being held against her will, coupled with the pain from her injury gave Yamane the urge to carve her face off.

She shudders at her own thoughts. They’re not a stable person’s urges.

“Take her word for it.” Last Boss says, and everyone’s attention shifts to him. Then, he turns to Yamane. “Yamaneko killed a man in our game, and assisted me with another.”

Upon hearing the new moniker, Yamane turns to the tattooed man, her eyes meeting his. The backrest is still warm when she leans back and looks away. “Wildcat? At least it’s better than ‘rat’,” she thought. She still didn’t expect it to come from Last Boss, of all people.

“Shut up and drive already,” Niragi scolds Saiko, and she rolls her eyes at him as she withdraws the gun from Yamane’s face. Fuming, Saiko steps on the gas and they continue speeding towards the Beach.

“So, are the rumors true though? Did you really suck dick to survive?” Saiko asks.

“What’s this, an interview? You don’t have one, so I guess you’ll never know. Next question.”

Niragi snickers, mumbling something to himself, while Saiko rolls her eyes.

“For some sheltered princess from a rich-ass family, you seem awfully calm with a gun pointed to your face. Care to share why?” she comments.

“Okay, interview’s over. I’m done talking about a life I’ve already left behind.”

To Yamane’s relief, the car was quiet once more. However, the thoughts of home continued to linger in her mind.

“Hey oneechan, when are you going to come visit?”

Truth be told, Yamane didn’t know what to say. All the other person on the other side of the line can hear is silence.

“Are you there?”

“Yeah. I’m still here Mai,” replied Yamane, barely concealing the crack in her voice. “You know why I can’t go home again.”

“Mom is dead. Her funeral is tomorrow.”

Breathing in deep, the exiled daughter closes her eyes. “Mai, the last time she saw me, she slashed my arm with my own sewing shears.”

“I know, I know. You know, I admire you. I didn’t think I had it in you to defy our parents. You were so… pliable. No offense, sis.”

“Well, that was how I avoided punishment. Try to please them and hope that it’ll be enough for them to lay it off.”

Mai gives her sister a nervous laugh, and the conversation almost dies. In the background, a baby’s cry pierced the quiet and left both sisters speechless. If one listens close enough, they can hear Yamane’s breath hitching in her throat.

“Mai, was that a baby? Don’t tell me you got knocked up, dammit.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a baby. But it’s not mine. It’s dad’s. A boy, just six months old. He’s our little brother. His name is Riku.”

Pacing around and rubbing her face, the phone squeezed between her shoulder and cheek, Yamane groans. “Well, he finally got the damn son he wanted. So father is having an affair after all. I fucking knew it!” Yamane curses, pacing around.

With frustration, she kicks the metal trash can next to the kitchen counter. “Mom didn’t even need to hire that private investigator. I stalked father and that girl for months, and the first time I brought it up, mom gave me a beating for ‘daring to speak that way about my father’. Fucking waste of money confirming what we already knew.”

On the other side of the line, Mai chokes and sobs. “Hey, sis, can you take me with you?” Mai asks with a tremor to her voice, desperate to change the topic.

At that point, Yamane can feel the headache settling in. “Mai, please, not this again. We’ve talked about this before. You’re safe where you are, don’t make the same mistakes I did. Use our parents’ resources to get ahead, then cut them off when you’re ready.”

“Yeah, I’m safe, but I’m not free, like you. Poor Riku’s life is probably going to get micromanaged by father too. I don’t want to wait anymore. You know, I think I’d rather be working like you instead of being here. It must be nice, being free from my obligations as a daughter and a sister,” Mai huffed and sniffled.

Hand curling into a fist, Yamane does her best to stay calm despite the hostile shift in Mai’s words. “Cut that shit out, Mai. I already had a lecture on how I’m a terrible daughter from mom and father. I don’t need a lecture from you about how fucked up I am, I already know that.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” Mai defends herself. “I just mean… I can’t take it anymore, oneechan. I’m at my limit.”

After a few tense moments, Yamane speaks again.

“I’m sorry Mai. I should be there, protecting you from father, but I chose to run after my pipe dream of going into fashion design,” Yamane continues, pulling the refrigerator door open to fetch a can of beer. She squeezes the phone between her cheek and shoulder again to open it, and she takes a long swig of the bitter beverage.

“I just miss you so much. Having you around made life a little easier. You were always there to defend me.”

Eyes blank and lips stained by beer, Yamane holds back the tears, opting to clear her throat. “I miss you too.”

Mai chuckles. “Hey, don’t forget about me once your clothes are on the cover of Vogue and Nylon, okay?”

Bitterly, brokenly, Yamane laughs. What a cruel joke it was, the punchline being her wages barely covering her expenses, and the fact that her savings are almost non-existent. At that rate, fashion design school seemed like something she’ll never set foot in. Not that she’d fit in there too; street fashion had always been her thing, not haute couture.

The bitter reality of her situation made Yamane give up on her own dreams long ago, but it seems Mai never gave up on her.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll come snatch you away from father.”

“Hey, maybe I could model your designs for you. You could model them yourself too.”

“Mai, my asscheeks are too fat for me to model anything.”

Laughter echoed in Yamane’s apartment that night. That was the last call she ever had with her little sister, and now that she’s in this world full of death games, it’s almost guaranteed that she’ll never hear her voice again.

The thoughts dissolved away piece by piece as the car halted. The bass was more intense than ever. Niragi and Saiko step out of the car, and Last Boss follows suit. Saiko begrudgingly opens the door for Yamane, and as Yamane ducked to get out of the car, the taller woman clamps an arm on her good shoulder. “You better watch your back, mouse girl.”

“Is that a threat?” Yamane asks, looking her in the eye.

“Advice. This place looks like paradise, but there are serpents crawling about.”

Exhaling sharply, Yamane scoffs, and they follow the two men inside the resort. The mouse’s eyes widened at what she saw. People are drinking, partying, and fucking under the sun, and it’s not even noon. People were clinking drinks together. A naked couple walks right past them and Yamane feels her face flush.

Without warning, Last Boss kicks a speaker over, abruptly stopping the music, and Niragi shouts at the crowd.

The sea of people parted as they made their way through, onlookers wary of the armed men. Seeing how the crowd reacted with fear at their arrival made Yamane’s pulse race. These men had to be dangerous for them to draw that kind of reaction, and she is getting involved. Instinctively, Yamane wraps her arms around herself.

“Stop acting like a damn wimp,” Saiko berates her, and Yamane snaps out of it, straightening her back and walking a little more taller.

“I’ll speak to the chief for now. Get her to the Hatter,” Niragi instructs.

“Hatter?”

Then, Niragi turns to Yamane, grabs her face, and gives her a parting lick.

“You need to fucking stop that,” Yamane hisses, though her body still trembles with fear. “At least ask for some damn permission.” Niragi responded by tugging at her bad arm, and the mouse couldn’t stop the soft hiss of pain from escaping through her teeth.

“The righteous and moral have no place here, where human nature reigns. You best learn it as soon as possible if you want to last here, mousy. I can fucking drag you to my room and take you as I please if I wanted to,” he sneers in Yamane’s ear, dragging that damned tongue on the sensitive skin of her neck.

The little dormouse found herself shuddering at the contact and she hated it.

Sure, he looks good, but he’s a bastard. Yamane’s hand curls into a fist, and she looks at the other two. Saiko is smirking, the look in her face telling Yamane that she’s amused by his discomfort. On the other hand, Last Boss just stares again, mouth twitching at the corner.

To Yamane’s shock, his arm shoots out from his side, and grabs her by the elbow. His grip was strong but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and he had the decency not to go for the injured arm.

“She’s your problem now,” Saiko says nonchalantly, and walks away. Grinning, Niragi looks at his companion and walks away, rifle slung over his shoulder.

People in the hallways stayed close to the walls, whispering amongst each other as Last Boss dragged Yamane inside the building, whose legs were having trouble keeping up with his strides.

“Move, he’s one of the militants,” one of the residents whispered to another.

“Who’s he with? Someone new?”

“Probably the military sect’s fresh meat. Or a toy.”

Mouth dry, Yamane gulps at the comments. She looks up to the man holding her by the elbow, her mind racing, wondering if he’s anything like Niragi, or if he’d force himself upon her like Niragi had threatened to do.

One thing was certain, however. Yamane preferred his silence to Niragi’s loud mouth. Silence isn’t a thing she had the luxury of enjoying in her previous life.

And speaking of her previous life, it’s probably something she should stop thinking about now. Yamane needs to worry about what’s happening now. Surviving both death games and life in this “Beach” needed to be her top priority. Getting her shoulder treated is the first step, and somehow, Yamane is thankful they brought her here.

Last Boss brings her into a large room, where several people have gathered, pushing her down a chair. A man with shoulder-length hair and facial hair stands at the end of the table, grinning.

“What’s this? Another addition to our lovely paradise! Welcome to the Beach,” he announces, pacing around with his arms wide open. “I’ve heard good things about you, girl. Helping our military sect members clear a Seven of Clubs game? Quite an impressive feat for a newcomer. Who are you?”

“Minami Yamane.” She pauses. “You must be the Hatter.”

“I am indeed. And I,” he pauses, pointing to his tag, “am the number one player in the Beach.”

Yamane takes note of the tags on the Beach members’ wrists, and for the first time, sees the numbers on them. Her eyes then flick towards Last Boss’ tag. Number eight.

“What do these ranks mean? Are there benefits to them?” Yamane asks him.

“These ranks,” Hatter starts, circling Yamane, “are the order of who gets to return to the original world. I have heard from a reliable source that collecting all playing cards would grant one player the ability to go back. Then, when another set of cards are completed, the next person shall follow them.”

The red curtains in the middle of the room parts, revealing a tally of the cards the Beach has collected.

“Those who can clear more games and contribute more cards have higher ranks, and are closer to leaving this country. For helping Niragi and Last Boss clear a Seven of Clubs, we’ll consider moving your rank up higher.”

“That’ll take forever,” Yamane comments, earning her an amused grin from the number one player.

“Which is why this utopia is created so that players can combine their efforts until there are none left on the Beach,” Hatter explains, triumphantly shaking a fist. Yamane shakes her head.

”I guess it can’t be helped. Is it safe to assume that I am allowed to visit the Beach as long as I keep contributing cards?”

Hatter laughs, striding towards her. “Smart girl. You’re already figuring out how things work here. But you got one thing wrong: you’re not just a visitor. You’re a member now. And membership comes with its rules.”

The doors swing open, revealing Niragi, a few more militants, and a man who is leading them. Judging from his looks, Yamane thought he might be in law enforcement, or even the SDF.

“Ah, Aguni. You’re late,” Hatter groans. The bald man grunts and takes a seat at the table.

“I had matters to attend to,” replied Aguni, terse, gruff. Yamane couldn’t help but feel nervous.

“Sure you do,” Hatter replies, chuckling. “You’re just in time. I was about to explain the rules to the newcomer your underlings brought us.”

“The military sect’s chief,” Yamane mumbles, and Niragi steps closer to smirk at her face. “You’re figuring that out just now?” he asks, mockery dripping from his voice, and he attempts to lick Yamane’s face again. This time, she dodges, giving Niragi a glare.

“Ah, ah, as number one, I am obligated to maintain order. Niragi, back off from the little lady. We’re digressing from our purpose of being here!”

Niragi gives Hatter a dirty look and steps away from her.

“Yamane, listen closely. Rule number one, always wear a swimsuit.”

Yamane gave the leader of the Beach a bewildered look. “Huh?”

“Can’t hide weapons in a swimsuit now, can’t you? But of course, if Aguni accepts you as a member of the militants, you’ll be allowed to carry one. Isn’t that right?”

Aguni doesn’t speak, only offering him a grunt. Hatter then walks towards the windows, sunlight streaming through the curtains. “Rule number two. Be free to live your life exactly as you wish. Hell, you can drink, do drugs, have sex as much as you want!”

The prospect piqued Yamane’s interest. Freedom to live her life as she wished was something she didn’t get to enjoy in the real world.

“I accept the rules,” she declares, earning her a chuckle from a few of the members.

“Ah, but you’re getting ahead of yourself, dear Yamane. There’s a third rule. Remember what I said about you being a member of the Beach now? Membership is for life. And if you should choose to run away, hide a card from the Beach, or refuse to surrender a card to the Beach? Well…”

Last Boss gets behind Yamane’s chair, and he tilts Yamane’s head with one hand, while angling the sword under her chin with another. Yamane gulps, looking at the sharp blade that’s mere inches from her neck, and goosebumps are forming on her skin from the tattooed man’s cold fingers.

“Rule number 3. Death to traitors.”

Yamane looks up to Last Boss, then her eyes flick towards Niragi, her body trembling in indignation. “You. You two brought me here so I’ll never escape your sights,” she seethes.

“What are you talking about?” Niragi asks her, feigning innocence. “We lost a man in that club game, and we needed a replacement, remember? But I guess, now that you’re never allowed to leave, why don’t we have some fun while we’re all here?”

Refusing to give Niragi any more attention, Yamane turns to the Hatter. “I take it back. I refuse to stay here.”

“You can’t refuse the Beach now. Besides, you have an injury. Only we can help you. We have doctors, we have specialists who maintain the plumbing and electricity, and we have enough rooms. You’ll have food, medicine, and comfort here.”

Grinning, Niragi comes closer again, crouching to look the mouse in the eye. “You should be thanking us, mousy.”

Sighing, Yamane relents. “Fine.”

The Hatter smiles. Another soul is successfully lured to this “paradise”.

As the meeting adjourned, Aguni approaches Yamane, sizing her up.

“Niragi. This one better not disappoint,” he grunts. “Last Boss, get her to the clinic. She’ll be a liability with her injuries.”

At the order, Last Boss grabs Yamane by the elbow again and they set off. Yamane looks back to Niragi, then to Aguni, and proceeds to do her best to catch up with the tall, tattooed man’s strides once more.

Upon their arrival at the makeshift clinic, the bustle of the clinic fell into a hush. Patients and medics alike stop to gawk at the militant dragging a young woman inside.

He says nothing and waits by the door. A doctor wearing a red one piece swimsuit underneath a coat approaches Yamane carefully.

“How can I help you?”

“I have a dislocated shoulder,” Yamane mutters. “I need it treated so it won’t hinder my future games.”

“I’m Doctor Lilian Sunohara,” the doctor introduces herself. “If you ever get hurt in one of the games, you can come here to get yourself patched up.” Cautiously, nervously, Sunohara approaches Yamane and begins to administer her care, starting with setting her bones.

After applying a sling, Dr. Sunohara stands up and fetches a bottle of painkillers from the cabinet. Yamane couldn’t help but gawk at the stockpile of medicine. “I haven’t seen you around before,” said the doctor, voice low.

“Him and another man called Niragi brought me here,” Yamane explains. The look of concern in Sunohara’s face and the cautious look from the other patients says it all.

That’s when it finally sinks in; Yamane’s aware that she’s associated with the militants now, and people are avoiding her like the plague.

[ettawritesnstudies]

Storge Edit Update Ch. 8

(links to catch up, I didn’t do any dedicated posts for #1-3: here’s 4, 5, 6, and 7)

Stats

The whole draft is at 41,435K and 81 pages (standard Word settings). That’s roughly 30-35% of the way through the draft!

This chapter is entirely new to this draft, and clocks in at 4412 words and 9 pages.

I have two more scenes to draft from scratch before I can get back to editing what I have so far, so the pace will pick up at the end of chapter 9 hopefully!

After this chapter, I took a break to get ~organized~ because this middle is slowly becoming untangled and I want to track my changes as I go so I don’t forget my reasoning. This included making a whole spreadsheet! It’s color coded and I’m really pleased with it, but it also showed that I have a LOT of work ahead of me.

Excerpts and Commentary below the cut!

Lyss, scheming as usual

First line:

Two days after her rise to power and the ruin of her city, the new Queen of Maaren found herself locked in gladiatorial combat of the intellect. At least, that was how it felt to be seated at this dinner-turned-meeting table after three hours of Atilan chattering.

Last line:

The god’s chosen.

It had a nice ring to it, the title she should have earned at the Trials all those years ago. A deep-seated satisfaction filled her stomach, not just from being full of food. She could be the chosen one, for the good of the city, and because it was what she deserved. She raised her wine glass again, a silent toast, to her own reign, before downing the contents in one drink.

Esil and his friends, scheming as usual

First line:

Two days after their greatest victory and greatest defeat, the new Master of the Anarchists found himself in the fight of his life. At least, that’s how it always felt when he sparred Amika.

Last line:

Esil reluctantly nodded his agreement. “It’s a plan. I don’t want to underestimate Lyss. This will show her that we’re still a threat, and you’re right. We need to act now, her control still uncertain. It’s for the good of the city.”

Divad laughed. “If I had wine, I would toast to that.”

Amika grinned and reached for the water canteen she’d set beside her after the sparring match. She took a drink, then unceremoniously dumped the rest of it over his head, to many protests and laughter from the assembled company.

“To the good of the city! Let’s kill a queen.”

Commentary

This chapter was very satisfying to get right. One of my favorite literary devices especially in fiction, is the use of motifs. I also struggle so much with intros and endings, but I think I finally figured out a trick, at least with these two villains. They both think they’re doing what’s right, and mirroring the openings and the phrase, “For the good of the city” adds an ironic element to their plans.

I can’t share the plans, because of spoilers, but I’m happy with how this chapter grounds their subplots into the wider scope of the story. The last draft, I introduced them in chapter 4 and Esil disappeared until chapter 14 because I totally forgot to write his background logistics until he had to show up for a big plot point. So now they exist and hopefully this low-stakes planning chapter will help with the pacing and start to add some tension as I build up to the midpoint twist

This was also the chapter where I started to feel a little overwhelmed with how much I have left to cover. I’m 1/3 of the way done with the plot so I’m hitting a mental sagging-middle-syndrome as I slog towards the fun part. I think part of this is because I had to draft from scratch, rather than edit an existing scene, so it’s going a lot slower. The other part is that I’ve been listening to a LOT of writing craft podcasts and making a mental list of all the steps leading up to publication, which is intimidating. I shouldn’t even really think about publishing yet, and you can only eat an elephant one bite at a time, but I’m just as much of a planner as my characters. The idea of having to set up so much now to get the payoff 5 years down the line is exhausting, but I’ll get there eventually!

[hailbop1701]

Welcome back to Prompt Wednesday everyone! We have prompt #42 chosen by @fandoms-and-sunshine!

Fandom: Almost Human

Type: John Kennex X Reader

Whiskey Business

Word Count: 2,424

Okay so this was supposed to be crack-ish but it ended being pure angst. 👀😅 I hope ya'll like it and please don't mind the typos I have no beta for these! Please note the reader is a paramedic in this and I don't know what they do day in and out. So if I got things wrong or it sounds a little off I'm sorry! I also wanted to say thank you to those who are Paramedics/EMS and firefighters. You guys do so much and I feel you should be recognized more often!

-H❤🖖

The day had been long and exhausting both emotionally and physically. Huffing out a frustrated breath still pent up on adrenaline and anger you took another big swig of whiskey. The bottle was half gone and you gave up on using a glass a while ago. Lifting the bottle you took another swig hoping to wash out the nasty taste that day’s events left you with. 

Your day started out like any other. It was rather dull until a call came in for a bad car accident downtown. You and your partner took the call and made it record time, 

“Traffic laws don’t apply to us,” your partner Jinnie tried to convince you as she hopped over the median strip. The rig jangled and bucked but was otherwise unharmed, you couldn’t help but laugh at her insanity and roll your eyes. 

“Marcus is going to kill you one of these days!” you chuckled thinking about your boss who wore a permanent scowl. Jinnie smirked and winked like she knew a funny joke and couldn’t wait to tell you the punch line, “Marcus and I have an understanding!” she giggled. You wrinkled your nose and shook your head, “Nasty Jin, just no,” 

She cackled as she made a sharp left turn; outside the rig, horns blared and honked, curses were thrown at you from afternoon commuters out hunting for a quick lunch. “Hey don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Jinnie said wickedly. You let out a pained groan and made a dramatic gagging sound, 

“Never gonna go there Jin, Marcus reminds me of my uncle Artie, who by the way is one pill away from the nuthouse, “ you said bracing your hands against the dash as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the call. The intersection held four smoking damaged beyond repair cars. One of which was overturned with blood coloring the windshield. Jinnie threw open her door tossing a “Call for backup” over her shoulder. 

Picking up the radio you made the call ordering more ambulancs and for police to hurry their collective asses up. Looking up you saw Jinnie climbing into the overturned car with her kit. Cursing you saw the crowd getting bigger and pushing their way closer to the scene. Tossing your radio to the side you kicked open your door the rest of the way-

The doorbell rang bringing you back to your dingy apartment. Safe, alive, and curled up on the couch clutching onto a now almost empty bottle like it was a lifeline. The doorbell rang again repeatedly like the person in the hall was trying to play chopsticks with the ringer; hissing in annoyance you set the whiskey bottle down noisily on the glass coffee table and stumbled toward the door. Blinking away the cotton and shaking the blurriness away you reached your front door without too much incident. Staring at the doorknob intently for a few seconds you waited until there were at least three of them, only then you decided to guess which one was the real one. 

Swinging the door open you blinked and glared at the moronic soul who dared disturb your grief-induced drinking binge. There stood John Kennex holding two large bags in his hands; you knew John easily enough. The two of you would run across each other often at scenes, whether they were accidents or not so much. You were actually one of the ones who kept John alive on the way to the hospital after the raid. That had been a bad day, just as bad as this one was. He contacted you again sometime after he woke up from his coma, the two of you have been hanging out and getting closer ever since. 

John pressed his lips into a thin line the both of you silent and appraising each other, 

“Are you sober?” 

you scoffed at the dumbass question, with a roll of your eyes you responded like any other time he’s asked you something dumb. You gave him the most smart-ass reply your whiskey drenched brain could come up with at that moment.

“I’m moderately functional,” 

John breathed out a heavy sigh catching the strong whiff of alcohol and depression coming from you. “I’ll take that as a no,” he muttered pushing his way into your apartment, you scowled at his back as he disappeared into your kitchen. 

“Please come right in,” you slurred dramatically bowing, gesturing for your imaginary friends in the hallway to join you. Slamming the door shut you carefully work your way to where John was rummaging around in your cupboards, you mumbled obscenities under your breath and made your way back to the living room where your bottle sat waiting for you. 

It was gone, “John what the actual fuck!” you whined stomping your taco slipper-clad foot down angrily. John shot you a grimace from the kitchen as he pulled down plates and grabbed forks, “You don’t need anymore, besides there was like a sip left so I drank it,” 

“Dick move Kennex,” you growled flopping down on the couch. The offending man gave you a sad smile, he walked in holding two plates piled high with Chinese food and balanced two bottles of soda under his arms. Pitying the poor struggling man you took the sodas from him so he could set down the plates. Sighing John flopped into the couch next to giving you a cheeky smile, 

“You brought me food,” you mumbled looking at the takeout confused. John hummed cracking open your soda and forcing it into your hands so you get something else in you other than cheap whiskey. Taking an automatic swig of the sugary beverage you winced at the change of pace. 

“Why?” 

Your question threw him off guard a little; fork half-way to his mouth with noodles hanging off of it he looked at you like he was choosing his words carefully. John set his plate down and turned to face you, “Because you’re my friend (Y/N) and you’ve lost somebody. You shouldn’t have to be alone and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be drinking with a concussion,” he said adding the last part offhandedly.  

Your ears still rang and the pounding in your head -now that he’s reminded you- hurt like hell. But that’s not what made you flinch; what you’ve spent hours working to forget was flooding all back. 

The smell of gas unmistakable, your eyes searched the ground and around the other cars as you worked to stabilize a teen girl in an old Prius at the front of the pack. “Is everything okay?” the girl moaned out watching your darkening face, her own expression melting into one of panic. Turning back to her you give her a shaky reassuring smile, 

“Yeah, I just need you to hold still for me, okay?” The girl returned the shaky smile, her lips trembling, tears streamed down her face. You shushed her gently as you put a neck brace on her, “What’s your name sweetheart?” 

“Gwen, my-my name is Gwen,” she croaked, sniffing trying to put on a brave face. You gave her another smile trying to keep the apprehension from your voice. The smell of gas was getting stronger by the second. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Gwen, my name is (Y/N),” 

“I can’t move my legs,” Gwen whimpered struggling, you immediately stopped her. 

“Gwen I’m gonna need you to hold still for me hun,” 

The girl whimpered again in both fear and pain, “I just want to go home,” she cried tears flowing again. You nodded, “I know sweetheart, I know. We’ll get you out soon,” you promised and internally winced. Never make promises. 

Looking over your shoulder you saw Jinnie loading up your rig’s gurney. She looked at you and gestured to your surroundings in question. The lack of other ambulances and police were getting tiresome. You shook your head and gave a shrug; Jinnie huffed and talked into the comm that was on her vest. 

“(Y/N) I can smell gas, is that bad? That’s bad, right?” Gwen sobbed struggling against the steering wheel again. Her legs were pinned and you were going to need the fire department to get her out. Feeling helpless you tapped your comm. 

“Jin, where’s the FD? We’re going to need sand ASAP,” you kept your voice even and without the panic you were feeling. Gwen started breathing hard; the beginnings of an anxiety attack. 

“Gwen I need you to breathe, I can’t have you passing out on me now,” your voice seemed to soothe the girl so you kept going. Taking her hand you talked about anything and everything until her breathing was under control again. The sound of screeching tires and sirens pulled you from a story about your older brother, some firecrackers, and a little too much hooch. You heard Jinnie in the background berating anyone who would stop and listen to her, 

“Where in hell have you been?” her voice carried over the chaos. Looking in the side mirror you saw your best friend and partner shouting at another paramedic, who was shrinking back from the small woman. A firefighter was jogging up to you holding his helmet in place, 

“What do you need?” he asked breathlessly, giving you a flirty smile. Any other time you would have been flattered but right now you were just pissed off. “Sand and her legs are pinned,” 

At your tone of voice, the firefighter shrunk back a little and cleared his throat nervously. Hastily he spoke a few orders into his comm. Peering into the car the man muttered to Gwen that he was going to get her out of there by supper time. ‘Should have been earlier than that,’ you thought sourly. 

“(Y/N) I need your help over here!” Jinnie called waving a hand wildly. Biting your lip you tuned back to Gwen, “I’ll be right back okay Gwen? I’m going to be right over there,” you pointed in the direction of a group of ambulances. Gwen sniffed and nodded watching the firefighter work on pulling the driver’s side door open. 

You were a good twenty feet away when you heard a startled scream. Whipping around you saw Gwen’s car on fire; the firefighter struggled and fought with the car door trying to desperately get it open. 

“(Y/N)!” the girl screamed and before you knew it the fire spread to the cab. Gwen screamed in terror and pain as the fire engulfed the vehicle. You surged forward without thinking to try and help but a pair of arms stopped you from doing any further. Screaming out the girl’s name you elbowed the person who had a hold of you. Before you could run forward you were pushed back by an explosion. 

Landing on your back you looked up at the cloudless blue sky in a daze, someone was calling your name repeatedly but they seemed too far away to understand. 

“-(Y/N), I need you to calm down for me, okay?” 

The touch and sound of John pulled you back gasping. His hand held yours to his chest over his heart, it fluttered but beat steadily under your touch, his breathing even. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged softly as your own breathing slowed to match his. He rattled on about this, that, and the other thing. Your mind started to function almost normally again as he talked about how Dorian kept tuning into Korean radio. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks making him stop mid-sentence, scooting closer to you he slowly wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened in his for the briefest moment before breaking down. 

It was quite sometime later when you finally sat up and rubbed away any traces of tears and snot. “I’m sorry,” you whispered embarrassedly, eyeing the wet patch on his shirt. John waved it away his eyes searching your for any sign of panic or distress, 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured gruffly, grabbing your discarded soda from the coffee table. You frowned at the offering, ‘When did I put that down?’ you questioned taking the beverage. Uncapping the soda you took a decent swig, the bubbles cleared your head a bit more. John stood and grabbed both of your still full plates and headed to the kitchen. You watched as he put them in the microwave one at a time. His gaze would flit to you every few seconds or so just to make sure you were still okay. 

Getting up you wandered over to him, pulling your sweatshirt tighter around yourself you give him a sad grateful smile. “Thank you,” you had said it so softly that he almost didn’t catch it. 

John pushed off the counter wrapping you into another hug, this one you fully returned. You both swayed to the hum of the microwave the smell of Chinese drifting through the air. John rested his chin on the crown of your head humming softly. “Tiny Dancer,” by Elton John you guessed by the tune. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how out of tune he was. “Don’t ruin the song, John,”  you murmured into his neck. His chest vibrated as he laughed, his fingers gently carding through your hair. “I’m not that bad,” he defends half-heartedly. You shook your head and pulled back just a little to raise an eyebrow. Upon seeing your expression John huffed and nodded, 

“I’m that bad,” he agreed. 

The microwave beeped signaling that the food was finally heated up and ready to eat. But neither of you wanted to pull away. Grumbling you glared at the offending machine mentally willing your food to float across the kitchen to where you were standing. When nothing happened you cursed at it instead, 

“Damn, the struggle is fucking real,” you sighed stepping away from John to retrieve your food. Picking up his plate John followed you back into the living room, he grabbed the remote for your TV and flicked it on to an old classic movie. The Jurassic Park theme echoing throughout the room made you smile in nostalgia. 

Sitting down you easily molded yourself into John’s side and for the rest of the night that’s where you stayed. You knew everything was going to be alright, even if your heart still ached for Gwen and the firefighter who you never knew. You accepted that you were going to be upset for a long time because of what happened but you were at least not going to be alone. 

   

Tags:

Everything:

@thottiewithashotgun

@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@stileslover13-blog

@cowenby2

@bluesclues-1234

Prompt Wednesday:

@stardustednerd

@fandoms-and-sunshine