#all over him?? and where IS she?? does she not live in this giant penthouse w her husband and his ocean sized bed?

[pastelchad]

Instead of writing fic where you genderbend the ukes and make them str8 couples (😐) genderbend the entirety of sih and make the central conflict about Akihiko and fem!Ritsu's lavender marriage

[slaymitchabernathy]

Wrapped in a Bow

It’s late when Coriolanus gets home.

So late.

The guilt eats him alive as he pushes the elevator button to take him to the twelfth floor. He lives in the penthouse of course.

He knows she’ll be waiting for him, she always is. Even if she falls asleep in the process he knows Soarynn won’t go to bed without him. At first he’d been slightly put off by it.

Why would she wait up for him when she could be asleep?

But then he began to love it, cherish it. And the more sick and twisted side of him was filled with pride that his girlfriend chose to wait for him each and every night. He knew his other friends couldn’t say the same.

He’s quiet when unlocking the doors and walking in. The penthouse is dark except for a faint glow coming from the living room. And he can hear a muffled voice, someone is talking but he knows it’s not Soarynn. He walks further into the apartment and finds his girlfriend in her usual spot, curled up on the sofa with a blanket, wearing one of his pullovers. She looks so beautiful, so angelic while she sleeps.

He turns his attention to the television where Lucky Flickerman’s television show is playing softly. He knows why she’s watching him this late at night and it’s not because she’s a big Lucky Flickerman fan.

It’s because she’s scared to be alone.

That’s probably what makes Coriolanus feel the worst. Knowing that while he’s at the office or at some company dinner Soarynn is home alone, anxiously waiting for him to get back.

She’s fine during the day. She goes out with her friends, goes shopping, gets her nails done. But when the sun sets she gets nervous.

Coriolanus walks around the sofa and reaches down for the remote, turning off the television before he gently scoops Soarynn off the sofa, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla. She’s always smelled like vanilla. He’s always smelled like roses.

A perfect pair it seems.

Soarynn begins to mumble when they reach the bedroom, finally stirring from her sleep. “Hi pretty girl,” he whispers, nudging the doors shut with his foot. Soarynn slowly opens her eyes, nearly taking his breath away. She’s always been so stunning.

Soarynn reaches out and brushes his cheek with her finger tips as if she can’t believe he’s real. He often finds himself wondering the same thing about her.

Is this real? Is she real? Does she really love him?

He likes to think it’s real. He knows his love for her is real. “Coryo,” she whispers, “you’re home so late.” Coriolanus swallows at her statement and carefully sits down at the edge of the bed, holding her a little tighter in her arms. “I know, I got held up in a meeting and one thing led to another and I lost track of time. I’m sorry Soarynn.”

He knows it affects her. Upsets her. He’d be pretty upset too if he was in her position, waiting at home for her to get home just for her to be late and come home exhausted, barely able to give him any attention.

Soarynn doesn’t say anything but her eyes do. He chooses to ignore it, smooth over it. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises with a kiss on her head. Soarynn simply hums and closes her eyes letting him watch her sleep for a while before he puts her to bed so he can shower.

Coriolanus thinks of what he could do to make it up to her. All his late nights. He knows that at the end of the day everything he already does for her is more than enough. He pays for everything and makes sure Soarynn is well taken care of.

Soarynn already has everything she needs.

So what do you get for someone who has everything?

꧁ ꧂

“And what breed are they?”

Coriolanus asks the question as he looks down at the pen filled with small kittens who are all looking up at him. He must look like a giant to them.

The shop owner reaches down and picks one up, one with white and gray fur, “They’re ragdolls Mr. Snow, very sweet and they’ll fall asleep in your hands almost instantly.”

Just like Soarynn, he thinks, looking at the small cat. It’s not secret that his girlfriend can fall asleep nearly anywhere although she prefers to be in his arms.

Coriolanus nods, gingerly taking the kitten from the owners hands. It’s so small and warm, so fragile. And it does almost immediately fall asleep in his hold. Which is good in his opinion. He doesn’t need a car running around the apartment in the middle of the night. “You’re welcome to choose which ever one you like,” the owner says.

Coriolanus almost wishes he brought Soarynn with him but this is meant to be a surprise. He looks back down at all the kittens and one in particular catches his eye. It’s all white, jumping onto its siblings and when it looks up at him he swears he’s looking into Soarynn’s eyes. The kittens nose is so pink and he knows in that moment that this is the kitten for him.

“I’ll take the white one,” he nods to the small feline. The owner smiles, “Excellent choice sir. She’ll be the perfect companion.”

He sure hopes so.

The shop owner provides a box for transporting the kitten and he pulls out a roll of ribbon. “Would you like me to tie a little bow around her neck? I know the ladies love a gift that comes with a bow.” Coriolanus hadn’t really thought of the presentation aspect of this surprise but he knows Soarynn will love it. “Yes please, the bow will do quite nicely.”

꧁ ꧂

It’s a strange thing to walk into his apartment with a kitten in a box.

She hasn’t stopped meowing since they left the shop and he’s beginning to worry that she might never shut up. Thankfully she quiets down once he opens the lid to the box and shoots her a stern look. If she wants to live in his house then she’ll need to learn that his world is law.

“Soarynn?” He calls out, noting her keys on the entry way table meaning she’s home, “Where are you darling?”

He can see a few shopping bags in the kitchen but Soarynn is nowhere to be found. “I’m in the bedroom Coryo!”

Coriolanus makes sure the box is properly closed before walking to the bedroom where he finds his girlfriend sitting on the bed with her legs crossed while she folds clothes. They have a maid who comes once a week to do laundry but Soarynn often has a specific outfit in mind for an event and she takes matters into her own hands and does the laundry herself.

Coriolanus certainly isn’t complaining. Not when she does his too.

“Hello my love,” she says sweetly, looking up at him. She looks perfect as always. She’s wearing one of her silk nightgowns which means it’ll be a night in. It’s only six o’clock but Soarynn often prefers to lounge around before going to bed. She’s like a cat in more ways than one. She’s quite tedious when it comes to grooming herself. She has soft hair, startling eyes and she nearly purrs whenever Coriolanus touches her just right.

“Doing laundry are we?” He asks, stopping at the foot of the bed to watch her. It’s mostly lingerie which brings a smirk to his lips. He loves seeing her in it almost as much as he loves ripping it off of her. Soarynn hums, “Yes, I thought I should go through it, get rid of some of my older pieces.” When she goes to look up at him her eyes land on the box. The pretty pink box.

“What’s that?”

Coriolanus smiles, “Just a little gift. I know you get lonely when I’m at work so I bought you something,” he says, placing the box down infront of her. Soarynn gives him a nervous smile as she goes to open the lid, “Coryo you really didn’t have to get me anything,” she says softly, taking the lid off.

The gasp that leaves her mouth makes it all worth it for him. Watching her eyes widen as she looks down at the white kitten. She reaches in, ever so gently picking up the kitten in her hands. “Oh my goodness, oh my, oh, Coryo she’s beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, she’s perfect.”

Soarynn smiles at the kitten who is instantly taken with her and reaches out its tiny paws towards her face. Soarynn giggles and brings the cat towards her face, nuzzling her nose with the felines pink one. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest thing?” She asks the kitten, grinning when she hears a small meow.

“Do you like it?” Coriolanus asks, feeling it’s his duty to ensure Soarynn is thoroughly pleased with everything she gets, even if it’s a cat. Soarynn nods and beams up at him, “I love it. I absolutely love it Coryo, thank you.” He smiles, pleased to see himself as the loving and doting boyfriend once again.

Soarynn sets the kitten down and lets her crawl around on the bed, “She’s perfect,” Soarynn whispers, “wrapped with a bow and everything.”

The kitten seems quite curious about Soarynn’s lingerie collection and Coriolanus chuckles when her tiny claws get tangled in a lace bralette, “Oh don’t do that darling,” Soarynn tells her softly, scooping her back up. “What are you going to name her?” He asks, curious as to what Soarynn will name the feline. She ought to be taken to the vet tomorrow to be given the proper shots and have all her paper work down. She’ll need a collar as well.

Soarynn holds the kitten up as if inspecting her for damage, “Hmm, I don’t know. I’ve never had a pet before. Perhaps something distinguished, so she’s a proper Snow.”

Coriolanus can’t stop himself from smiling at his girlfriend’s words. How she considers herself and the cat a Snow already. Soarynn is practically a Snow, all she needs is the wedding ring and that’s not too far in the future as far as he’s concerned. But the fact that she wants the cat to be a proper representation of his family name further supports that Coriolanus made the right decision in dating Soarynn.

“What about a flower?” He suggests since the Snows are known for their roses. Soarynn sets the kitten down, “Rosy?” She asks, looking for a reaction. She gets none. Soarynn bites her lip, “Daisy? Is your name Daisy?” She tilts her head but the kitten gives no indication that she’s been named properly. Soarynn sighs, “Oh this is hard. I can’t imagine the pressure there will be for children.”

Coriolanus likes the thought of that. Of them having children. A cat is simply the first step. Soarynn snaps her fingers, “Petunia.” The kitten lets out a meow and Soarynn gasps, “That’s her name! Petunia!”

Petunia purrs in her hold and begins to wiggle as if asking to be put down and Soarynn obliges, watching her run around. “She’s got a lot of energy right now,” she notes. Coriolanus takes a seat next to her on the edge of the bed, “She’ll wind down when she’s older and supposedly she’ll fall asleep right in your hands.” Soarynn raises her eyebrows and looks down at Petunia who’s now batting a paw at Coriolanus and his pants. He sighs and gently pushes her away, “She’ll need to be trained Soarynn. Well behaved when people come over and she better not touch any of my furniture.”

Coriolanus is beginning to have second thoughts about bringing an animal into the home. Didn’t they bring in mites and disease? Not too long ago dogs were roaming the streets with rabies during the war. He looks down at Petunia who has now crawled into Soarynn’s lap. She’s from a reputable breeder and she seems clean. The vet will be able to assess her. At least that’s what he tells himself. “She’ll be perfectly behaved,” Soarynn says, giving Petunia a scratch behind the ears, causing the cat to purr.

He’s not too convinced. Coriolanus is quick to grab her chin between his fingers, getting her to look him in the eyes, “I’m serious Soarynn. One wrong move and she’s gone. Petunia is supposed to be your pet not your child.” Soarynn gives him a small pout but his resolve isn’t breaking and she can see that now. “Okay, I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble,” Soarynn promises, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And thank you for getting me a cat Coryo, she’ll be excellent company and you’ll come to love her you’ll see.”

Coriolanus isn’t too sure about loving the cat but he can tolerate her just fine as long as she stays out of his way and doesn’t steal all of his girlfriend’s attention. She was his first and she’ll be his last.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus groans when his alarm goes off. Six in the morning is brutal but necessary in his opinion to be successful throughout the day. He sits up and allows himself a moment to admire his sleeping girlfriend. Her head is practically on his pillow but she’s never been too good at staying on her side of the bed.

Coriolanus quietly slips out of bed and heads to the bathroom where he takes a nice hot shower. He keeps the door slightly cracked open just in case Soarynn is in the mood to join him. Every once in a while she’ll rouse from her sleep and hop in the shower with him before he goes to work.

And today is one of those days. He grins when his sleepy girlfriend pushes the door open, her nightgown nearly falling off her shoulders as she rubs her eyes. “Well isn’t this a lovely surprise?” He asks watching her step into the steamy shower after slipping off the nightgown. Soarynn gives him a shy smile before wrapping her arms around his neck, “The bed got so cold once you left,” she mumbles into his neck.

He chuckles and wraps his arms around her small waist, pressing a kiss to her head, “Is Petunia not around to provide you warmth?” Soarynn giggles and slightly pulls away, looking up at him with those eyes he could drown in, “You know she’s probably wide awake right now,” she says teasingly.

She has a point. It had taken them one night to learn that Petunia thrives at night. During the day she sleeps but during the night that cat is a ball of energy. Coriolanus had nearly banished her from their bedroom all together when she tried to play with his socks in the middle of the night. But thankfully she’s calmed down since then. The vet said as she got older she’d sleep more throughout the night and Coriolanus was counting down the days until that happened.

But she made Soarynn happy. So that counts for something he supposes.

All her friends adored Petunia and that cat lived better than most humans in his opinion. She had a pink collar, her own bed and a plethora of cat toys. Not to mention how many times Soarynn brushed her during the day. Spoiled didn’t begin to describe that cat.

Coriolanus simply hums before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He cherishes times like these the most with Soarynn. When it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. Soarynn returns it eagerly and her fingers card through his wet curls. Coriolanus slips his hands from her waist to her ass, squeezing it and smirking when she moans.

Coriolanus is a man who indulges in the little things and that includes steamy morning sex in the shower every once in a while. “It’s been a minute since I’ve taken you in here,” he mumbles against her lips. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, “Well here’s your chance.”

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus is all smiles as they walk out of the bathroom. He’s smiling like a school boy watching Soarynn’s naked body walking in front of him, a slight limp to her walk. He doesn’t hesitate to land a slap to her ass and Soarynn gasps, shooting him a look from over her shoulder, “You’re done for the day,” she tells him, her tone all too flirtatious to really mean it.

He cocks his eyebrow, “Well then it looks like I have my work cut out for me when it becomes night.”

Before Soarynn can even reply a white paw appears from under the bed, batting at her ankle. Soarynn giggles and couches down, playing with Petunia’s paw for a moment before the feline crawls out. She was probably under there all night along with the mountain of toys Soarynn has bought her.

“Good morning my sweet angel,” Soarynn says as she picks her up and spins her around. Petunia lets out a pleased purr before Soarynn brings her to her shoulder, holding her like an infant.

Coriolanus usually rolls his eyes at the sight, treating the cat as if she’s a human baby. But there’s something about it, seeing Soarynn act so motherly as if on instinct. She’ll be a wonderful mother where actual children are concerned.

He’ll propose soon. Maybe do it on the rooftop surrounded by his grandmothers roses. Whatever he does it’ll be perfectly romantic. The ring will be stunning, a ring fit for the wife of a Snow. The wife of Coriolanus Snow. He’ll pick out the perfect diamond, the perfect band, perfect box.

He’ll do everything perfectly and have it wrapped with a bow.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[whisker-biscuit]

The Lines We Cross: Chapter 5

Last Call

--------------------------------- 

Cause you're a force of nature Look at what you've done I can taste the danger But I don't wanna run

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

Muggshot’s hotel lobby was quiet. A few dogs lounged about on the center stairs, bored out of their minds but stuck on guard duty; the most excitement they’d seen in the last hour had been their boss hauling a cowed dalmatian out of the building before retreating back to his penthouse suit.

Then the front doors got busted in by the force of a single, powerful kick.

The guards all jumped up at once, but they had no time to react before the intruder made her first move. Inspector Fox shot three rapid electric bullets at point blank range and with pin-point accuracy. Her targets hit the ground almost simultaneously, and the lobby turned quiet once more.

Behind the cop who was now reloading her weapon, a raccoon carefully stepped over shattered wood as he made his way into the room. His eyes trailed up the stairway, falling upon the giant model of the bulldog’s face in all its self-centered glory where it had been built into the wall like a bulbous growth.

“Ugh.” Sly hated it. He wanted to rip that stupid cigar out of its mouth and then use it to burn the whole thing down. “Look at that ugly mug.”

“It is…certainly a very bold statement,” Inspector Fox replied with a wrinkled nose, not entirely knowing the reason for his disdain but obviously agreeing with it. “Even among all the egotistical types I’ve come across in the past.”

He made a face and turned to his left, where what used to be the hotel’s front reception desk now sat empty, devoid of practically every room key in the building. There was a noticeable closed-off cubby among the shelves behind the desk with a heavy-duty padlock keeping it shut.

“I think we found our secret way to the penthouse,” the raccoon said, gesturing to the spot.

She followed the direction of his hand and raised one eyebrow. Taking out the key they had gotten by the skin of their teeth, she walked around the side of the desk and carefully inserted it into the lock.

It turned with a loud click. The padlock came undone and she pulled open the rough wooden cover to reveal a remarkably shiny metal lever. The fox made a move as if to yank on it, then paused and drew her hand back cautiously.

“What if it’s a trap?” She stared at the lever as if it might grow teeth to bite her if she touched it. “That criminal could have said anything to make me let him go. It might be an alarm or something.”

“It’ll work.”

The cop shot him a look. “How can you be sure?”

“I just am.”

He met her gaze head-on, completely unfazed in the wake of her suspicious squinting. Let her try to crack through his poker face – she wasn't the first and she'd be as unsuccessful as all the others before her.

Then, as if taking his calm assertion as a challenge, she reached over and pulled the lever without breaking eye contact with him. There was a loud rumble and suddenly that giant bulldog face at the top of the stairs opened its mouth to reveal the promised secret elevator.

“Would you look at that,” Sly said coolly while Inspector Fox gaped. “Guess I was right and the dog wasn’t lying after all.”

“Yeah, well.” She closed her mouth and folded her arms in an obvious attempt to save face. “I suppose even criminals can tell the truth. Sometimes.”

He snorted, beginning to turn away. “Uh huh. Anyway, that should lead straight to Muggshot’s personal rooms. Now that you’ve got your straight path, you can wait for – what are you doing?”

The fox was heading up the stairs towards the open passage. She paused to look back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to apprehend Muggshot if he’s up there!”

“But – you –” Now it was the raccoon’s turn to gape. “Why? All you need to do to keep your job is lead your buddies straight to him, not try to take him down alone!”

“I risked this entire case and potentially the lives of my fellow officers. I can’t only do the bare minimum for reparations. If there’s a chance to apprehend such a dangerous individual with as few casualties as possible, I have to take it.”

She explained it so simply, so matter-of-factly, as if she was talking about writing a heartfelt apology letter instead of taking on the physically-strongest member of the Fiendish Five without backup or even a proper weapon. It was stupid, and foolish, and practically suicidal.

It made Sly angry.

“Are you sure it’s not just to show off to your boss so he doesn’t demote you?” He accused. “Trying to get all the glory before anyone else does to heal your wounded ego?”

The cop’s face pinched up in shock and anger, and he wondered with a touch of smugness if this was the first time a “civilian” had ever called her out.

She turned abruptly on her heel before he could dig that in, too. “Believe whatever you want. I’m going to confront Muggshot. Stay here where it's safe.”

Sly shook his head with a scoff. The blind, overconfident arrogance of this woman was on a whole other level. He should have known she was no different than the rest of them.

Inspector Fox stepped into the elevator, then turned to look at him one last time before the doors closed. He hadn’t moved an inch, watching her hold her head high like she was really about to make a difference.

The exact moment they disappeared from each other’s sight, the raccoon shot off like a rocket, taking the stairs two at a time as he started ascending the hotel floor by floor as high as he could go. “Stay here”, she’d said to a civilian. But Sly wasn’t a civilian, and he definitely wasn’t going to let this golden opportunity go to waste.

Technically, only the secret elevator could reach the top floor, but that was from inside the building. There were still windows up there, just as there were on every other floor, and Sly could see them as he climbed onto the outside ledge and craned his neck upwards. There was his old room in the same place he’d clocked it when he’d first come here with the cop, obvious by the bars Muggshot had installed the minute he’d settled on this being his base of operations. And two windows to the left of that, easily reachable with some careful scaling, was the mobster’s personal office.

Sly pulled his cane out of his backpack and extended it to its true length for the second time in one night. The Five had let him keep it all these years as a form of mockery, taunting him for his clumsiness with it, daring him to learn how to use it without any help from his father or his book. Daring him to impress them.

Well, here I go, assholes, he thought as he aimed the hooked end for the ledge above him in preparation for a jump.

 Eat your fucking hearts out.

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

Carmelita wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting when she reached the top floor. Piles of guns and cash everywhere, maybe, or more of the gangster’s imagery strewn about. What she hadn’t expected was to step into a large open room of what had probably once been a ballroom or club, expensive crystalline lamps scattered all across the purple carpet, and Muggshot himself sitting on a stolen plush chair on the other side of it all. She froze as they locked eyes, and her shock pistol was whipped out of her holster in an instant to aim up at him.

For his part, the bulldog looked just as surprised as she was.

“Wha?” He leaned forward in his chair, sounding completely bewildered. “My boys have been yapping about some big scary cop runnin’ around taking them down and, heh, and…and this is it? You’re the monkey wrench in my operation? Some scrawny chick with a pea shooter?”

The inspector inhaled, deep and steadying, and took a few steps forward. “Muggshot. You are under arrest. Put your hands up where I can see them and don’t make any sudden moves.”

Her free hand flashed her badge by the light of a nearby lamp. The mobster squinted at it, unbothered to even consider complying to her command.

“Ey, wait a second…I’ve seen that logo before.”

“I should hope so,” she snapped, quickly losing patience, “considering it belongs to me – Inspector Carmelita Fox.”

“Inspector? Wow. You’re with Interpol?” Muggshot leaned back again as if physically struck with offense. Still, his body language remained relaxed. “They really just let any average joe have a badge these days, huh?”

“Not just anyone – someone who is about to apprehend you for multiple instances of grand larceny, domestic terrorism, illegal gambling, and a whole other list of charges. Now, are you going to give yourself up?"

Now the bulldog finally tensed, but not in fear or worry. In fury.

“Wha-ha-ha-ha-what, are you kidding?” He stood up, staring her down, and she could see his raised hackles clear across the room. “You break into my place, attack my boys, trash the joint – I feel transgressed and violated!”

Carmelita tensed herself as he unholstered two huge, custom-made pistols.

“Let’s rock!”

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

Muggshot’s private office was filled with a lot more paperwork than one might expect from the meathead mobster, but most of what was probably juicy evidence that would have Interpol salivating was completely ignored by Sly as he started sweeping aside papers and pulling open drawers. The bottom drawer of the desk was full of stacks of cash, and the raccoon poached a strap of twenties without even slowing down in his search.

When the desk proved fruitless for what he was really after, he moved ahead to the nearest bookshelf and began flipping through binders filled haphazardly to the brim with God knew what – tax evasions schemes and casino renovation plans, probably.

A booklet fell out between the pages of one such binder, hitting the floor with a solid enough sound to catch Sly’s attention. When he glanced downwards, his own face stared back.

It was the passport the Five had forged for him, back when they had still used public airlines to ferry him between them before Muggshot had eventually gotten his own private plane. Sly picked it up and quickly leafed through it; the expiration date wasn’t set for another two or so years, which meant it was something he could use. He pocketed it alongside the appropriated cash and kept moving.

Almost a minute had passed from when he’d started ransacking the room, and nothing was turning up. The raccoon could hear bullets flying from down the hall, and his fur prickled with the knowledge that any moment those sounds would stop and he’d be fully out of time. He needed to get out of here, but he couldn’t leave without finding what he was looking for, but he couldn’t find any hint of where –

His eyes alighted on a giant portrait of Muggshot’s mother hanging on the wall behind the desk chair. As if compelled by some ancient instinct, Sly made a beeline for the thing. He lifted the heavy metal frame with no small amount of difficulty and set it carefully aside, revealing a hidden safe embedded into the wall.

It would have been laughable to see one of the only things Muggshot had learned from Conner Cooper’s legacy being how he’d hidden the Thievius Raccoonus, if it weren’t even more infuriating. The raccoon gritted his teeth and clenched his cane tight in his hand a moment to dispel the familiar wave of rage threatening to cloud his mind. He could be angry later, when he had stolen his pages back and was safely out of Mesa. Right now, he just needed to focus.

It was a fairly standard wall safe with an old-fashioned dial lock. Sly spun it several times to wipe it, then pressed his ear against the safe’s side and placed careful fingers to the knob. He closed his eyes as he slowly began turning the dial to the right.

Tuning out the world around him to hear only the slightest clicking beneath was second-nature by now. Numbers were passed one by one in a careful, gradual method, oblivious to the time crunch he was on. Haste makes waste – and gets you wasted. Even after all this time, his father’s voice was a powerful echo in his head. An echo that was right, to boot. He couldn’t afford to rush these things.

The first number of the combination was hit with a nearly imperceptible click of inner gears. Sly stilled his hand, made sure he could still hear Muggshot’s gun going off, then started running the dial counterclockwise for the next one.

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

A bullet whizzed through the air, cleaving the space Carmelita had occupied milliseconds ago as she ducked behind another crystal lamp. She didn’t know why the mobster had so many of these things, nor why they were bullet-proof, but she wasn’t about to question the only thing protecting her in this fight.

Halfway across the room, Muggshot growled when his shot missed, and began closing the distance between them way too quickly for someone his size. The inspector felt her heart pounding in her chest with every thump of his fists against the ground.

“You got a lotta nerve comin’ after a guy in his own home!” He hollered, firing again when she sprinted for more cover farther away. It ricocheted into the nearest window and shattered the glass into a thousand shards. “Ain’t there something in the cop rulebook about needin’ a warrant to do that?”

“Only if it was your rightfully owned property to begin with!” She couldn’t help yelling right back despite knowing that heckling criminals always made things worse. At least it gave her a little time to reload her own weapon as he sputtered and raged like an angry toddler.

Her original strategy when she’d come here was to intimidate Muggshot into surrendering quietly, and hitting him with a powerful shock or two if he refused. But he’d tanked four of her shots already without even flinching, and all it would take was one stray bullet from his end to put her down for the count. She was surviving on a mix of adrenaline, training, and pure dumb luck, and they both knew it.

Briefly she considered trying to flee for the elevator, to escape to the ground floor where it’d be easier to hide and snipe from an actually safe distance, but that idea was nixed as she remembered the raccoon waiting for her in the lobby. Even if she made it all the way down there unharmed, he didn’t have the instincts to survive a shootout, and she was not going to put the civilian she’d rescued in danger for a second time tonight.

Another bullet hissed just over her head. Inspector Fox took the cue to throw herself forward into a sprint for the next nearest lamp, aiming and firing her pistol wildly in his direction. The sounds of a grunt and electricity sparking against flesh weren’t very satisfying when it was followed by an almost literal hail of gunfire right on her heels.

She needed a new plan fast. There was only so much ammo she had on her, compared to Muggshot who seemed to pull spare bullets straight from thin air. Additionally, her breathing was labored, going on ragged, and at this rate it was only a matter of time before she was too slow to dodge a shot.

Rounding another crystal lamp - why were there so many lamps?! - Carmelita nearly tripped on something thin and long. It was an electrical wire attached to the base of the appliance, trailing out into the dark corners of the huge ballroom. Now that she had noticed, they were spread all across the floor, connected to every lamp and no doubt plugged into various outlets.

The lamps were all turned off, but if those outlets were live…

Muggshot growled, much closer than before, and there was no time to make a different decision. The inspector grabbed the wire, snapped it off the lamp, and jammed the newly-free end into the charge port of her shock pistol. She locked her jaw, steeled her nerves, and threw herself out in the open.

She could see the mobster react almost in slow motion – the bobbing of his head and the swivel of his body as he turned to aim both guns at her. But she had already been aiming when she’d jumped out from behind her cover, and those precious few seconds were all she needed to pull the trigger with Muggshot’s colossal chest directly in her crosshairs.

Her pistol lit up as if on fire, burning under her hand, and the kickback was enough to knock her flat on her back. She gasped for air as color exploded somewhere down in front of her, followed by a flickering of the chandelier above.

The fox lifted herself on one elbow just in time to watch Muggshot hit the floor like a sack of bricks. Smoke steamed lightly off his clothes and he twitched with electricity – then went still.

He was down for the count.

Carmelita heaved a sigh both relieved and exhausted, and let her head fall back against the carpet. She’d get up to properly disarm and restrain him in a second.

Right now, she just…needed a moment to catch her breath.

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

They were in his hands. The pages were actually in his hands.

Sly crouched against the wall under the safe, overwhelmed with contradicting emotions as he stared down at the eight or so pages held between trembling fingers. They were crumpled, and stained, and torn violently at the edges, but they were here. Real. In his possession again.

His free hand came up to his mouth as nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He was ecstatic. He was spellbound. He was – he was –

 Eight years old and they’re tearing apart the book why are they doing that why isn’t dad getting up –

 Ten years old and they’re taunting you with it laughing at you saying you’ll never read those pages never be a real Cooper –

 Thirteen years old and gold eyes are staring you down and your chest hurts and let’s make a deal, Sly Cooper, you and I –

The lights suddenly flickered, startling him out of his head and into the real world again. Sly fumbled for his backpack, stuffing the pages as quickly but delicately into the front pocket as he could, and managed to stand on only slightly-shaking legs. The sound of bullets had stopped.

If there had ever been a sign that he was out of time, it was that.

Scaling back down the outer side of the building was a lot harder than going up, mostly because he was still on some terrible, wonderful high of elation and terror. The raccoon clambered back in through a lower-level window, then started a light jog down the stairway until he was on the first floor again. He could hear sirens somewhere in the distance. It was impossible to tell whether those were Muggshot’s goons sounding an alarm or the actual cops finally arriving to help their Interpol inspector.

Didn’t matter much either way when he was going to be long gone before they ever showed up.

Sly passed the bulldog’s giant head-elevator without a second glance, but he began to slow as he reached the lobby’s front desk where he’d been told to wait. He didn’t know why he stopped when his eyes landed on that lever, but he did.

She was probably long-dead. No one went toe-to-toe with Muggshot and came out the other end without several bullets in their chest. He’d seen it firsthand, too many times to count. Even so, the raccoon found himself standing there, looking up at the elevator entrance, as if waiting to confirm the outcome for some reason he couldn’t name.

Maybe it was because she was one of the few people who’d shown real kindness and respect to him in the last eleven years, even if it was under the false assumption that he wasn’t a criminal. Maybe it was because the realization still hadn’t quite sunk in that he was finally free, finally able to go where he wanted and do what he wanted without it being at the beck and call of someone else.

Maybe he was just morbidly curious.

Whatever the reason, Sly decided to wait a minute. Just one minute. Sixty seconds to count down and see if anyone would come out, and then he’d blast out of here.

With fifteen seconds left to spare, the elevator started rumbling. The raccoon’s heart leapt into his throat and he jumped over the lobby desk to hide behind it, peeking carefully over the counter as the lift came to a stop and the doors opened.

Sly stared, and couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Out came Inspector Carmelita Fox, fully alive if not extremely worn-out, and without so much as a scratch on her body. She trudged down the shallow stairs and stopped only when she realized that her temporary ally wasn’t there to greet her. She lifted tired yet triumphant eyes to meet those of the raccoon who was still crouched behind the desk with his mouth agape.

“I did it, Ringtail,” she said, with an exhausted smile. “Muggshot’s reign over Mesa is no more.”

For the first time in years, Sly was at a loss for words.

--------------------------------- 

A/N: Aaaand that's the end of Muggshot! One down, four to go.

This was one of the first chapters I finalized months ago when I first started writing this fic out. It was really fun trying to merge the game's boss fight with how Carmelita would have to go about it, and how that might look like with just a tiny bit more realism.

Thanks again for reading!

[river-bottom-nightmare]

an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:

#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.

but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.

but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.

#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.

the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.

tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.

#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.

both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.

the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.

#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.

so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.

#5 : the splits

#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.

the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.

cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).

kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.

still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.

#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.

eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.

and then there were two.

kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.

kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.

#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.

right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.

somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.

tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.

#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?

it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.

maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.

besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.

he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.

maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.

#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.

kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.

so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).

understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.

kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.

i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to

also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy

[ragingbookdragon]

Do You Believe In Life After Love? PT. 2

Arkhamverse!Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language and Angst

Author's Note: I have emerged victorious from my second round with the enemy known only as...The Cringe...it was a glorious battle and I FUCKIN' WON IT. Enjoy that I have now edited two previous stories to read better for y'all! -Thorne

Her cowl was discarded somewhere on the penthouse floor, but she couldn’t’ve been bothered to even care about it since most of Gotham either knew who she was now, or they strongly suggested they did. Even if they did know, they still treated her with the same respect as when she was unknown. She moved automatically to the bar as she unclipped the cape from her shoulders, letting it fall with a thud in a heap of leather as she poured herself a generous glass of bourbon. Setting it on the table, she undid her gauntlets, one coming off, and then the other.

She picked up the glass and walked around the bar towards the couch and coffee table. A flashing red light caught her eye and she looked over, seeing the landline blinking on the side table. As she swirled the amber liquor around in her glass, her fingers pressed the button on the answering machine. Her eyes turned to the heavily tinted windows, and she stared at the city below the penthouse as the machine spit out its usual tone.

“You have one new message, Friday, December 19th.” A sigh sounded through the line, followed by a soft and barely cheerful voice. “(Y/N)? It’s me, Dick…calling for…the seventh time this week.” He let out another sigh, and this time, his voice betrayed his feelings. “Look, I know it’s been hard on you since Bruce…died…but I really think it would be good for you if you got out of Gotham for a while, even if it was just coming over to Blüdhaven for a few weeks.” The line went silent, and after a moment, his voice picked up. “…I really miss you sis and I know that you’re suffering from the weight of keeping Gotham in check. Let Lucius carry it for a while and come spend Christmas with me…Look, I have to go to work now, but please think about it (Y/N). For me…and for Bruce and Alfred…they wouldn’t want you to keep all this up…so…just gimme a call back and we’ll plan something, okay? I love you sis…bye.”

The mention of her departed father and butler made her heart tighten so painfully in her chest that it seemed to stop her from breathing and (Y/N) looked down at her glass, seeing a diluted reflection she didn’t recognize staring back.

Lately, it seemed like every time she caught her reflection as Batgirl, she appeared less and less like she remembered, image darkening with every passing night she was out on the streets alone, fighting with no backup, with nobody in her ear telling her where enemies were or encouraging her for a job well done. She could tell that the woman who wore the cowl and the woman who was the cowl were starting to become one instead of two different people, much like her father appeared sometimes. And while it had been his thing when he was alive, it wasn’t her. She was somebody outside the cowl, but now? Now she didn’t know who was Batgirl and who was (Y/N) Wayne—and the divide between was only it was getting worse as it closed closer and closer to the line.

She finally remembered how to breathe and inhaled deeply, shoving it aside and looking back out the window. His image caught in her eye before she focused on the skyline, her voice firm as she said, “You know, I have to wonder…when you kill someone, do you ever get a little voice in your head that tells you it’s wrong…Arkham Knight?”

(Y/N) spun around, turning her attention to the man standing beside her coffee table, dressed in a suit that was armored similarly to his earlier one a few months back, though the colors were different, and he wore a dark jacket with white leather patches along the shoulders and arms. The helmet was different too, instead of mimicking the ears of her father’s cowl, his was simply rounded and crimson in color, though she bet that his visor input ran on the same tech her father’s did. Her eyes briefly fell to the red bat symbol painted across his chest, and for a moment, everything seemed to fade until the anger came back to her.

She clapped a hand to her chest, her voice cheerfully fake. “Oh, silly me, I forgot! You’re not going by Arkham Knight anymore! You’re going by ‘The Red Hood’!” Her voice lost the fakeness, replaced by a hard edge and she leaned back against the window, suppressing the urge to shiver from the chill, her eyes dark. “What do you want, Jason?”

He stood up straight, his head tipping upwards, and she couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew they were trained on her. “I wanted to see you.”

(Y/N) scoffed, a smile crossing her lips. “Well, you saw me. Now fuck off.”

Jason sighed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, so you mean you wanted to see how I was doing after you ruined mine and the lives of the people I cared about?” He said nothing, and she leaned over, finger running along the button of the answering machine. “You wanna see me, Jason? Well how about you listen to this?”

She hit play, and a message came through. “(Y/N) Wayne? This is Vicki Vale. I really would like to talk to you about what’s happened in the past few months, and with your dad—”

(Y/N) hit the next button, and another voice filled the room. “(Y/N), this is Jack Ryder. Listen, I know you’ve been hounded by reporters since it’s been revealed that your dad was Batman. I want to talk to you about—”

She hit stop, glowering back at him as she pointed to the machine. “Every. Day. Every day I get the same messages over and over and over again. (Y/N) Wayne are you Batgirl? We should talk about it! Your dad was Batman, so you must be Batgirl! How are you going to pay for all the damage and destruction your dad did all these years? How are you going to answer for what he’s done? How can we trust Wayne Enterprises anymore? What’s it like having to pick up the pieces of a broken life after your dad…after your dad…”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth. The tears ran down her cheeks, cascading over her hand, and she glared at Jason, her voice raw with emotion. “Everything that’s happened…is all your fault.”

He took a step towards her, shoulders squared as he placed a hand to his chest. “You can’t blame this all on me, (Y/N). Bruce was the one who activated the Knightfall Protocol—not me.”

Her lips wobbled as she countered hoarsely, “After Scarecrow revealed his identity because of events that you put into place.” She placed the glass on the table, spreading her arms. “So, have you gotten your revenge, Jason? Does it feel better to know that you succeeded in killing my dad? In killing Batman?”

He looked away and something wrathful inside (Y/N) snapped; she picked up the liquor glass and chucked it as hard as she could, missing him by an inch as it hit the wall. It shattered into a million shards as the amber liquid trickled down the wall, and her words came out enraged. “ANSWER ME DAMNIT!”

He met her eyes and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, hands flexing at his sides. “I didn’t mean for all this to happen,” he said, and she barked a laugh full of disbelief.

“What did you think was going to happen, Jason? Reveal who Batman was, kill my dad, and everything else was just gonna work out in the end?” She pointed to the street below. “I can’t walk ten feet out of this building without being hounded by press and reporters about everything.”

She shook her head, feet carrying her past him towards her bedroom. “You get off scot-free with anonymity and I get stuck cleaning up a giant shitstorm. Figures. You can find your way out.” She hadn’t made it a step past him when a hand shot out and curled around her bicep, pulling her back.

(Y/N) thrashed, trying to yank her arm away from his grip. “Let go of me!”

Jason’s grip tightened, and he grabbed her other arm. “No!” He leaned close to her, his voice firm. “We’re not leaving this alone anymore. We’ve been circling one another since that night, and I’m done playing games, (Y/N). We’re talking about this.”

She huffed in disbelief, staring at him. “There is nothing to talk about, Jason.” (Y/N) waved a hand between them. “What we had…it’s gone.”

“Are you sure it is? Because as much as you seem to hate me, you can’t stay away from me whenever we’re patrolling Gotham together.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, firstly, I follow you to make sure you don’t kill innocent people. And secondly, I’m pretty damn sure what we had is gone. I think about punching you more than I do anything else.”

He hummed, staring down at her and she was starting to get the urge to right-hook him when that familiar smugness set in his gaze. The same smugness he used to pull with her a few years ago when they were together. A memory flashed of Robin and Batgirl arguing, her annoyed and him smug as hell.

“I don’t believe you,” he countered lightly.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe, Jason. The truth is we aren’t together anymore.” She started squirming again. “Now let go of me and get the hell out of my penthouse.”

He fell silent and simply stared at her before responding quietly, “Tell me you don’t love me or that you don’t need me anymore and I will.”

(Y/N) froze and her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?” Her voice was a whisper, as Jason released one of her arms, his gloved hand coming up to caress her cheek.

“You can tell me that we’re done all you want, (Y/N).” His hand left her cheek, rising to pull the jacket-hood from his head and yank the helmet off. He tossed it on the couch and Jason gazed at her, his teal eyes boring into hers. “But until I hear you tell me that you don’t love me anymore, I’m not moving from this spot.”

He held his head high, looking down at her. “So, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll go.” Jason searched her gaze. “I’ll go and I’ll never come back.”

(Y/N) stood there, the breath in her lungs frozen as they watched each other. After a moment, she lowered her head and murmured, “I don’t…I don’t…” She stopped, swallowing thickly, the tears that had swelled in her eyes threatening to run down her cheeks. “Oh, fuck it…I can’t do it.”

(Y/N) brought her hand up, covering her eyes even though the tears were already streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t tell you I don’t love you because…I still do love you.” She lowered her hand, gazing up at him. “And I never really stopped…no matter how furious I’ve been at you.” (Y/N) went slack against him, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Damn you, Jason Todd…damn you.”

His breath was hot against her ear as he chuckled lowly, tightening his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back a bit, looking at him teary eyed. “This doesn’t mean everything is okay now. I still want to beat the ever-living shit out of you.”

He huffed. “I know you do.”

Her voice turned watery. “I’m still pissed, and you’re still pissed and we’ve gotta work through that to get better.”

Jason nodded. “We will, (Y/N).” His hands cupped her cheeks, and he brushed his thumbs under her eyes, wiping the tears away. “I love you.”

(Y/N) nodded, burying her face in his chest. “I love you too.”

Do you believe in life after love?

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 || Next

-----

Until a trip to Gotham came knocking on the front doors

“I can’t believe Lie-la of all people managed to somehow get us the trip to Gotham!” Mari moaned with a mixed expression on her face.

Adrien, who was walking next to them, showed absolute disgust. “Technically, It was my father and I that did the heavy lifting. She really wanted to go to the Wayne Gala and…”

“What Lie-la wants, Lie-la gets.” The three finished in unison before laughing a bit. 

“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I can promise you that this no good liar won’t get to ruin your return home.” Chloe pulled her best friend closer. Best friend. Much better than a servant. Who would’ve thought? “And we can even try to find your mom on free Saturday.”

“Yeah…” The girl with black-blue hair didn’t seem particularly cheerful at that. 

“Now I refuse to have you making sad faces throughout the whole flight. You cheer up right this moment and that’s an order!” The blonde commanded. 

“Yes, Maman-bear.” Mari giggled.

The three of them finally arrived at the rest of the class, who were already gathered around madame Bustier. Of course, Lila was bragging about a million different things, but the three paid her no mind. Adrien did his best to hide behind the girls, cherishing the last moments of freedom. Finally, Mari and Chloe had to step forward for their tickets. The blonde got hers without any problem, but for Mari there turned out to be none.

“I’m so so sorry Marinette!” Lila said with fake regret. “I must have accidentally miscounted the number of students… It must’ve been when I was helping those poor orphans. You know, at…”

“Sure…” Mari didn’t even try to act as if she believed her for a moment. When Lila scowled, realizing that it didn’t affect the girl, she smiled. “I guess Chlo, Adrien and I will have to go with the contingency plan number 1.” 

“What?!” The sausage-hair shouted.

“Of course my Daddy would not send us to travel like peasants. We have tickets for the first class.” Chloe supplied, looking smugly. “We did plan to maybe sit with the rest of the class. What a shame…”

“Yeah, My dad also didn’t want me to travel anything less, but I convinced him to let me stay with my friends. Guess he will get what he wanted in the end.” For his part, Adrien at least tried to look apologetic. He didn’t try hard at all, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“But… But…” Lila tried to come up with something, likely a lie, to counter it. She didn’t have time as the trio handed their teacher the filled forms from their parents/guardians/Nathalie and proceeded to the plane. The tickets were personal, so she couldn’t do anything. The Italian girl came up with a lie to tell to the class, but it would do no good until they landed. 

--------

“Did you see her face?” Plagg was rolling in the air while holding a giant roll of camembert. 

“You were amazing my queen.” Pollen complimented. 

“I still can’t believe your dad just… bought out the whole first class!” Marinette sighed. 

“Phi! Daddy always gives me only the best. You should know it by now, Mari-bear.”

“Okay. Mari. You are the Gotham expert here. Any advice?” Adrien asked a bit more seriously. 

“Gotham survival guide is probably unlike any other city.” She started. “The first rule is, believe it or not, run away if a person laughs too much or smiles too widely. The downside of living in the same city as the Joker is that most people don’t laugh in public. Secondly, never show that you are lost. Wherever you are, it’s exactly where you wanted to be. Finally, the third is to never flaunt your wealth.” She looked critically at Chloe before taking away her purse and lipstick in a golden case. “This,” She then pulled a mobile phone in a ridiculously sparkly case and popped it out of the cover, “this,” finally, she detached the golden chain on which the purse was supposed to be suspended and replaced it with a pre-prepared white one with copper clips, “and this must all go away.” 

“Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! Now it will totally clash with my comb!” Chloe complained.

“Oh no! How will you ever survive that?” Mari deadpanned. All three of them had another burst of laughter. After they calmed, Adrien started.

“Do you think it’s wrong that I want to bet which rule will Lila break first?”

“Ten macaroons she will say out-loud about money.” Mari threw. 

“I raise, four tea parties she will start by asking for direction.” Chloe had a grin on her face

“Are you sure?” Adrien asked. When the blonde nodded, he shrugged. “Movie night and double popcorn bowl refill that she will do both in one conversation.”

“Hi, could you be so kind to point me to my exclusive hotel? You know, I’m staying at the penthouse of this luxurious new one.” Mari gave a quite good parody of Lilia. 

“So to sum up, the pool is now ten Macaroons, Four Tea parties, and movie night with triple popcorn?” Chloe asked. When they nodded, she quickly noted it on her phone. 

“Now, who wants a movie? I think they have the newest Thomas Astruck one.” Adrien pulled a disc from the container next to his seat.

“Good for me!/Go!” The girls said. Chloe, who was in the middle loaded it and the other two leaned onto her to watch together. The three were happy. Faintly in the background, there was knocking on the doors to their part, but nobody paid attention to very angry Liela and some classmates. For some reason, the doors were stuck and the blinder rolled down. Later if someone asked, Pollen would deny everything. 

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

When the plane landed, the class was practically kicked out. The team walked calmly down the stairs, all of them having smug expressions. Lila wanted to comment, but a glare from Mme. Bustier shut her up quickly. Mari and co. would later try to guess, what got the crew so pissed at their classmates.

Once everyone was accounted for, the class made its way to the customs to retrieve their luggage. There was a small problem with Mari’s travel bag as it was apparently misplaced to the flight to Timbuktu, but luckily her true suitcase, which had her things inside, arrived safely. She giggled at the thought of custom office in Timbuktu receiving a bag full of Adrien’s old socks that smelled camembert. 

Overall, the airport went mostly unproblematic. At least until they found themselves cleared and gathered in one place while Mme Bustier left to check on their bus. One of the men, wearing a dark blue suit started to laugh almost maniacally. Everybody immediately cleared away from him, out of sheer self-preservation. Lila must’ve decided that a show of kindness was a good way to regain class’ good grace. She was confidently approaching the man before suddenly Mari grabbed her and pulled her away. The designer might’ve despised the liar, but Joker… you don’t mess with Joker. 

Of course, Lila used the chance. She faked falling on the ground and started crying crocodile tears. “Marinette?! How can you be so heartless? I wanted *sniff* to check on the man and you trip me?” Lila sniffled, eyes watering with crocodile tears.

“I might have saved your life genius!” Mari snapped. Joker was a really touchy subject with her. “Does the world Killer Clown mean something?”

“Don’t invent things, you bully!” Alya shouted. That seemed to break the dam and at once the class started to say awful things to Mari. A year ago, it would hurt her. Half a year ago, she would be sad. Now? Now she pitied them. Chloe didn’t, and she was ready to jump to protect her best friend. 

“Ridiculous! Do you like… share a single brain cell? What if that man was…” she didn’t get to finish because Mme. Bustier returned. The commotion immediately calmed. By now the man stopped laughing and returned to talking with his friends.

“The bus is waiting. Come on children. Follow me.”

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

Arriving at the hotel, the class was split into different rooms. Of course, Lila tried to lie her way into some privilege, but Mari was too dead inside to care. The Jet Lag was killing her. At least she got some sleep on the plane. From the rumors she heard from the class, they didn’t because of Lila’s drama with the staff. 

“Now I want you all to be ready here at eight a.m. sharp. A Wayne Enterprises representative will come here to explain the details of internships.” Mme. Bustier instructed them. This, for some reason, caused outrage in students.

“What do you mean internships?!”

“Wayne Enterprises?”

“Shouldn’t we be preparing to go to Gotham Academy or something?”

The terrible trio in the back had trouble holding back laugher. Adrien warned the girls about what his father planned, so they could all prepare. Gabriel Agreste, devious as he is, decided to punish Lila and teach Adrien something about running a company at the same time and using his connections to put the class up for an internship at WE. He did send the liar all the details, but she must have skimmed over the corporate jargon because the class was fed overexaggerated stories about what they would and wouldn’t do during two months trip. 

Most parents were more than happy to send their children away from Paris for two months, especially since the Internship was free and the employment rate after it was quite high. WE kept quite a lot of the interns, if only out of habit. But perhaps it was mostly because the class has become a go-to place for the Akuma. Only Mr. Pidgeon and perhaps Gigantitan were akumatized more often. Mari actually picked up to cleansing their class weekly through a ritual she learned, otherwise there would be enough residual dark energy to power a demon portal. Not something one would want in the middle of a classroom.

“I was told you’ve all read the brochure provided and Lila summarised it for you.”

“I did!” The sausage hair defended. “Marinette must have told them some imaginary story about the trip!”

Immediately, several other people started to nod and confirm this. Chloe actually started to walk toward the liar almost red, but Mari grabbed the back of her blazer and held her in place. All the while she had a completely deadpan expression like it was normal for her (it was).

Mme. Bustier sighed. “Well, In that case, I will…”

“Excuse me, but shouldn’t we be going to sleep today already? We don’t want to be late tomorrow.” Adrien asked with an innocent expression, but there was some satisfaction hidden there too.

“Well… um… I…”

“We will be going then.” Chloe grabbed the key and led Mari to their room. Calline didn’t even question it. She wanted a pay raise after this. 

-----------

The next morning, Mari was woken by a frantic Chloe

“Mari-bear! It’s already late! You don’t want to be late for your first day of Internship girl! It would be utterly Ridiculous!” 

At first, the girl mumbled something, but once she finally processed everything she leaped out of her bed and started getting ready in record time. She was brushing her teeth, packing her purse, and tossing clothes at her best friend all at once. Once she had everything, she turned to see Chloe on the ground tied with a gray blazer. Mari just burst out laughing.

“How…”

“Ridiculous!” Chloe shook her head. “I demand you untie me this instant! We don’t have time for this!”

Once they dressed and did their hair, both girls were ready. Chloe now had a black button-down shirt, deep red blazer, and a matching pencil skirt. Mari also made her wear smart black stilettos (instead of her usual that were slightly more extravagant). The look was completed by a tablet in leather flip-over cover. Mari had a similar outfit, except her shirt was white and the suit was in dark blue. She opted for flat shoes to spare the embarrassment that was Marigold on heels.

“Ready to rock Gotham City?”

“Like you have to ask.” Mari smiled. There was something about the city of crime that made her feel safe and open up more. Maybe being on home turf gave her the much-needed confidence boost. 

When Chloe tried to open the doors, she found them stuck. She was about to go on a rant about poor quality when Mari casually grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. There was a faint creaking sound as the mechanism gave.

“Um…”

“It must’ve been old,” Chloe said with a devious grin. “Nothing happened. Don’t you worry! I will deal with it.”

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

When the doors to the elevator opened and two girls strode into the lobby, their class was already pushing toward the exit. Adrien looked very much uncomfortable with Lila hanging off his arm, literally sinking her claws into him. He mouthed them a muted ‘later’. Alya stared at the girls with loathing. 

“Ah, you are here.” Mme. Bustier spoke. “Lila said…”

“Whatever.” Chloe dismissed their teacher. “Aren’t we in rush?” The blonde practically seethed the last word. 

“Yes, good to see that someone is responsible.” The teacher gave Mari a pointed look. Apparently, she still didn’t get over the fact that she resigned from the class rep position. 

“But…”

“Drop it. She is not worth it.” Chloe whispered. “Daddy will take care of that once we are done.”

Mari just nodded. She knew Chloe was preparing a lawsuit against the school, but their hands were tied until they graduated or Damocles could try and undermine it. Both girls knew that no adult would help them with the lawsuit beyond Chloe’s father signing whatever dotted line she asked him to. That man was more whipped than a fresh can of whipped cream. 

The ride to the WE was short and uneventful. Girls took up to gossiping in English, effectively limiting any eavesdropping. Mari spent most of the time tearing down the outfits of all the villains. She started with Riddler, more as a joke than actual rant, but then she somehow got onto this new guy Anarky. From there, she just kept on, smoothly sailing from one to the next. Even her mom got some shots. Mari still couldn’t stand how skimpy it was. Her rant carried over when they exited the bus and entered the WE. Security led them to a conference room, where they were told to take seats. 

Mari guessed that it wouldn’t be Lila if she didn’t immediately start sputtering lies about how well she knew the building already because of her Damiboo giving her private tours (All while clutching Adrien like a leech). She didn’t have enough ducks left to give to try to expose Lila about several facts. Such as that Damian Wayne definitely wasn’t living with Bruce when he was five. Any Gothamite could tell her that. Bored, she returned to her rant. 

She was nearing the end of the list and was very much engaged in complimenting Harley Queen for her recent change in wardrobe. She still considered it a disaster, but at least it was somehow human. 

“Ekhm…” A voice broke her out of the rant. “Good morning. My name is Richard Grayson. You are the french class chosen for the internship program, correct?” When people nodded, he continued. Idly, Mari noted that Alya and Lila stiffened and suddenly stopped talking at all. “We reviewed the individual profiles and appointed each of you a mentor that will help you settle into your roles. As I read the names, please come forward so I can update your badges. Do carry them on your person all the time or we will have to take you to our human cloning facility.”

People stared at him. 

“Okaaay… That’s that about jokes…” He sighed. “The rules will be explained by individual departments. Now, who’s up for a tour?” 

People started to cheer at that and Dick smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad?

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

It was that bad. Even worse. He knew from the background check that the class was both insanely talented… and borderline criminal. It was like someone de-aged the Rogues and put them in one class. The report called them Akuma class, which (if google is to be believed) meant demons. He questioned how they got accepted into the internship. 

They only toured two floors when Dick wanted to tear half of them to shreds. He noted immediately that they were bullying the girl with black (slightly blue? Maybe it was dyed?) hair. What surprised him was that the teacher didn’t react. If he was to be honest, the girl and her friend slightly irritated him too. They kept talking and seemed to ignore him. It was not because they kept tearing down each and every bats’ fashion choices. Definitely not that. When they brought up Discowing he had enough. 

“Ekhm. Excuse me, girls,” he stared at them. Both immediately stopped talking and looked at him. “Could you pay attention? I wouldn’t want any of you to waste your internship lost on our maze-testing floor.”

“There is no maze-testing floor in this building.” The blonde pointed out.

“And besides, we memorized all you’ve said.”

“Care to recall?” He heard several people groan at his pun.

“The first floor is most representative, where guests are welcome and low-level meetings happen. There is a separate kitchen for employers there that is always fresh on fruits. Don’t use the coffee machine there as it was only patched up and there is a high chance it will set itself on fire again. The…”

“Fine. You’re good. Still, I don’t appreciate the chatter.”

“They are always trouble!” A girl in bright pink colors shouted. 

“Yeah! Why do you have to ruin this trip for Lila!?”

“You’re just jealous of her boyfriend!”

More voices like this came from the crowd of kids. Dick started to feel bad that he singled the girls out. It definitely gave the class a reason to gang up on them. And the teacher still did nothing! He sighed. What did HR think when they accepted them. He would have to look into it later.

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

Mari decided that she didn’t like Dick. Everyone in their class kept talking, but for some reason, he singled them out. For the rest of the trip, she made sure to pay as much attention as she could. There was this silent determination on her face. Chloe wisely also kept silent. 

After the trip class was led back to the conference room where another employer handed out the identificators and folders containing their assignments. 

“Keep the IDs on you at all times. As opposed to the ones you received, this won’t expire and are synched with your jobs, so you will have access to anything you might need. They are also mandatory to receive lunch in our canteen. When you get acquainted with your tasks, you can go to the level specified at the end of sheet one. Your mentor will meet you there.” With that, he left. Dick really needed to do some in-depth research on this class. Something kept icking his detective sense.

“Well, I’m going to the law department. Apparently whoever made the assignments knew my well.” Chloe bragged to her friend after opening the folder. 

Timidly, Mari also opened her folder. She skimmed over what was inside and groaned. “Apparently, I’m interning as personal assistant to one Tim Drake.”

“They actually assigned you to the sleep-deprived coffee addict?” Chloe asked in disbelief.

“You know him?” She asked in surprise

“He and his brother ruined my daddy’s parties two years ago. They got into an argument that ended up with them wrestling over a cake. It took me weeks to get the cake out of my hair! Weeks!” The blonde summarized.

“oh…” Mari tried to hold back the giggles.

“Don’t laugh! It’s a serious matter! Do you have any idea how much work it takes to have such a perfect hair?!”

“Of course… cakehead.” The girl couldn’t stop herself.

“Ugh, you… you… plant leg.” Chloe said.

“Really?” Mari raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best you can come with?”

“Well, I usually have better things to do than thinking about good insults.” Still, Chloe hugged her best friend. “Be careful. I wouldn’t put it past The Liar to try and sabotage you somehow.”

“I’ll be careful. Wish me luck.”

-----

The elevator took Mari all the way to the highest floor. When the doors opened, she stepped int a large room with one desk. As soon as the doors closed, the woman who was standing there rushed toward her. The girl tensed for a moment but she reminded herself that there is no real threat.

“Oh finally! I was asking them to hire someone else for months!” She had a messed bun of red hair on her head and looked like she didn’t sleep in a week.

“But… I’m just an intern madame!” Mari tried to explain.

“An intern?” The woman paused her packing and stared at the girl with wide eyes.

“Um… Madame Sarah Jackson?” 

“Yes. An intern…” She said in a disappointed voice to herself. “Ah! That’s no problem at all!” She started to tap on her Waynetech Tablet and after a moment she smiled. “There! You’re hired!”

“Wha…?!” Mari shouted, but was interrupted when Sarah pushed the tablet into her hand, followed by a large box full of documents and a small mug with a coffee bean pointing a gun at the reader and words ‘Your Coffee or your life!’.

“They are your problem now! Everything you need is in the box. I left detail about ongoing stuff and whatever you might need. Don’t call. I’m outta here!” She shouted before grabbing her personal belonging and leaping into the elevator.

“But…! But…!?” Mari shouted after the closing doors. She could hear a cheerful shout as the elevator left the level. 

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

Next

[miekasa]

and i found them! the actual ac unit snippet was hiding with the last one, so i thought i’d just drop them both here 😅 your appreciation means the world to me 🌼

💉the broken ac unit snippet [not the previous choppy summary, but the actual snippet that was hiding with erwintholomew’s]

it’s summer—dry heat, humidity, and warm winds all around. oc has been working in the outdoor makeshift hospital for her month’s rotation shift. tents of covid cases have been overflowing. it’s patient after patient, and she’s in PPE—full-on hazmat suit for 8 hours (sometimes more). food and water breaks between shifts aren’t feasible because they’re saving suits, bathroom breaks are timed before or after she suits up. it was literally hell.

levi’s been noticing his roomie coming home even more exhausted than usual. sometimes, she just goes to the kitchen and drinks down two glasses of water before heading for a nap. he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. she looked like she’s lost a bit of weight. she was always a little paler and seemed to be wilted these days. he’s been trying to quietly shoulder a bit more of her chores, but he’s also pretty amazed at how she manages to keep up.

it was on a saturday afternoon when he found out. he had work and errands to run and some packages to send to his mom. he knocks on his roomie’s door to ask if she wanted him to do anything for her. he’s willing to do her groceries or make her dinner if it meant seeing her eat something other than instant ramen or a peanut butter sandwich. her muffled voice bids him to come in.

oc: oh heya

she gives him a tired wave. she’s sitting on her bed, reading something on her tablet. the first thing levi notices is that it’s way too fucking hot. her room is neat with a bit of a mess, a few notebooks strewn around her bed and a shirt hanging on the study chair, but obviously clean. the fan she has turned on was doing nothing to alleviate the heat though.

levi: you know you can turn your ac up in this heat right?

oc gives a tired chuckle at that.

oc: it’s been broken for a few weeks, but don’t worry! i already got a new one

levi is pretty speechless, considering that the heat wave has only been getting worse for the past month. she points to the unopened giant box crowding the space by her work desk.

oc: work’s just been exhausti—busy lately, but i’ll get around to it. i just need to switch them out and take the old one to recycling downstairs.

levi honestly doesn’t have anything to say to that because what the hell—

oc: did you need something?

he snaps out of it.

levi: i’m—i’m going out for errands. want me to get you anything?

oc: oh, are you passing by the pharmacy?

he wasn’t planning on it, but levi nods.

oc: yeah hang on, lemme just write the prescription for my pills. thank you!

levi shuts her door and speedwalks to his room. he knows he’s being irrational, and he knows that it isn’t his fault but fuck, she’s been living like that for weeks on top of all her work. he turns up his ac unit, rolls down his blinds, and fluffs the pillows on his bed before pulling the covers down. he knows that he could offer the suggestion of sleeping on the couch in their living room (they had an ac unit there after all), but no. she deserves better than that.

when levi walks back to her room, oc’s head peeps out of the door.

oc: here, i just need three boxes and i can cashapp you the payment.

levi grunts, taking the prescription and folding it into his pocket.

levi: come with me.

oc is pretty taken aback at his gruff tone, and she wonders what’s gotten him in a twist. she’s on the verge of passing out because work has been brutal and she has a golden weekend, so she was planning to catch up on a lot of rest. she follows quietly, wanting to quickly resolve whatever this was. her roomie’s always been a little...weird. it gets weirder when she realizes that he’s leading her to his room. cold air hits her when he opens the door and ushers her in, and she feels reborn.

levi: you can rest here for now

oc’s eyes widen at that. they’ve been roomies for over a year now, and respecting personal spaces has always been a huge factor contributing to their civil harmony as roommates.

oc: levi, it’s fine! i can’t, really! i don’t want to intrude, and besides, it’s fine, i—i’ve been alright anywa—

she’s cut off when he starts nudging (pushing) her towards the bed.

levi: seriously, i’ll be out the whole afternoon.

her but’s and what-if’s and i’m-fine’s fall on deaf ears. her roomie maneuvers her expertly and practically trips her to make her fall onto the bed. when her back hits the soft mattress, she feels a wave of fatigue hit. then he’s guiding her head towards the pillows while she mumbles about feeling like she’s overstepping, but levi’s room was cold and comfortable. the bed was a cloud, cool and soft and dragging her further into sleep. she feels the covers pulled up around her shoulders, and darkness claims her.

levi leaves quietly after shutting down the fan in her room. his afternoon is spent running some on-the-ground tasks for projects for work and personal errands. he does take an impromptu trip to the old deli near their place to buy some cuts of beef and a cheap bottle of red wine for a stew. he wonders if he’s breaching boundaries, but he makes an impulsive decision for once. he’ll drag her to dinner if he has to, she looks like she hasn’t had a decent meal in days. when he gets home, it’s late afternoon, but the sun was still up in all its scorching heat. he disinfects the goods thoroughly before heading for a shower himself. oc is still sleeping soundly when he checks in on her [levi thoughts: good, she really fucking needs it]. he goes into her room and replaces her broken ac unit, easily installing the new one and padding up the sides tightly. he brings the old one down before sweeping up the dust in her room that has settled from his handiwork. he turns it on to test it, and her room cools in minutes. satisfied, he leaves the ac unit on and starts dinner.

oc comes to slowly, mind still clouded and heavy from sleep. everything around her is blurry and she’s engulfed in softness smelling of black tea and spearmint. the realization of where she is hits like a freight train and this wakes her right up. the time on the clock by the bed says it’s almost half-past seven, and oc panics. she’s overstepped, her roomie’s gonna be pissed, and oh god, she didn’t mean to take that long of a nap. she practically runs out of his room. levi is setting two places at their table when she dashes in. a pot of stew was simmering on the stove. he looks up and just points to her meds.

levi: it’s already been disinfected.

oc opens her mouth for what was going to be a long apology when levi interrupts her before she even begins.

levi: i also installed your new ac unit. the broken one’s already at recycling.

oc’s eyes widen and she can feel tears welling up because it’s been weeks of exhaustion and uncomfortable hot nights and she’s been trying to find enough strength to do that and—

levi goes tomato-red when his roomie launches herself at him and wraps her arms around his shoulders tightly. he can hear her voice quivering, tone hovering on about-to-blubber-and-cry, repeatedly thanking him and apologizing for overstepping and he kind of just stands there for a moment. he pats her back awkwardly, wondering how to respond to her and decides to keep quiet and let her break the hug first. she might actually cry if he pushes her away.

oc lets him go gently, a little embarrassed at her outburst but she gives him a small smile and mutters a soft “sorry.”

levi: cut the apologies, brat. i offered. it’d be inhumane to let you sleep in that heat.

oc is about to argue when he fixes her with a glare that makes her sigh. she presses her palms into her cheeks in resignation.

levi: come on, i made dinner. you really need to eat something other than synthetic garbage and peanut butter.

oc sniffles and giggles. levi sets the food down and takes a seat beside her. he freezes when she grasps his hand.

oc: really, levi, thank you

levi shrugs (absolutely melting at her smile). he doles out servings of stew and rice, and they have a quiet dinner.

💉erwin’s own private gym in his penthouse snippet [in which erwin’s not even in this snippet, but he and his gym are catalysts of sorts]

it’s a rare occurrence that oc wakes before noon on her days off. so when she bumbles into the kitchen at 7am, craving for some tea and the little tiramisu her patient from work gave her, she bumps into levi. levi—also fresh out bed and only clad in boxer shorts. plaid dark pink ones that did wonders for his ass.

oc, completely forgetting that she’s in an oversized shirt that goes past her shorts and that her hair is a mess, stops mid-stride. her jaw drops. levi is built. not to any extreme body-builder kind to any extent. but he was fit and holy fuck his back alone was oh wow. yeah, she’s awake. levi turns at the sound of footsteps and has to suppress his smirk because oc’s appraisal was very very distracting, affirming, and ego-boosting. he thinks his roomie doesn’t even realize she is gawking [levi thoughts: she looks way too fucking cute and soft for someone half dead from a toxic shift yesterday and he wants to run his hands through her hair and knead the knots out of her shoulders and feel those legs—].

he truly has to hold in his laughter when oc literally goes “what the fuck” while waving around her hands gesturing to his abs and pecs. oc squints in the midst of her appraisal.

oc: how do you maintain all that in a pandemic??

levi sets down another mug and pours out more tea while explaining that erwin, who lives in the penthouse suite of the complex, has his own home gym. levi, hange, and moblit have exclusive access to it because they’re friends, they live in the same complex, they all work from home plus they clean up and help him maintain it.

levi: it’s a lot safer than public gyms.

oc is still chewing on this information while now blatantly staring at his thighs.

levi: i’m pretty sure erwin will let you use it too if you’re looking for someplace to work out. i can ask him if you want.

he adds some milk to her tea before walking over to oc and handing her a steaming mug of chai. he does this on purpose just to get a reaction out of her because he is absolutely basking in this. she is usually very composed and almost nothing fazes her, and he thinks he’s never seen her flush this deep. oc snaps out of it as she thanks him for the tea. she just nods, her eyes a little glazed over and unfocused.

oc: oh, th—that’s nice. i’ll think about it.

she primly grabs her tiramisu and walks back to her room, leaving levi smirking in their kitchen. she has thoughts that need processing.

oc thoughts: erwin happens to be filthy rich and roomie-free and can afford a penthouse. he dedicated a room in his penthouse to a fully-equipped gym. this is some really good chai. she pretty much stared at her roomie, with his knowledge, very disrespectfully at seven in the morning. her roommate is hot. pretty. cute. sexy. his voice—how has she never noticed? arms? abs? those thighs?? all of the above??? anyway, that v down his hips, his chest—yeah, her vibrator’s batteries die that night, and she’ll have to remember to get new ones after work. this is very for her, very bad indeed.

this was the h-word snippet 🥵 LMAO i had to give oc a little something because this isn’t one-sided after all 😌

SDKJSGHLF;DS ANON YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR MIND YOU’RE A LITTLE GENIUS YOU KNOW THAT!!! INCREDIBLE!!

when levi walks back to her room, oc’s head peeps out of the door.

oc: here, i just need three boxes and i can cashapp you the payment.

levi grunts, taking the prescription and folding it into his pocket.

levi: come with me.

THIS PART!! IS SO LEVI!! I’M OBSESSED!! I’m obsessed with the whole concept of him just... affectionately forcing her to nap in his room because it’s the least he can do to help ease her pain, and show that he cares; but this right here!! The way he had no intentions of going to the pharmacy, but is going to help her out anyway!! Begrudgingly taking the perscription, and immediately changing the subject away from the topic of her paying him back!! So good!! (And why do I get the feeling that he never accepted her cashapp lmaooo). 

oc is about to argue when he fixes her with a glare that makes her sigh. she presses her palms into her cheeks in resignation.

levi: come on, i made dinner. you really need to eat something other than synthetic garbage and peanut butter.

oc sniffles and giggles. levi sets the food down and takes a seat beside her. he freezes when she grasps his hand.

oc: really, levi, thank you

levi shrugs (absolutely melting at her smile).

ALSO HERE!! I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know but the casual insulting her dinners lmaoo only to help her out; it’s the showing affection without outright saying it’s affection that’s so GOOD!! I’M OBSESSED!!

AND THE WHOLE GYM SEQUENCE!! YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! LOVE LEVI BEING JUST A LITTLE COCKY!! GOOD FOR HIM!! HE’S ATTRACTIVE!! HE SHOULD KNOW IT!! PLS but oc being just a little shameless and telling him how good he looks and just staring without feeling guilty LMFAOO GOOD FOR HER TOO!! GOOD FOR THEM!!

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

*spoilers for infinity War/endgame* Because technically Phineas and Ferb Is in the same universe of the MCU, does that mean that before the Avengers undid Thanos snap some of the PnF crew died? Imagine Doof Dying, Perry living but still visit his tower every day bc he misses him. Or Phineas and Ferb Dying, and Candace trying to bust them Just to rember they're gone.

WAIT THAT’S SO SAD O_O

I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if Heinz died. Perry would absolutely keep coming back to the tower even though there’s no scheme to thwart. Sometimes he’d run into Vanessa, who’s mourning just like he is. Her dad may drive her up the wall sometimes, but she still loved him and she would have to have a lot of regrets about how rocky their relationship had been at times. And assuming the squirrel powering Norm up didn’t die, he’d have the whole penthouse to himself for the first time. I don’t know if it’s in Norm’s programming to be genuinely sad, but I have to think that over five years of only finding companionship in Perry and Vanessa’s visits, he’d have to lose the cheerful air he always has. 

In fact, I think a lot of OWCA and LOVEMUFFIN would be fucked up. Only about 25% of nemesis pairs would survive, and 50% of evil scientists and agents would be left without their nemesis. There would have to be a lot of rearranging, and depending on what happens to the OWCA/LOVEMUFFIN member ratio, some agents might be without a job or some might have to double up. Can you imagine Perry taking on two evil scientists every day while he’s mourning the loss of his best friends?

And then when his day at work is done, he’d have two choices: he could go to Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc and not be met with Heinz’s self-assured monologuing, or he could go to the Flynn-Fletchers (it would be difficult to call it “home” now) and constantly be reminded that his boys are gone. I would like to think that both Linda and Lawrence get to stick around, but they’re no substitute for Phineas and Ferb.

Much like Perry’s dream in Phineas and Ferb Get Busted, Candace would be heartbroken. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself if she wasn’t busting the boys. It really is the only thing she’d focused on all summer, and if they just up and disappeared one day, she’d be so lost. I have to imagine that either Stacy or Jeremy would also get snapped away -- the odds that all three would live would be slim to none -- so she’d also be mourning the loss of at least one of the closest friends. Assuming one of them survived, I imagine she’d lean on them for support more than anyone, but they’d be dealing with losses in their own family, too -- they both have at least one parent and a younger sister; I imagine at least one person in their family wouldn’t make it. 

I think Candace would really hold a grudge against Perry at first because he reminds her of them. Perry’s used to her being rude -- and it’s not exactly a one-sided thing -- but never to this extent, and I think he’d take that as a sign that maybe he shouldn’t come home. He doesn’t want to sleep in Phineas and Ferb’s empty beds, anyway. It would make it easy to embrace a second nemesis at OWCA, even if he feels numb the whole time, but he’d still need somewhere to go when he’s not working, and I think he might make himself at home at DEI, at least at night when he needs somewhere to sleep. He’d be careful not to disturb anything because even though he knows Heinz is gone, he can’t stop hoping that maybe one day he’ll come back, and Perry doesn’t want to move anything for when that day comes. Even after five years, whenever he pays DEI a visit, he touches nothing but the coffee maker and the bed. 

I think eventually, though, Candace and Perry would have to be reunited. It’s a small town; they can’t stay away from each other for long. Maybe it’s Perry who takes initiative, going back home for the first time after a month just to see how everyone’s doing. Obviously everyone’s still broken up about it, but it’s been long enough that people have to start moving on and living their lives without their loved ones, no matter how much it hurts. I don’t think Perry would have gone home to see Candace, but I think once he did, he wouldn’t want to leave. And for once, I think Candace wouldn’t want him to leave, either. Yes, Perry reminds her of the boys, but so does everything and everyone else. But having him disappear within days of the boys turning to dust just left another hole in the household, and it helps to have back the only one who misses them like she does.

I think the gang would absolutely fall apart. They had nothing in common before Phineas and Ferb brought them together that summer, and with them gone, there’s no one to unite them anymore. I don’t think it would be a conscious decision, but I think they’d slowly stop spending time together and that eventually it would be almost like that summer never happened. I even think Buford would stop bullying Baljeet, even as a friend, because it just feels wrong now. They wouldn’t know how to cope without Phineas and Ferb, and it would tear everything apart.

I think the Fireside Girls would grow closer, though. I think Isabella would become much more focused on getting her patches because it’s something to take her mind off the pain and she wouldn’t have to think about the fact that she never got to tell Phineas about her crush, and I think the girls who survived would know what she was doing and they would do their best to help her. I think there’d be a lot of heart-to-hearts and a lot of tears, and maybe they’d expand their duties to try to help others who are struggling the same way they are, even if the best they can offer is some sort of distraction. 

And as heartbreaking as it is to think about what would happen when they’re all gone, I can’t even imagine what would happen when they come back. Maybe Perry’s at DEI with 21-year-old Vanessa -- a whole ass adult now -- and Norm, sitting together quietly or reminiscing about the past and bam, Heinz appears in the middle of his lab. I think that might be the first time anyone ever sees Perry cry -- and I mean full-on sobbing; he’s been waiting for this day for five years but he never actually thought it would happen. It would be such a nice, happy reunion, and I can’t even imagine how much it would mean to Heinz to know that Perry stuck around for five whole years waiting for him when he knows that everyone else has abandoned him the first chance they got. 

And then they’ve notice how loud the tower is and how busy the streets are and they’d realize that Heinz isn’t the only one who came back, and Perry would give Heinz a big hug before running out the door to see if Phineas and Ferb came home. Heinz wouldn’t understand at first -- why would Perry wait around for five years just to leave within 10 minutes of Heinz coming back? -- but Perry had spent enough time with Vanessa lately for her to know that he has a family back home. That would just make Heinz feel even better. Perry lost his two boys and he still spent so much time here.

Phineas and Ferb would be so disoriented. One second they’re building a giant disco ball, the next they’re standing in an empty yard with no friends, tools, or disco balls in sight. They’d head inside to ask their parents if they knew where Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet went, and their parents would start crying because the boys are back! After all this time, their boys are finally home! and Phineas and Ferb wouldn’t understand why they’re suddenly being given the biggest bear hugs of all time but they wouldn’t protest. And then Perry would run through the door, almost like he somehow magically knew he’d find them, and he’d stay by their side all day, only leaving (after a day full of snuggles, obviously) to go back and visit Heinz. OWCA and LOVEMUFFIN would have a lot to sort out, so he’d hopefully get at least the next couple days off to spend with his family -- both the Flynn-Fletcher family and the Doofenshmirtz family.

Candace would probably be at school -- she’d be 20, after all, and probably at a college dorm a ways away from home. Maybe shed get a call from her mom, sobbing, telling her that her brothers are back. Or maybe someone in her dorm would start screaming and telling everyone who will listen that her dad is alive and her dad’s been dead for five years and this is the best news she’s ever gotten, and soon the entire school (and probably the entire world) is on their phone calling around to see if their own families and friends are okay. The phone lines wouldn’t even be able to handle all this, and the streets would be a wreck with people trying to get to their loved ones. 

And can you imagine what it would be like for Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet to see them again? They’d be 13-15 years old at this point, and Phineas and Ferb would still be in elementary school. The boys may be mature for their age, but I have to imagine the five-year age difference would create a major rift in their friendship if they tried to go back to where they used to be. If Isabella still had remnants of a crush on Phineas, it would probably stop the moment she remembered that he’s just a little kid, and she’d have to figure out how to cope knowing that her former best friend (and first crush) is back but that they’re at such different standings in life now. Hell, Phineas and Ferb are probably closer to Little Suzy Johnson’s age than to Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet’s. I think it would really mess with Phineas and Ferb to see their friends so much older and more mature, especially because to them, they’d just been kids building crazy things the day before. 

Once again, I think the Fireside Girls would be fine. They probably would have taken in some of the Lil-Sparks-turned-Fireside-Girls like Melissa (not Chase) into their troop to make up for lost members, so the varying ages would be nothing new; they’d just be happy to have their friends back.

tl;dr I think the snap would be heartbreaking and the reunion would be bittersweet and this is the woRST ASK I’VE EVER GOTTEN AND NOW I’M GONNA CRY IN A CORNER FOR A FEW HOURS /j

[marshmallow-phd]

Stolen Stitches

Part of the EXO Mafia Universe

Genre: Mafia!AU

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

A/N: So, technically, this came in after requests were already closed, but you hit me in the sweet spot with the mafia au and then this was the only Kyungoo request sent in. I’ve been really missing him lately so this was kind of what I needed. 

Warning: Mentions of blood, shooting, and medical stitching

**

Tap, tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap-Tap-Tap. Tap.

“I’m in,” Kyungsoo announced from the back seat. His heavily armored laptop balanced on his knees while four little squares cut up his screen, flickering as the cameras were hooked up to an older system. It was still good enough to give him eyes in that room.

“Good,” Junmyeon nodded, fingers on the door handle, ready to exit the vehicle. “Chanyeol, Sehun, Xiumin, and Chen with me. Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, stay here as back up. Let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

“Home to the wife?” Baekhyun teased cheekily. “Worried about her spending too much time alone with Jongin?” His implication more than apparent and Kyungsoo smacked Baekhyun on the back of the head. It hardly discouraged the con-man, making him laugh harder.

As annoying as he was, there was no harm in it. They all cared about Junmyeon’s wife, having grown attached to her when she was locked up in the penthouse for her own safety. But that was too long a story to regurgitate now.

The members Junmyeon had indicated got out of the SUV with him and headed inside the warehouse. As stoic and neutral Kyungsoo tried to keep his expression, in his chest his heart was pounding. These situations were always high stress no matter how many times he went through them.

It was supposed to be a simple negotiation. Here’s the money, here’s the guns, and everyone walks away. But people get greedy. People try to cheat. Junmyeon tried to remain honest; he tried to stick to whatever was agreed upon with no underhanded swaps. He said it made him feel less guilty about still being in this life.

“How’s it going in there?” Baekhyun asked as he played with a deck of cards, feet hanging over the seat in front of him.

“Boring,” Kyungsoo said. As far as he could tell, everything was going alright. His eyes flickered between the four screens, carefully searching for any possible sabotage or betrayal.

Baekhyun blew air out from between his lips. “That’s how it is most days.”

Kyungsoo only smirked. He preferred it this way. Less messy, less complicated. Granted, he was usually the one waiting in the car or the other room, staring at computer monitors while the action happened somewhere else.

One of the men of the opposing gang moved his hand to his back. That couldn’t be good.

“Baekhyun, get ready,” Kyungsoo warned.

Not needing to be told twice, Baekhyun scrambled to the front seat. Sure enough, the other side started pulling out their guns while Junmyeon and the members hurried to find a safe place for cover.

“Now!”

Baekhyun threw the car in drive, the tires squealing as they struggled to find friction at the high speed. The aluminum sheet that covered the garage door broke apart easily as Beakhyun rammed through it. Tossing his laptop to the side, Kyungsoo pulled his pistol out from the holster under his arm and jumped out of the SUV. He planted his back against the vehicle, peeking around the corner and barely dodging a bullet aimed for his head.

From behind wooden crates, the others took their chances one by one moving to behind the car, half crouched down as they ran to join Kyungsoo.

“What did you do?” Kyungsoo asked with a straight face to his leader.

Junmyeon scoffed, “What did I do? I was following the agreement.”

Kyungsoo shook his head, sighing. He just hoped they all came out of this alive.

Leaning around the tail light, he took aim and fired off a few shots, hitting one of the men in the chest. Another one, however, was able to slice a bullet on the surface of Kyungsoo’s arm. He let out a hiss and turned away from the action, careful not to let anyone notice he was injured.

It was only a few minutes more before the conflict was over. All the men of the betraying gang were dead and there were few wounds on their own side. Chanyeol took a bullet to the shoulder and Jongdae had gotten into a fist fight with someone, a nasty gash bleeding over his left eye. Clearly they needed more attention than Kyungsoo did. Sneakily, he pulled his black jacket out from the last row of seats in the SUV and pulled it on, hoping that would be enough to cover it for now.

“At least we get both the guns and the money now,” Sehun joked.

Junmyeon shook his head as he pulled his phone from his chest pocket. He pressed one number and put it to his ear. “Jongin?” he said into the speaker. “She is? Good. Let’s try to keep it that way. This didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. I don’t want to worry her.” He hung up the phone and sighed with relief.

“She’s asleep?” Jongdae guessed. He received a nod in reply. They all climbed into the now bullet-ridden car and drove off.

Most of the lights of the penthouse were off when they arrived. Yixing was waiting in the living room, his supplies already out and ready on the coffee table to take care of his much needed patients. Leaning against the back of the couch with his forearms, Jonging looked up when he saw the rest of them coming in, a finger to his lips to remind them to be quiet.

“Who do I need to stitch up first?” Yixing asked as he stood up.

“Probably Chanyeol,” Junmyeon replied. Sehun helped the giant shuffle over to the couch and sit down so Yixing could do his work.

Jongin playfully nudged their leader’s arm. “Going to go see her?”

“No,” Junmyeon said. “I don’t want to wake her. At least not until you all are gone. If I can, I want to keep up the delusion that this all went smoothly for as long as possible.”

“She’s going to find out anyway,” Kyungsoo mumbled.

“And when she does, she’ll be pissed that you kept it from her,” Baekhyun finished. He was obviously holding back a laugh just imagining that scenario.

Junmyeon nodded. “I’ll take that.”

Seeing his chance, Kyungsoo slowly backed away and out of the living room, quietly as possible heading for the front door.

“Not wanting to wait in line?”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, knowing he’d been caught. Glancing over his shoulder, he still feigned ignorance. “In line for what?”

Jongin pointed at his right hand that hung down on his side. “That doesn’t look too bad. I’m sure Yixing could have that stitched up in no time.”

Kyungsoo cursed internally when he saw the smallest amount of blood dripping down his fingers. “It’s fine,” he insisted. “Yixing has more important things to worry about. I’m just going to go sleep.”

“Uh-huh.” Jongin clicked his tongue, pressing his shoulder up against the wall as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “But… where exactly do you plan on sleeping tonight?”

“None of your business.”

“Did I touch a ner-”

Kyungsoo was out the door and to the elevator before he could be teased some more. The last thing he needed was for the others – especially Baekhyun or Chanyeol – to find out his little secret.

**

It had been a long day. Too long.

It still wasn’t an easy transition, going from sitting in a classroom all day to standing on your feet, putting what you’d learned into practice. You’d only been on the floor for about a month and you were already dead tired to the point that your keys fell out of your hands on your way inside to your apartment – twice.

All you wanted as you closed the door behind you was to sip on a relaxing cup of tea while sitting on your couch in your comfortable clothes. Not that scrubs weren’t comfortable, but there was something nice about stripping away the material that covered you all day at work in favor of the less glamorous, less uniformed shorts and t-shirt.

You were well on your way to this moment of peace. Standing in your kitchen with thick socks on your feet so they didn’t get cold from the tile, you poured the steaming hot water in the mug holding your favorite nighttime tea. It was nice to be alone after twelve hours of being around other human beings. The quiet was-

Knock, knock, knock.

You looked at the direction the noise came from. Who could that be?

Putting the kettle down, you shuffled slowly over to the door and squinted through the peephole. You scoffed to yourself and opened the door.

“Really? You again?”

“Hello to you, too,” Kyungsoo greeted dryly.

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “How bad is it this time?”

He held up a blood-streaked hand. “No worse than the others. Definitely nowhere near the first time.”

The sigh that left your lips was a reluctant one, but your own bleeding heart couldn’t let you shut the door on him. Motioning with your head, you invited him in.

Due to the fact that he had been in your apartment way too many times for your liking, he knew immediately to go to your couch, taking off his coat and using it as a cover so no blood would stain the fabric. If it did, you were an expert at getting it out.

Supplies in hand, you sat down cross-legged next to him. The right sleeve of his button down was torn, edged with dark, dried blood. You took a pair of scissors and cut away the sleeve. “I swear. I help you out one time and suddenly I’m your personal nursemaid.”

“You don’t ask questions,” he said, flinching when you started to clean the wound. At least it wasn’t bleeding still.

“That’s because I like living.”

He frowned deeper than what was typically on his face. “We don’t do that.”

“You might not,” you agreed as you thread the needle. This was definitely going to hurt. Why were you doing this again? “But what about the other guys? If anyone finds out I’m helping the head hacker of Suho’s gang, then I’m sure others would come knocking at my door. And I doubt they’d be asking for a stitch job themselves.”

Kyungsoo put a hand over yours, stopping you before you could pierce his skin. “No one will find out about you.”

There was a sincerity in his eyes, a kindness that you weren’t used to. While he never forced you to take care of him – really, it was the opposite in your first meeting – he wasn’t exactly a five-star patient. Once in a blue moon, though, his wall would flicker out of existence and give you a glance of the human inside. Sometimes you wondered if there was more behind the glances, but you were too scared to find out.

Sighing, he dropped his hand and looked away. A sharp hiss sucked in through his teeth when the needle point pushed through the skin in his arm, but he didn’t pull away. “The worrisome part is how much you know about me.”

“That is no one’s fault but your own,” you chuckled. When he left after your first treatment of him – a knife wound to the bottom left of his torso – you didn’t think you would ever see him again. That he would fade into the night like Batman.

You were wrong, by no one’s surprise but your own. It was the second time you met that you learned who he was. He only had a few cuts and bruise from what looked like a fist fight when he showed up at your doorstep. And that’s when you compromised: he told you the truth and you would help him whenever he needed it. You were certain by now that you’d drawn the short end of the stick.

At first, you saw him maybe once a month, if that. Even after learning that you were only a student at that time, he still showed up, frequency growing. Lately…. Well, this was the second time this week alone.

“Do you do this on purpose?” you asked suddenly.

He looked at you with that blank expression. “Do what?”

You smirked. “Get hurt like this just so I have to patch you up?”

To your astonishment, he returned with a smirk of his own. “Perhaps.”

Heat rushed up to your cheeks as you cleared your throat and gathered up your supplies. You started to stand up, but Kyungsoo caught your arm and gently pulled you back down. He wasted no words, simply placing his hand against your cheek and leaning in for the kiss.

His lips were soft, hesitant. There was no eagerness or insistence of going deeper, further. Only relishing in the moment, the feeling. He was warm. The opposite of his distant personality. Before, you would have argued to the moon and back that you had no such feelings for him and that you would be better off if he never came around again. But now after this… you knew each point would have been a bold faced lie.

When he pulled away, breaking the kiss, you sat there for a moment, eyes still closed. Opening them again, you found him genuinely smiling at you.

“I thought you might push me away,” he said shyly.

“I would have thought so, too,” you agreed. In slow movements, you put your hand over his that still cradled your cheek and removed it from your face, but still clutched his fingers, afraid he might leave.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For the kiss or stitches?”

He laughed just a little. “Both.”

So that’s what was behind the glances. Your question from earlier was answered. Heart pounding in your chest, you agonized over what this meant. You knew there was no turning around. If you pushed him away now, you were sure he’d never show up again. And then all you would be worrying about was whether or not he was okay until you tracked him down. You knew yourself too well to even consider the other option.

“I can’t believe I’m about to ask this, but….” You stopped, biting down on your bottom lip.

“But what?” he teased.

Bravely meeting his eyes, you boldly asked, “Will you stay tonight? The whole night?”

His eyes shined as he nodded and then leaned in for a second kiss.

[angelicmichael]

Imminient Annihilation Sounds so Dope, Chapter Three

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: After realizing your stuck as Micheal for a couple more hours, you decide to do everything in your power to ruin his life

Words: 3.9k+

A/N: Remember, three more chapters of this are already up on AO3 if you would like to keep reading :) reblogs and likes are always appreciated! I feel like this chapter is super long but oh well haha

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

“Girls! It’s time to wake up”!

You mumbled profanities under your breath as you pushed your covers back and sat up in your bed. It took you a second for your brain to start properly working and for you to realize the events that happened yesterday..

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness as you reacquainted yourself with you and Mallorys room. Everything looked exactly the same.. strange. You put your hand under your pillow to see if Micheal had left your phone in its usual spot and you smiled. Atleast he has the decent the leave your phone in the right place.

The room was nearly pitch black execpt for the little bit of sunlight that escaped from the two windows in your room. The little bit of sunlight that escaped from the window allowed you to see that Mallory was just re entering the room, most likely coming from the bathroom.

“(Y/n), you know we can’t sleep in”.

Mallory said softly, staring at you for a couple of seconds before turning around to face her closet.

It was just now starting to register in your brain that, that was actually Cordelia’s voice that you heard ealier. The same voice that had waken you up. And Mallory was in your room, talking to you as well. Did this mean that everyone was actually alive?

“Mallory”?

You said suddenly, your voice disrupting the thick silence.

“(Y/n)”?

She looked at you casually over her shoulder.

“Your Alive”!

You exclaimed and shot right out of your bed like a rocket. You hugged Mallory so hard you two nearly fell over. You were smiling so big that your cheeks hurt and you could hear her laughing. Words could not describe how happy you felt knowing that your best friend was still alive.

“Of course I’m alive! What’s gotten into you”?

She asked and your smile started to fade. You stopped hugging her and made her sit down on her bed next to you, since her bed was in closest proximity to you two.

“I.. Well, there’s not really time to tell you anyway. We should be downstairs with everyone else before Cordelia gets upset”.

You said, hoping with your whole heart that she would buy the excuse. You even started to stand up when Mallory gently put her hand on your arm to stop you.

“Cordelia can wait, can you please just tell me what’s wrong”?

Mallory pleaded. You sighed and then sat down with her.

“Can I ask you something”?

Your voice was shaking. Mallory nodded her head quickly.

“Yeah of course you can”.

Her voice was deeper than it normally was and hushed. One of your favorite things about Mallory was how easy she could pick up on your emotions, it was almost as if she could read your mind, since she seemed to pick up on how nervous you were. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she could since her powers were so advanced.

“Is everyone okay? Um.. is anyone missing? It’s really important that everyone is here”.

You stated. You knew how weird it must sound to ask these questions without any context.

“Yeah, everyone’s here. No one left yesterday, you were here. Don’t you remember”?

“No I don’t”.

You admitted. Staring at the ground in shame.

“Mallory, I switched yesterday”.

You knew that she would know what you meant by ‘switching’. You turned your head back to look at her and her frown quickly turned into a wide smile. Her soft brown eyes grew wide with excitement.

“I’m so excited for you! How was it? You have to tell me everything”!

“I will but not right now. Cordelia’s expecting us downstairs-“

“I’m not letting you leave this room until you tell me every last detail. If Cordelia really wants us she will come get us”.

“Fine you win”.

You rolled your eyes and she giggled. She made it very clear that no matter how many excuses you made, she was not letting you escape without a explanation.

To be honest, you couldn’t put your finger on why exactly you were trying to avoid telling Mallory who your soulmate was. If it came down to it, you would trust her with your whole life. You knew deep down that she wouldn’t judge you or hate you for something that wasn’t in your control. You guess you felt embarrassed and ashamed. You knew all of the trouble this would cause if anyone execpt Mallory found out.. and you wish you could just have a happy ending like most people did after they switched. You were going to get anything but. Your coven was actively at war with Micheal, it was either your coven killed him or he killed you guys. That’s how everything would end. You and Micheal could never end up together. You couldn’t imagine a scenario where you and Micheal could even have a happy ending. You swore Micheal being your soulmate was some kind of a messed up joke.

“You okay”?

Mallory asked you, quickly drawing you from your thoughts.

“Yeah. Just fine. So, what do you wanna know first”?

“Everything”!

She said rather loudly.

“Okay, okay. Well, first of all, it’s a male”.

“Ooo. Okay. What else, tell me you atleast got his name”.

Mallory pleased.

“I did, but.. it’s not good news Mallory”.

Your throat started to grow rather dry. You turned your body to face Mallory more and you gently took her hands into yours. Her eyebrows furrowed and she got a rather confused look on her face when you suddenly blurted out his name.

“Micheal Langdon”.

You said his name clearly and loudly, making yourself jump a little in the process. The bedroom, which previously felt calm, still, and peaceful now felt dark, bleak and even grim. It was as if just saying his full name brought about negative energy. You looked up to meet her gaze.

“What?”

“It’s Micheal Langdon, Mallory”.

Your throat was dry and slightly hoarse when you spoke. You studied her carefully, terrified of what her next move would be.

Her confused expression stayed the same but you noticed by how fast her chest was rising and falling that she was starting to breathe faster.

“So that means-“

“-He was here yesterday, yeah. I was in Los Angeles yesterday. In his penthouse”.

You finished her sentence for her.

“His penthouse? He lives in a penthouse”?

“Yeah he does”!

You two broke into laughter, loud laughter. The past couple of weeks the whole coven was focused on being quiet and staying hidden, but you didn’t care at this point. You really didn’t care about anything, right now you were lost in the moment of gossiping with your best friend. You missed this so much.

“It doesn’t look very temporary though. I think he’s staying there since Ms. Mead died, but after yesterday I’m not so certain that she actually died”.

You finished.

“What? You think he brought her back somehow”?

You opened your mouth to respond but hearing the door open and hit the wall made you lose your train of thought.

“Is there a reason why you two aren’t downstairs with everyone else”?

Cordelia said tightly. It was obvious she was cross by the way she spoke and opened the door. She didn’t look too upset though, her posture was straight and her arms were hung loosely at her side. You were the first to break the silence.

“Actually, yes. There is. You should sit down too Cordelia”.

Her gaze shifted between you and Mallory in a curious manner.

“Is everything okay? What happened”?

Her demeanor switched entirely. Her voice turning from being cold to soft and understanding. She quickly sat down on the other side of you.

You started to feel the nerves creep back in. Atleast with telling Mallory the news, you knew she would be understanding and wouldn’t turn hostile. However, you really had no idea how Cordelia would react. You hoped that she knew where your loyalty lie, that you wouldn’t go run off with Langdon just because he was your soulmate.

“So.. I switched yesterday”.

You started, your voice soft. Cordelia smiled and then sat on the other side of you on you and hugged you. You were the first to pull away from the hug.

“But. That’s not it.”

You hung your head low so that you wouldn’t have to watch her reaction.

You sat there breathing. The words were on the tip of your tongue, itching to be let out but you couldn’t say it. You felt so ashamed to even admit who your soulmate was. Before you knew it or you could even stop yourself, you felt your breaths deepen and your eyes water. You were fucking crying, great. It’s not like you could easily hide this either since you were sniffling and gasping for air.

You felt Mallory’s small hand gently rub your back as you felt Cordelia’s fingers lift your chin up so that she could make eye contact with you.

That made everything worse. Atleast with your head down you could pretend no one else was there execpt you, and you could wallow in self pity and be depressed with yourself about this god awful news. But, exposing this to your supreme? To your coven? What if they thought you were a traitor? What if they kicked you out and left you to fend for yourself as Micheal came and obliterated you into fucking nothing as they all watched from the safety of Robichaux’s.

The more you thought about it, that was probably exactly what they were going to do. Mallory was only being supportive because she was your friend. Even though she was destined to be supreme, she didn’t rule the coven yet, and Cordelia still got to make the major descisions. Kicking you out and letting Micheal end you seemed like what would be best for the coven. After your stunt yesterday, you seemed to put a giant target on your back and you knew Micheal would be back to get revenge at some point.

Cordelia took you into her arms and you wept harder than you were before. You made a mental note to get a glass of water after this, since you were more than certain that you would be dehydrated from all this fucking crying. After about a minuete or so of this, when you finally stopped crying hard enough to stop gasping for air - you spoke.

“I-it was Micheal Langdon”

It came out as a mumble at first.

“What was that”?

Cordelia asked softly. You managed to unglue yourself from her clothes so that you could face her and actually see her face when you admitted who your soulmate was.

“It’s Micheal Langdon. That’s who my soulmate is”.

At first she didn’t seem to have a reaction at all, and then when her expression finally changed, she looked rather confused and almost in disbelief. She stood up from the bed and took a couple steps away from you. Your stomach dropped, this is exactly the reaction you had feared most.

“What? Micheal Langdon? Are you sure it’s him (y/n)”

She speaked fast and her voice was hushed. Mallory still sat beside you, being your silent ally, with her hand still placed on your back.

“Yes I’m sure-“

Before you even fully finished your sentence, Cordelia was already talking.

“HOW are you sure”?

She asked. You couldn’t decide whether she was angry or not at this point. It seemed she was still just trying to gather information.

“I got onto his laptop and I saw his name on a email. And honestly, all the stuff in the room kinda gave it away too”.

“What was in the room?”

“Candles, a upside down cross, and a pentagram”.

You said and by the end of the sentence you were laughing from the sheer ridiculous of it all. You could hear Mallory giggling as well. However, Cordelia was not laughing at all. In fact, she looked mad that you two were laughing.

“I would love to hear you explain what part of this is funny to you. This is no laughing matter”.

Cordelia said in a cross tone but you could tell she was trying not to smile and stay serious.

“Mallory, would you mind going downstairs and supervising the girls for me”?

“Of course”.

Mallory said and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind her as she left. You knew Cordelia most likely did this to talk to you alone. Your guessing she thought that you weren’t taking this situation too serisouly with Mallory here.

“I’m sorry for laughing, I really don’t think it’s funny. I’m just so thankful that everyone’s okay, I mean yesterday I was so certain that when we switched, that he would automatically kill all of you or do something horrible.”.

You admitted and it was as if you saw a weight lift from Cordelia’s shoulders as you explained your point of view and where you stood in this whole situation.

“it doesn’t matter to me that he’s my soulmate, I could never be with someone as despicable as him. Even if he didn’t declare war on our coven”.

You continued, trying to make it crystal clear where exactly your loyalty lie. You guessed that’s why Cordelia was so tense. Maybe she thought you would run off with him.

“As much as you say that it doesn’t matter that Micheal is your soulmate, it does matter. It’s going to hurt you when he dies, espically if we kill him and you have to witness it. Even if you don’t have emotional feelings, it will still affect your soul and your wellbeing. Trust me”.

Cordelia said and you couldn’t help but frown. Well shit.

“So.. what we do? I mean.. I’m happy that Micheal didn’t leave a trace here but I can’t say that I did the same”.

You said and Cordelia started to look confused so you quickly continued.

“After I figured out that I switched with Micheal, I figured that he killed everyone at Robichaux’s so.. I figured.. in order to get revenge I should do as much damage as I could”.

You swallowed and you saw Cordelia’s mouth open. Perhaps it was to start talking or because she was just shocked that you would do this?

“So, by reading his emails I found out that he was holding a cooperative meeting that night so I attented-“

“The cooperative?”

“Yes. It’s the illumanti, believe it or not”.

Cordelia nodded in understanding.

“No, I believe you. Continue”.

“So, I went and I cancelled it. I cancelled everything, I told them that the apocalypse was called off and that I.. well actually Micheal.. resigned. And then, these strange men came up to me after the meeting and were talking about Ms. Meads body”??

“Ms. Meads body? She was burned at the stake..”

“Yeah.. I don’t know. But I called off whatever they were doing with Mead too. And then, I wiped his laptop and phone clean so that he wouldn’t have contact with anyone”.

You said solemnly. As stupid as it sounded, and you would never admit it to Cordelia but you almost felt bad.

Micheal came into your world and didn’t do anything at all. He even left your phone under your pillow where you always left it for heavens sake. And then you literally ruined his whole world as payment. You were sure that as you and Cordelia spoke, he was working on fixing everything and plotting your death but.. still.

You couldn’t help but think that maybe if you had left things alone and just stayed in his hotel yesterday like he said, maybe things could be different.

It was tempting to think like that but you couldn’t. Even if you didn’t tamper with his life, that didn’t change that he was the antichrist. It didn’t change him or who he was.

“Well you did good. I’m proud of you (y/n) but it won’t be enough. Micheal is going to continue his plans so, for starters, we’ll have to call the council and determine a new plan because, this isn’t going to work. We can’t have you be here if he comes, or were going to have to change our plans entirely”.

“Do we have to kill him”?

You kind of blurted it out, you didn’t even think about it before you said it out loud.

“The council will help determine a new solution, but yes (y/n), I think that’s still going to be our plan. Trust me, I would never resort to this first. I tried to offer him help in the past but he refused. I just - I don’t know how many other options there are besides ending his life”.

Cordelia explained and you nodded.

“Yeah. I know”.

“I need to go and tell the girls that there needs to be a council meeting as soon as possible”.

Cordelia said, quickly leaving the room.

The rest of the day following up until 7 pm, which is when the council meeting was held, was rather dull. As normal.

The rest of the girls in Robichaux’s were expected to continue working on their skills but because of the unexpected circumstances you had found yourself in, you were supervising over them and helping when needed.

Cordelia would normally have you practicing with everyone else but she figured that now since Micheal was your soulmate, there was no way that she would have you go up against Micheal directly.

Even though, you were still uncomfortable with not knowing what your future held, you were thankful you wouldn’t have to hurt Micheal. Even though, you defintly still thought he deserved it, you just didn’t want to have to witness or be a direct cause of it.

~

It was 7 pm. Dinner was finished and all of the girls that were not a part of the council had headed back up to their bedrooms for individual recreation time. Normally individual recreation time didn’t exist. After dinner typically included getting back into practicing magic for a couple of hours but Cordelia made this brief schedule shift to make sure that no one would over hear the meeting.

You were sad to watch Mallory leave the living room and head up the stairs to your room, you didn’t want to go through this alone. You trusted Cordelia though, and the rest of your sisters. Since the former council members were murdered, Cordelia herself and fellow Robichaux members were put on the council instead. Mallory lingered on the stairs, sending you a supportive smile as she climbed up the rest of the remaining stairs and went back into the safety that was your shared bedroom.

You sat in a black chair before the council, which were all seated at a table in front of you. Cordelia, Zoe, and Queenie were all members of the council. Madison used to be a member but you heard that it was only for a very brief time. By eavesdropping you had learned that Madison was a member of the council before she died, but after micheal brought her back she vanished. She never returned to the coven so her council role was revoked. You knew that Zoe and Queenie kept in touch with her though.

The living room was kept dark and dim, with the fireplace lit, providing a nice ambience with the occasional crackling log. This helped soothe you and calm your nerves.

“So.. we have come up with a descision (y/n), and we would love to propose it to you”.

Cordelia spoke. You knew that they had talked about the situation before you were invited to sit down with them but the fact that they had already came up with a descision? You didn’t know whether to be impressed or maybe.. a little offended that they had decided so quickly.

“I’d love to hear it”.

You said optimistically. You saw them all exchange nervous looks with eachother. You took a deep breath in. This could not be good. Queenie had a emphathetic look on her face as she took the next turn to talk.

“So.. There’s no easy way to put this but.. Girl.. your gonna have to date Micheal Langdon”.

“What?! Excuse me”?

“(y/n)-“

“Cordelia”!

You exclaimed, hoping that maybe she could provide a explanation or to admit to you that this was all just a joke. There’s no way you would date Micheal in ANY universe. Even if someone paid you to do it you don’t think you would really consider it.

“We wouldn’t ask you to do this unless we thought there was a better option (y/n). And, we don’t need you to really date him. We just need you to pretend you like him so that you can get close to him and make him vulnerable”.

Cordelia said quietly.

“You basically you want me to seduce him?! That’s not any better than fake dating”!

You exclaimed and then Zoe butted into the conversation.

“Cordelia’s right but Queenies bullshitting you. The whole point of this is for you to pretend that you like him, get on his good side. And then when he’s vulnerable - we can ambush him”.

You tried to speak but you stopped yourself before any sound actually came out. This proposal didn’t sound too bad.. you would just have to make sure you didn’t get attached.

“And when the time comes to ambush him, well make sure that your away from Micheal”.

Cordelia added.

“Okay.. I can get onboard with that execpt, I ruined his life. I cancelled his big apocalypse plans, crashed his Cooperative meeting and I wiped both his phone and his laptop. He’s not going to want to have ANY kind of relationship with me. I’m probably his #1 target”.

You said, shaking your head. How would this ever work?

“But (y/n), your forgetting one very important thing. Your soulmates. Even if he swears that he hates you with every fiber of his being, he won’t. Not when you two meet in person. After switching, you two share a very strong bond. He’ll be naturally attracted to you”.

Cordelia said, reassuringly. You let out a shaky breath you weren’t even aware you were holding.

“Okay. But what if your wrong and he kills me? And what if I get attached”?

Cordelia softly smiled and shook her head. She got up from the black chair to walk up to you.

“He won’t. I promise. If we weren’t absolutely certain of this then we wouldn’t have proposed this plan. Please (y/n), you are the best hope this coven has. Mallory isn’t strong enough to take Micheal on and neither am I. And, knowing the kind of person he is and what he’s done should be enough to keep you from getting attached. You know how it will end”.

The last sentence seemed to stick with you because of how ominous it sounded. If this ‘soulmate bond’ that Cordelia speaked of was real, it truly sounded like a double edged sword. It would be the thing that would keep Micheal from hurting you but what if you actually fell in love with him? And then your coven would just end up killing him.

“I’ll do it. For the coven”.

You couldn’t stop thinking how the hell you were going to pull this off? You never were the flirtatious type but you would have to try. Perhaps even die trying. You Just hoped that Mallory was awake so that you didn’t have to sit alone with this information

[hardlyinteresting]

Daisy

CEO!bucky x reader

Trigger warning: mentions of military service, mentions of blood, hospital

Bucky doesn’t know shit about architecture, but when he returned home from peace keeping missions in the Middle East his best-friend Steve was eager to bring him on as a partner at the firm anyway.  While Steve heads the creative side of things, Bucky takes care of the business end, balancing the books and keeping their marketing department focused.   And after less than five years back home, and making more money than he ever expected to, he lets Steve talk him into buying one of the new Stark Tower penthouses. “I was a consultant for the design, Bucky. It’s the best place you could possibly get in the city. If Peggy weren’t so in love with the idea of owning a brownstone, I’d be buying the place myself”. Steve tells him all about the perks of the open floor plan, and private rooftop garden. Bucky runs the numbers for himself. It’s a good investment; he can’t deny that, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the idea of having a whole floor of a building to himself, above the noise of the city. It’s a week after he settles into his new home that there’s a knock on his door. And there she is looking like a ray of sunshine, a bright yellow shirt layered under a pair of overalls. Her hair plaited, under a white baseball cap that matches her scuffed converse. “Hi!” she grins stick out her hand, “I’m Y/N” “Hi. Can I help you? I think you might have the wrong apartment”. “I don’t think so,” she mumbles checking her email on her phone, “nope. Penthouse suit, at 107 Stark Place. I’m here to look after the garden”. “I didn’t hire a gardener. I’m sorry. I think there’s been a mistake”. “I’m here on the behalf of Stark Towers. It’s part of the services provided by your yearly fees”. “So, you come to look after the garden?” he asks brows furrowed. In all honesty, he never had any intention of spending much time out in the garden, so the idea of upkeep had entirely slipped his mind. “So, can I come in?” she asks. “um, yeah, yeah--of course. Sorry,” he apologizes moving aside so she can come in. “You know where you’re going?” “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume its through these giant glass doors that lead to the outside” she teases before slipping out through the sliding door.

He waits until she’s on the otherside of the patio before slouching down on the couch and texting Steve.

You didn’t tell me there was a gardener Steve!! What were you going to do? Garden by yourself? There’s a random girl in my apartment Steve. Not a random girl. She’s the gardener. You’ll be fine. Be nice. The next weekend, she arrives at the same time. A big smile plastered on her face. “Good afternoon Mr. Barnes”. He just nods moving aside to let her in. And the next few weeks go by just the same. By the fourth week he’s able to relax enough to go through some left over paper work in the living room, instead of watching with tensed shoulders as she moves about the garden. By the second month, in mid June, theres a heatwave rocking New York. He swallows his pride and brings her glasses of iced water a lemonades. He insists that she comes inside to the air conditioning to take a break and cool off at least twice during her visits. “what are you working on?” She asks quietly sipping on her water. “it’s nothing really. semi-annual budgets and stuff” “That sounds like a lot” “It’s just numbers” “I’m no good a math,” She smiles, “Though, maybe I should’ve tried harder. stuck to it. I could’ve had a place like this” He holds back a laugh, “My friend Steve got me the job. I’m no mathematician, but I get by. I wouldn’t be here without him” “you guys run Avenger Studios right?--I remember seeing your photos in one of the architectural magazines. You do great work” “Thanks” He does his best to keep his distance. Keeping his eyes focused on his paper work. She’s gorgeous, and kind, and clever from what he can tell. But he hasn’t focused on anything but work since he came home from his deployment. He’s not the flirty self confident man he was when he left.  So, he tries to ignore her, answering with the bear minimum when she asks him things.  It’s nearly two months later and his heart feels like it’s being torn out of his chest every time he goes out of his way to ignore her. And he feels awful when he sees he face fall when he just nods when she asks something. 

He’s buried in paper work for an upcoming project, trying to organize all of the project proposals. Going through to approve the budgets for each department.  He can see her out the corner of his eye her left hand cradled to her chest as she makes her way towards the front door.  “Done already?” he asks looking at her watch.  “Uh, no. I’ll be back later--I cut my hand on a broken pot” “what?” he’s up from the table and walking towards her, “let me see” “it’s fine. I’m just going to go home” she tells him holding back tears as she holds her hand out to show him.  “Doll, you need stitches. I’m taking you to the hospital” “No--you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to bother you!” “You’re not a bother. I’m sorry that I made you feel that way”. 

When they make it to the emergency room she asks him to stay with her. He sits next to her on the edge of the bed.  “Will you hold my other hand when they put the stitches in? I think I’ll need a distraction”.  He nods, “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need”.  “Thanks Bucky. Can I get you a coffee after this? as a thank you?” “Absolutely not. But I’d be very happy if you agreed to get dinner with me--only if you’re feeling up to it.”  She smiles, “I’d like that” 

Wow. this sucked. I’m sorry. I had a vision and it’s just not coming out the way I want. But I hope you liked it. I might do a second part if you want. Let me know. 

[stratus-skye07]

Suga Craze [Eight] | Suga

[Seven] [Masterlist]

The past few days have been boring and just sad. Yoongi has yet to let me leave the house. He told Jin to make sure that I was excused from work. On top of being stuck in my room, I had a babysitter watching my every move. At first, Jungkook kept watch, then J-Hope and so on as they began to take shifts. Going to the bathroom alone wasn’t even allowed. They had to call Yoongi to watch me use the bathroom and if he wasn’t available then I had to hold it in.

“Here’s your food, noona.” Jimin slides the tray of food towards me on the coffee table.

If I weren’t pregnant, I wouldn’t be eating at all but with the baby in mind I think twice about being on a hunger strike.

He lifts up a plastic bag. “I also brought some cookies and stuff if you get any cravings.”

“How’s Suga?” I ask him.

Since locking me away from the outside world, I haven’t seen him around much other than to watch me shower and use the bathroom. Each time he never said a word to me. I was too upset over the current situation that I didn’t bother to talk to him either just to see if he would eventually crack but we’re both too stubborn.

“He’s working really hard to find out what’s going on with EXO. Soon enough he’ll let you off of house arrest.” He reassures me.

I scoff, “House arrest? Don’t you mean suicide watch?”

Jimin looks at his hands, “He doesn’t think you’ll hurt yourself but he doesn’t want to be wrong. He’s even asked for CL’s help and he hasn’t done that in years.”

“Yeah, they seem to understand each other really well.” I say sarcastically.

“It’s not like that, noona. Suga loves you. You were his goal ever since I met him. It may not seem like it but he’s hurting too.”

I sigh, “I could help him if he would just let me. Instead, he locks me away in the tower like Repunzel.”

“What would you do?” He asks.

“I’d go straight to the source myself and confront them. End it once and for all.”

“Do you really think EXO is behind it?”

I shrug my shoulder, “I don’t know how they’re involved but they know something about Hyung-Sik. I intend to find out with or without Suga’s help.”

I stand to leave but Jimin blocks my way out, “Y/N, you can’t leave. You’re carrying my little niece or nephew and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Jimin, don’t make me fight you. You can either step aside or help me.” He looks skeptical but if he truly wants to help me then he should follow my lead. “You helped me once before and I trusted you to take the shot, now I’m asking you to trust me to find out who is behind all this.”

He sighs before nodding, “Okay, I trust you.”

It wasn’t as difficult to sneak out of the penthouse this time around since everyone was out conducting their own investigations to who was plotting against us. Jimin and I drove to EXO’s mansion. I can certainly see why Suho was a runner up in becoming my husband. He’s smart in all aspects of international exports. Hence the extra traveling he’s been doing all round Japan and China.

“Are you sure about this?” Jimin asks before exiting the car.

I nod, “Just follow my lead and everything will go accordingly.”

After going over the plan with Jimin, we approach the gates of EXO’s mansion. It takes but a few seconds for them to open and we’re met with two men at the front door. Two of the same men that came with Suho to my dad’s funeral. They were both fairly tall, wearing black and had numbers etched into their jackets, one looked more alluring and had the number 88 and the other looks serious with the number 94.

“Mrs. Min, please state your business.” Number 88 asks in a kind tone but between the lines it sounded more hostile.

I place my arms on my hips to show some amount of confidence in my presence, “I came to speak with Suho over some private matters. I think he’d be interested to see me about.”

The taller one nods and walks off leaving us with the other. It doesn’t take long for two more members to come out and greet us. “Mrs. Min, my name is Chanyeol and this is Baekhyun.” The tallest member says.

Baekhyun signals for us to enter, “We will take you to see Suho.”

We walk through the grand house past a giant stairway that’s in the center and splits in two different directions. Jimin stayed close behind me keeping his eyes open to the surroundings.

Entering Suho’s office, he was seated at his desk with four of the other members in the room with him. Once I enter, Suho rises to his feet to welcome me into his home.

“Y/N, I have to say that this is a pleasant surprise. Please have a seat.” I take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. Jimin stays standing over my shoulder. Suho had his own men stay in the room with him which is going to be a problem so I have to get them out of here in order for my plan to work. “Sehun tells me that you have something important to talk to me about.”

I nod, “I have business to discuss with you but it’s a bit crowded in here to talk to you about it. You see, I’m a little shy.” I point at the four men staring at me.

He smirks, “To be honest Y/N, I’m not only surprised that you would come to me about business but that you’d come without your husband. Why is that?” He tilts his head in curiosity.

I bite my lip, “I can understand. All I can say is that my business with you has nothing to do with Suga if you’re catching my meaning.”

Suho stares at me intently until a smirk appears on his face, “Leave us to talk.”

“Suho.” The one with the cat-like eyes objects.

The other with the cheshire mouth adds, “Excuse us for objecting but we don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone with these two.”

I quickly interject, “If your members truly feel threatened by us then how about just the two of us talk then. That is if you promise to treat Jimin well.” 

Suho nods, “Of course, you’re both guests in my home. Lay, please treat Jimin with respect while you keep him company.”

“Noona,” Jimin objects.

“Jimin,” I stare at him, “I’ll be fine. Please go and wait for me.” I have a much greater chance of doing this alone but I still have to be careful with how I choose to go about this, for Jimin’s sake as well as my baby’s.

The room clears out until it’s just me and Suho left alone in the big office. I stand from my seat and approach his desk. “The room is all ours. You can speak freely now.” He says.

“I have to say I’m in love with your house. So much more classy than ours. It’s almost like kings live here.” I place my hands on the front of his desk and lean forwards to show a little cleavage that has grown to surprise me as well. 

Suho sits up from his seat, “I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to have a tour of my house. Why don’t you get to the real reason why you’re here.”

“Tell me something, is it true that you wanted to marry me?” I ask.

Suho keeps a straight face, “Yes, I offered to have you as my wife but your father had decided that it wouldn’t be the best idea since I travel a lot. He wanted someone that was going to always be there for you.”

I nod slowly making my way around his desk and take a seat on the edge, “Things have been getting a little rocky between Suga and I. He got mad at me recently and locked me away as punishment. I was so bored. It wasn’t until I started thinking about you and our dance together at the party.” I begin to stroke my fingertips down my chest towards my thighs. Suho’s eyes follow my movement just as I planned.

“Really?” Suho stands from his chair and slowly approaches me, “What about it?”

I take his hand and graze my nails against his palms, “The feeling of your hands on me helped me get through the lonely nights.” I place his hand on my thigh as I open my knees wider to lure him in. “I usually never go against my dad’s judgement but I started thinking maybe he chose the wrong husband for me.”

My seduction was beginning to work as Suho slowly walked into the space between my legs. Once he got close enough I could spot the pistol he had in his waistband. If I could get him just a little closer.

“Believe me when I tell you that I’m not all it’s cracked up to be.” He says through a chuckle.

“Let’s say you’d have a wife. Would you take her with you on your travels?”

He smirks, “If that’s what she wanted, of course I would.”

“Where would you take her?” I lean in to brush my lips against his.

“I’d take her someplace where she can make all the noises from her orgasms and no one would hear it.” He says through a hoarse tone.

“Your wife is gonna be one lucky woman.” Just as swiftly as I got him close to me, I raised the pistol to his jaw. “If you tell me what I want to know, you’ll have a chance in finding her.”

Suho chuckles in disbelief, “I should’ve known it was too good to be true. I have to say you’re the first woman to ever give me blue balls.”

I push the gun deeper into his skin, “You make any sudden movements and I’ll make them red balls just as quick.” I threaten.

“Okay,” he raises his hands. “You have my attention.”

I start asking the questions I want to know, “Hyung-Sik, where is he? How did he survive?”

He looks at me in confusion, “Park Hyung-Sik? Even if he was alive, why would I know where he is?”

“Cut the bullshit! I know that you're behind all this. You killed my dad and you’re trying to take over. You ambushed me and CL the other night. You can’t lie about it. I saw the tattoos that only EXO wears. How did you plan it?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I pull on his collar to shake him, “Quit playing your games! I caught you.”

“I’m being honest. Whatever has been happening to you has nothing to do with me or EXO. I already told you that I have nothing against Bangtan. You say the men that attacked you had the markings of EXO? Which arm did they have it on?”

“What difference does it make?”

He lifts up his left sleeve to show the tattoo, “All of us have it on our left wrists. People often mistake that little fact.” The more I think about it, I realize that it was on the guy’s right arm. That can’t be the only proof he has.

“Let me tell you a little secret. I owed your father my life.” He looks me in the eyes with the most sincerest look. “When EXO arrived on the scene we were treated like shit. No one gave us an ounce of respect to the point where we were hunted for fun along with bounties placed on each of our heads. Three of our own members left when things started to get worse.”

“What does my dad have to do with that?” I ask.

“One night we were surrounded. We were lined up for execution but I offered to give my life in exchange for the rest of the members. They obviously didn’t care to let any of us live so they had me go first. Just when my life was flashing before my eyes, your father came to our aid. He offered to pay them to let us go and when they didn’t, he killed them. Your father took us in and gave us work in order to grow. I meant what I said at his funeral. I have all the respect for him. That’s why I offered to marry you.” Slowly I lowered the pistol away from his face but I still keep it pointed at him.

“Besides,” He adds on, “I’m not the only one you should be interrogating.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shakes his head, “Your best friend, CL, isn’t what she seems.”

“CL? She and Suga have been close for years. Why would she come after me and hurt Suga in the process?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know the details but that day at the party she came to me to talk. She started talking about you to me but in reality she was trying to stir something up between us. She tried to convince me that I was the right choice for a husband.”

“She was instigating you to come after me?” The confusion grew deeper, “Why didn’t you fall for it?”

He nods, “Like I said, I respected your dad’s choice. As much of an honor it would’ve been to marry you, I know that I couldn’t give you the attention you deserve as my wife.”

I begin to take in all this new information he’s giving me but how can I actually believe him?

He smirks, “I can see that you’re still skeptical.” He points at the pistol in my hand, “Would it help if I told you that the gun has been empty this whole time?”

Backing up a few steps, I empty out the gun to find there’s not even a clip inside it. This whole time he knew and he could’ve killed me at any moment but didn’t.

“You’re not the first woman to reach for my gun.” He says jokingly.

I scoff giving his gun back, “Fine, I believe you.”

Suho takes the pistol and places it back into his waistband, “You wanna tell me what’s been going on?”

After clearing the air with Suho, I tell him about all the things that have been happening to me. It feels nice to actually have someone listen to what I’ve been trying to explain to Yoongi. Now that I have the culprit in my sights I have to warn Yoongi about her.

Thinking back on the events, CL was the only one that was with me during the time I was attacked. She saw Hyung-Sik that day but acted like there was no one there to have me believe that I was losing my mind. She continued the charade when we were attacked by, who I thought was EXO, but she once again acted like nothing happened to make everyone turn against me. I was already talking about what I was seeing like a crazy person that she was the only witness to put my information down. Obviously, Yoongi would believe her especially with their history of trust together. I just need to know what she wants from me.

Jimin and I return to the penthouse to find it quiet. Usually if Yoongi has found out that I left while under house arrest he would be turning the city upside down to find me.

“Do you think Suga will believe you?” Jimin asks as we wait in the elevator.

“I don’t but I have to try. CL could be plotting to get rid of both of us by separating us.”

He scoffs, “I would’ve never thought CL would do something like this to Suga. They've been friends for years.”

I nod, “Yeah, well you know that saying. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

Once the elevator doors open, we enter the penthouse door to find Yoongi standing there with his arms crossed. He rushes to approach us but passes me completely and strikes Jimin in the face.

“Yoongi!” I rush to look at Jimin. His lip is bleeding. 

“I trusted you to keep her here and you disobey my order!” He basically roars his anger on Jimin.

I stand between the two, “No, it was my doing. If you wanna blame someone then blame me. Hit me instead. Jimin was only trying to help me.”

“Help you?!” He asks sarcastically.

“Listen to me first, I know who’s been coming after me. I went to talk to Suho and-”

Yoongi’s voice overpowers mine, “Suho! You went to EXO’s mansion? Did you have fun while I was worried to fucking death about you?!”

I wave my hands trying to get my point across before he continues to lecture me, “You’re not listening?! It’s not him that’s been terrorizing me.”

Just as I’m about to tell him everything I spot the members of Bangtan coming from Yoongi’s office along with the woman I’ve been meaning to see.

Storming past Yoongi, I stand face-to-face with CL and my fist also gets to meet her face. Before I could do any more, Namjoon and Jungkook grab me by the arms to pull me away from her. She stands there looking shocked with her hand on her jaw. Jin rushes to her side to take a look at the damage which wasn’t as much as I wanted to cause. She continues the innocent facade.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Namjoon asks.

“It’s her. She’s the one that’s after us.” I try to fight out of their grip but it’s no use.

Jimin jumps in to help but J-Hope intercepts him and holds him back. “Suga, she’s telling the truth. She’s your wife, you have to at least listen to what she has to say.”

“That’s enough! You’re a part of the problem, Jimin. You’ve been egging her on about everything. I’m making sure you two stay away from each other.” Just then J-Hope manages to drag Jimin back into the elevator and separate the only person that knows the truth.

“Yoongi!” I yell at his back, “Yoongi, look at me.” He doesn’t but I can see that he has a pained look on his face seeing me in this state.

CL approaches to pat Yoongi on the back which enrages me, “Suga, I think the issue is only getting worse. My offer still stands to take her to my safe house until she gets a better hold of herself.”

“Yoongi, don’t listen to her. That’s what she wants. To separate us. She’s trying to get rid of me. She’s helping Hyung-Sik get back at us.”

Yoongi finally turns to look at me, “Jin, sedate her.”

My heart drops into my stomach as Jin reaches into his pocket to pull out a needle. He draws closer to me with it. He looks conflicted on it but shakes it away. I start fighting Jungkook and Namjoon’s hold.

I use the hold on my arms to kick the syringe out of Jin’s hands and kick him away. It’s not until I headbutt Jungkook and swipe Namjoon’s feet from under him that I get free. I have the option to run towards the elevator and get out of here but I can’t leave Yoongi alone with CL, knowing that she could hurt him at any moment. I try once more to convince him by running towards him and embracing him. I hold him tight until he reaches to embrace me back.

I whisper in his ear, “Yoongi, please don’t do this. I love you so much and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I can hear him trying so hard to hold his sobs back. I look over his shoulder to see CL standing there with a smug look on her face as if she’s won but I know that Yoongi will choose me over her any day.

“I love you too,” a burst of hope rising in me but that’s quickly extinguished when I feel a pinch on my thigh, “I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

I look at my thigh where a syringe is poking out of my skin. Yoongi pulls the needle out as he keeps his eyes on me. I let a tear fall down my cheek as my eyes begin to fog and my motor skills become like jelly. Yoongi catches me once my legs stop responding and the heavy feeling of sleep begins to overpower me.

The last thing I see is Yoongi’s face and then nothing at all.

[Nine]

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

SuperChat September 15- Animal Curse

Masterlist

Adrien waved with Marinette, a sad smile on his face as they watched Chloe, Sabrina, Nino, Nathaniel, and Marc leaving in Chloe’s SUV. Starting their trip back to New York from Metropolis. He reached out and grabbed Marinette’s hand, squeezing it gently. She squeezed back neither looking away from the retreating SUV. “It’s normal to be scared right?” Ciel, Adrien’s soul animal, a beautiful golden retriever, barked looking up at his mate, panting slightly, tail wagging gently, Aswad, Marinette’s soul animal, a black panther, simply looked up at the two, tail swaying lazily. “Cause I’m scared, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do this without you or them. We went from living together in one city, to spread so far apart it hurts.”

Marinette smiled turning to him pulling her brother into a hug.

“It is normal Adrien, but we aren’t gone. We’ll always be there for you and my home is always open. After all I am home base am I not?” This caused Adrien to laugh as he let go off her stepping back, Marinette smiled stepping back as well towards her new bike. Aswad followed her sitting regally next to her feet. “This isn’t goodbye Adrien, this is, see you next time.” Adrien nodded, tearing up slightly.

“See you next time Mari.” He said softly watching as Marinette got onto her bike and Aswad jumped up as well, situating himself so that he would not fall off. “I love you, and I’ll miss you Mari.” Marinette smiled holding her helmet.

“I love you to Kitty, take care of yourself, and you better call me every night.” Adrien laughed nodding He and Ciel stood watching as Marinette turned on her bike and rode away, returning to her penthouse in Gotham.

“It's just you and me, Ciel.” Adrien said watching her leaving Metropolis, thinking of how they decided on where to go.

“Why don’t you two simply go where your soulmate is?” Nathaniel said from his spot on the couch head in Marc’s lap, their soul animals cuddling on Nath’s stomach. Nathaniel was surprised to find that his soul took the form of a red fox, while Marc loved that his soul was a cute black and white ferret. They had been talking about where Marinette and Adrien would be going for University for a week straight. Marinette sat up pulling Aswad to her chest, much to his disgruntlement however he did not fight it.

“I like that idea.” She said softly thinking about how to go about it before looking down into Aswad’s intelligent green eyes. “Do you live in France?” She questioned softly smiling when he shook his head. After a few hours, Marinette and Adrien had discovered their soulmate’s cities and were applying to Universities.

“Alright let go get ready for our first classes tomorrow!” Adrien said turning back to his apartment building, walking in and towards the elevator with Ciel following. He took the elevator to his floor and stepped out with a bright smile walking down the hall. He noticed his new neighbor right away. “Hello Mrs. Lane-Kent!” He said with a bright smile and the woman and soul turned to him. Lois smiled at the young man she had met a few days ago while he was moving in with the help of his friends.

“Hello Adrien! Oh and you can call me Lois you know! I take it all your friends have left.” She smiled softly at the sad look in his eyes when he nodded. Clarck’s soul, Kryo, walked over to Ciel sitting next to the slightly smaller dog.

“Yes, I’m really going to miss them. We’ve never been this far apart before, and it doesn’t help that Marinette and I are both alone.” Lois nodded her head in understanding, smiling knowingly at the dog soul animals.

“It is always hard at first but you’ll get used to it, and don’t you worry you will always have me if you need help. The help of my husband and boys as well, that's a promise.” Adrien grinned mischievously at her while nodding his head.

“Does that mean when I see a giant spider You’ll send one of the three over?” This caused Lois to burst into laughter with him, finally sparking her family's interest. The three had been listening in with their advanced hearing but it wasn’t until the comment about a sprinter that the my decided to meet their new neighbor.

“Hey mom.” Connor said, opening the door Jon and Clark. “When are you planning on coming in?” He teased softly before meeting Adrien’s eyes, with a smile. “You must be the new neighbor! I’m Connor Kent, the oldest son!” He said holding out his hand, his mate, a small and fluffy Robin resting on his shoulder. Adrien shook his hand, smiling brightly, neither noticing Jon’s mate,a black-footed cat, slipped past and began rubbing against Ciel. Jon peaked around his brother, his eyes widening as he made eye contact with the blonde. Lois watched amused as the two froze together.

“Well, Adrien how would you like to come over for dinner?” She slashed amused as she made Connor move allowing Jon to step forward. Ciel barked, wagging his tail while bouncing around, The cat following him.

“I’d like that.” Adrien said, smiling. “I’m Adrien Dupain-Cheng, nice to meet you soulmate of mine.” Jon grinned back, shaking his hand.

“I’m Jon Kent, nice to meet you my soulmate!” He replied not releasing Adrien’s hand. “What do you say about me showing you around Metropolis before dinner?”

“I’d like that Jon.”

@superchat-september2k20

[1zashreena1]

Angst Fluff Whiplash -14

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary:  What does an apex predator do after confessing undying love? Princess is about to find out.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Non-descriptive sexytimes, the L word, criminal activities glossed over, relationship building, plus size woman+fit man, Anxiety, This one is all feels and

I Am So NOT Sorry. 

THE TIME HAS COME

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​ ​ @symbiont13​ ​ @nicke0115​ ​​ @bunnykjm​ ​ @rosee-sensuelle​ ​ @girlpornparadise​ ​ @mandoplease​ ​ @heresathreebee​ ​ @xxsteph-enrixx​ ​ @jetiikad​ ​ @joalsglasses​ ​ @mutantcookiesecrets​ ​ @demoncatstone​ ​ @squidlywiddly87​ ​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​ ​ @poeedamerons​ ​

"I don't know, Lisa. He won't tell me. Not until this weekend apparently?  We're supposed to go shopping."

"Honestly, I'm scared. I mean, there's the whole how did he get a passport FOR me dilemma. Then the part where he knows I don't like surprises. And he said he was calling my sister!"

"Oh my God, she could tell him anything! Please don't tell him about the Backstreet Boys phase. I'm going to have a panic attack."

"Of course he would tease me about it for eternity!"

"What? Watch what words? What are you talking about?"

"Do not hang up this phone! Do you even love me?!? Lisa? …. Hello?"

You toss your phone down on the bed and heave a huge sigh. Your very own BFF, abandoning you like that. Luckily its your own phone and not the insane cell Diego got you because it bounces off the other side of the bed and smacks into the wall before admitting total defeat to gravity. 

You stand there staring at your open suitcase. Your typical items are in there already. You don't need any toiletries. Or makeup, now. Or bras. Or underwear. Fucking hell, its like I already moved into the penthouse with him. 

… Could I do that? He already basically asked for it. He keeps telling me to quit my job and let him spoil me for real. You wring your hands together while rubbing your lips against each other and being bombarded with intrusive thoughts. Yeah. Until he's done with me and then I have to start all over. At 35. 

But its been almost a year now that you've been seeing Diego. What does that even mean, "seeing" him? You think about how the last few months have been so… easy. He practically lives in New York now, their territory split. He opted to control the East Coast and let his sister deal with the logistical nightmare of receiving the imports. 

He has been a lot looser since then. Faster to laugh, quicker to goof around, less likely to do anything as hard as he used to do. The distance from Alicia has allowed him to really flourish in every aspect. And he's beautiful with it. The laugh lines and the soft brown eyes wreck you every time.

He says he wants to keep you. Take care of you. You finally believe that he loves you. He has made so many improvements in communication. Hell, he read books on how to be with someone on the spectrum. Do you understand it? Hell no. Are you going to take it and run? Fuck yeah dude. I love him and I want to keep him.

And now he wants to take you on a trip. A surprise destination. Out of the country with a mostly legal passport. You don't doubt that you'll be safe with him. Your parents were a little concerned when you told them since they've never even met him. And they saw him on the national news that time he got arrested by the Feds, so that really inspires confidence. 

Your middle sister Lynne and niece Halley accidentally met him that one afternoon about a month back. And they have not shut up about it since. Diego this, Diego that, blah blah blah, paid the restaurant bill in cash, yadda yadda, took us all shopping to a Coach store and then got Halley some crazy new sold out Nikes. Diego had been delighted to be surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls enjoying his spoiling attentions. Just like always, Diego went to the max and charmed them silly.

It was like having an out of body experience to see Diego with them. You couldn't really fault them, he swept you off your feet with no problems.  He was grinning and joking the whole time, making raunchy comments with your sister and encouraging your niece to be assertive (unnecessary according to her soccer coach and the 'Most Aggressive' trophy). He fit right in with them. Afterwards he had asked if that was what it was like to have normal siblings and your heart broke thinking about what his childhood had been like with his sister. 

Which brought you back to the here and now. He had mentioned off hand that he was going to call your sister. Maybe you should text her. She might know something.

Maybe you should just pack your bag and trust him. 

Your Diego Cell chirps and you dive for it on the nightstand. Is he okay? Please don't be hurt.

Its a pic of him. In the shower. With his own hand wrapped around himself. You choke on air and have to sit down. 

I miss you Princess

Holy. Shit. Its been almost a year that you have had unrestricted access to that incredible body and your reaction is still the same. Before you can respond another text arrives:

SOON

The attached pic is just from squinty eyes up.

You burst out laughing at him. You love that he is secretly a nerd about internet stuff. His appearance would never give that away. Time to be ridiculous right back.

Don't make me lick your eyeball 

You are a crazy person laughing to yourself alone in your bedroom.

You are so weird

Yet there you are, lusting after this weirdo

You shoot back.

… Am I the weirdo??

No. Still you.

I would threaten to bite it.. but you would like that

Well now you have to

Oh my God. You're fairly certain you could do anything to this man and he would think it was sexy. Its a novel experience.

Can we eat dinner at home tomorrow? I don't feel like wearing a real bra

You know the answer to that. 

YES. NO MORE BRAS EVER AGAIN. BE FREE

… no panties?🙏🥺

You can see the hopeful puppy dog eyes clearly.

A for effort babe. One of these days you might get your wish lol

...Are you panty free right now?

Wow. He is really trying here.

I'm packing. 

Your pic is a heap of tangled thongs dumped on top of Tiny Murder Panther.

💜🔥😛

He would find that hot. Fucking nympho.

Lemme finish this so I can go straight to the airport tomorrow

Fine. But I am pouting 

You do not doubt that.

Don't care. Still love your stupid face

You cannot believe you just sent that. 

Princess. 

Mi amor.

Diego's good little girl.

You shudder with the praise. You can hear it in his voice, as if he were right here with you.

I love you

Dream of me?

Oh baby, if you only knew. You sigh wistfully.

Always, baby

---------------‐---------

The flight is uneventful, thankfully. Your maxidress with a built-in shelf bra is stupidly comfortable and you actually take a nap. 

The plane has barely come to a stop and you already have on your silly lambswool lined Ugg flip flops. You had argued with Diego about these (Why would flip flops need a warm fuzzy lining??) but he had won by sticking one in your face and ordering you to feel. It didn't take a full second for you to snatch them both from him and cuddle them to your chest. His pleased smile full of dimples was worth all the subsequent teasing.

You slip on one of his previously stolen shirts in a metallic lilac color and roll up the sleeves so you have use of your hands. Bending at the waist, you flip your hair over and fluff it back up from the nap. What was that he had said? Oh yes: Wild and thick, just how I like it. The memory makes you bite your bottom lip and smile.

Bastian is waiting for you on the tarmac. He takes your bag and kisses you on the cheek in greeting. "Hey, sweetie. Nice shirt, is that new?"  His knowing grin is infectious. 

You nuzzle into the collar with a laugh. "Thanks! My boyfriend gave it to me." 

Bastian chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you. "Oh, honey. That is not all he is going to give you." He closes the door while you roll your eyes smirkingly. 

The ride to the penthouse is uneventful. Well, as uneventful as Friday evening rush hour traffic can be in New York. 

Bastian waits until the song is over before lowering the stereo volume. "We're supposed to pick up dinner. Any requests?" He drums his fingers on the steering wheel while you sit at the red light.

You ponder the options. "What kind of a day has he had? Meetings? Tours? Disciplinary action?" You ask Bastian thoughtfully. Sometimes when Diego has a bad day he likes comfort food. Mostly a giant heap of rice and beans next to homemade tortillas, he isn't so picky about the variety of meat.

Bastian glances at you out of the corner of his eye before warily answering, "There was a… termination… at a construction site this afternoon that took longer than expected. That's why he didn't come to get you, he wanted to shower first."

You keep your eyes focused forward to look out of the windshield. "Okay. How about Jalisco's then?" Comfort food it is. 

Bastian nods and adjusts course to obtain those tortillas.

‐--------------------

The instant the elevator doors ding open Diego pops up from the sectional and comes straight at you. Your giant sidestep to let Bastian pass is barely completed before Diego is slipping those big hands under his own pilfered shirt to crush your body to him. Your arms go around his neck like a reflex, like this is their natural resting place. He leans his forehead down onto yours and kisses you so very gently.

"Mmmm. Hi." You murmur softly into his beard. Those bottomless brown eyes look over your entire face before coming back to your own. His smile is huge, those dimples make your pulse trip. He blinks slowly down at you, just like the big cat you nicknamed him after. 

"Princess. How was the trip?" He always asks you this. You still aren't sure if its just culturally specific manners or if he is requesting a review of the flight crew's performance. Either way, your answer is always the same.

You pull him back down so you can cuddle into his neck. "Its better now that I'm here." He rubs his cheek against your own and purrs directly into your ear in response. Your body's reaction is immediate and decisive. You shiver in his arms and your nipples peak to full attention.

Except this time is different. With only a bralette and the dress's shelf bra Diego can clearly feel what just happened in real time. His eyes are comically round as he peers down at your cleavage in pleasant wonder.

"Oh. I like this outfit." His hands rise up your back to crush you further into him. You chuckle and rub your chest on his firm pectoral muscles. He watches hungrily as your compressed decolletage rises higher yet from the added pressure. "New rule to match the bedroom pants bar, no bras in the penthouse. Fucking magnificent, bonita." He licks his lips after making this proclamation.

You throw your head back and laugh joyfully.

‐----------------------

As it always does the weekend passes too quickly. Its already 1:00pm on Saturday when you two finally come down from the bedroom.

Diego is delighted to hear that your time-off request was approved for the trip. You had told him not to worry about it, your boss always kept her word about this stuff. 

That’s when he pulls a ridiculous pith hat out from under the couch. It looks like it came straight out of a Looney Tunes cartoon about a big game hunt on the African savannah.  You lose your entire shit and laugh until you do that silent clapping seal move.

Diego keeps repeating, "Wait, stop laughing. Stooooop." But he isn't faring much better. You finally wipe the tears and calm down enough to take it from his limp fingers while he chortles a few last times.

"Baby. What. What the fuck. What fucking is this??" You plunk the hat on your own head and Diego collapses facedown into your lap to gigglesnort uproariously. "Stop. Stop laughing. Stoppit!" You smack the back of his head lightly until he comes up for air.

He closes his eyes and composes himself. You take the opportunity to plop the hat on his head.

"Oh my god, that is so sexy!" You declare in high dramatics. 

He grabs your hands and leans in very close to explain. "You need this hat for our trip." Your eyes narrow in suspicion. "You will wear it for our safari quest…" he pauses for dramatic effect and your lips twitch in suppressed amusement. He leans closer yet and captures your stare. His face is hilarious, you can tell he is biting his cheek to keep from laughing. His eyebrows are drawn down in concentration but his eyes are widened in mock excitement. He sucks in a deep breath to exclaim, "To locate palm trees in the wild!"

He laughs as he puts the hat back on you.

You blink a few times in shock. Palm trees? You're going somewhere with palm trees? A tropical locale. Palm trees. Beaches. SWIMSUITS. Your sudden panic must show on your face because Diego's laughter dies off.

You blink furiously, but its too little too late. The tears burn as they well up in your eyes and spill down over your cheeks.

He reaches out to cup your face. "Princess?" His tone is an even mix of concern and fear. "Bicki? What?"

You shake your head 'no' and throw yourself into him. Diego catches you and hauls you into his lap. You curl up against his chest and sob quietly. He pets over your hair, open handed strokes so his fingers don't tangle in the curls, and soothes your back while you shake. Rubbing his nose against your temple, he kisses your cheek and whispers, "Do you want to write?" His gentle care only makes you worse. "...so that is no." He looks crestfallen. He buries his face in your hair and breathes heavily.

Your tears are slowing and your chest is finally beginning to loosen. "Dieg-" you hiccup, wrapping both hands around his forearm. You wheeze a few times before trying again. "I. I. Where? Where are we g-going?" 

He sighs deeply before answering. "Nowhere. I won't take you somewhere you don't want to go. I should have known better. I-" He snaps his jaw shut so fast that his teeth click together. 

Tilting your head back, you try to catch his eyes. Diego won't look at you. "H-hey, please." You cup his jaw and pull him down to you. He comes, but the motions are stilted. "Look. Please, baby. Let me s-see you."

When he finally meets your eyes it breaks your heart. That chocolate gaze is disappointed, hurt, frustrated even. You wiggle around until you're straddling his lap. He just holds his hands out of the way, not hindering you but certainly not helping either. Standing up on your knees to lean your forehead against his, you reach for his hands and bring them to your chest where you lace your fingers together. 

"Baby. I want that." Your nose rubs against his as you speak. "I want to go everywhere with you. I never thought I would ever get a chance like this. To travel? To go somewhere tropical? To have someone who loves me enough to do this for me?" You're crying again. And so is Diego? A little?? 

He brings your joined hands up to tap your chin. His face is adorably conflicted when he speaks, "You… want to go?" You nod slowly. His eyebrows lower as he tries to make sense of this. "Then why do you cry? Are they, the uh, is that 'happy tears' ?"

Your hands shake in his. "Yeah. Happy tears. I just. I was overwhelmed. I'm sorry." He huffs out a sigh. You continue, "Its almost like the super intense emotions short circuit my responses and I guess my default is panic crying? I don't know."

Diego huffs at you again. "Please stop that. I'm going to have a heart attack." There is a hint of real annoyance in his voice but his lips curl up at the corners. 

You free your right hand to reach up and brush his wet lashes. Why did something this little bring him to tears? "Baby, is everything okay?"

He leans into your hand, then turns to kiss your fingers. You giggle, you can't help it, his beard both tickles and delights you. He smirks at you, "It is now, Princess. You should get dressed so we can go." 

But you're not done here yet. "Where are we going on the trip? A place name, not foliage that may or may not be present."

His Cheshire cat grin is intriguing and mildly worrisome. He gives you one word, "Xcalak." And then watches while you access your mental map and pinpoint the exact location. 

It takes you a moment but you find it with a gasp. "Costa Maya? Like Caribbean-sea side of Mexico??"  He nods and you immediately start in with 20 Questions. "Are there cenotes? Is the water really those unreal colors? Is the food amazing there? Can we see ruins?"

Diego cups your face to stop you. "Whatever you like, little girl." With a kiss to your nose and a smack to your ass he ushers you upstairs to get dressed. 

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

The shopping is less traumatic than normal for you thanks to Diego making enthusiastic innuendo nonstop and feeding you between stores. You find sandals, and flip flops, and little slip-on sneakers. All kinds of flowy maxidresses and flouncy skirts paired with new tank tops in buttery soft fabrics. Cover-ups and kimonos and huge airy loose knit sweaters get rung up with linen pants and shorts you actually feel comfortable wearing.

But swimsuits? A disaster. Everything that fits your hips is way too big for your ribcage. Tankinis big enough to go around your middle are about a foot too wide around your chest. You try some maternity stuff… amazingly there isn't any chest support. That confuses both of you for almost 20 minutes while you discuss it over croissants and various iced beverages (coffee for him and some kind of hot chocolate slushie for you).

Then you look across the street and inspiration hits. One of the stores you order bras from is right there and has bra-sized swimwear in the display window. Diego turns to see what stole your undivided attention from him and slaps his hand down on the table in celebration. 

You aren't sure which one of you is more excited to get into the store. But while you run around exclaiming at all the things that come in your size Diego stands in the doorway and gawks. When you circle back to check on him he just points to one display wall.

There is lacy, frilly, corseted lingerie. In. Your. Size.

He demands one of everything that fits you and isn't red, brown, or yellow. You don't even argue.

The store does alterations and makes very good recommendations. The sales clerk is impressed with Diego's input, she comments that he really does seem to know your body well. You flush with it, glad that he isn't close enough to hear that. You leave with three bags and seven personalized swim outfits under construction. One is ready to wear and you keep reaching into the bag to touch it in wonder. 

Diego notices but just gives you a raised eyebrow. 

"This is the first time I've ever felt good about how I look in swimwear." You confess quietly. 

Diego wraps a massive arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side while you continue down the sidewalk. 

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

Sunday is a mess as you try to make pancakes and Diego tries to remain physically attached to you like an excessively attractive barnacle. The pancakes are either burnt or still batter in the middle. Leftover carnitas and tortillas to the rescue. Diego teases you about the kitchen failure all day because this is the first time he has witnessed such a thing.

You doze on the couch under the pretense of "reading". Diego rotates through his laptop, cell, and the soccer match on ESPN+. 

Until his phone rings. 

You both tense up. Only one person calls him instead of texting. He takes the phone into the office to answer his sister. You wait on the couch to see which Diego you get back: silly tickle fight Diego,  sad puppy dog eyes Diego that requires cuddles, or  angry Diego that needs to fuck you through the nearest horizontal surface. 

The elevator dings and Julio comes in with a tray of coffees. "Ay, Gordita. Buenas tardes. I got you the hibiscus thing you like." He greets you with a big smile, then looks around when he doesn't see Diego on the sectional with you.

Hopping up to help him carry stuff, you point to the office in indication of Diego's location. Julio makes a face, "Hermana perra?" and you simply nod. Julio takes Diego's iced coffee and bites the bullet for you. The door closes softly behind him.

You munch plantain chips and slurp hibiscus lemonade until they come out.  Diego just looks tired when he comes back to you on the couch, coffee in hand. You open your arms in invitation and he plops next to you with a sigh. Cuddly Diego it is.

He doesn't tell you anything and you don't ask. Everyone watches the match mindlessly. Diego snores softly in your lap while you pet his hair.

He rides to the airport with you but you forbid him from coming onto the plane with you. He is already making this harder than it has to be with his big brown eyes and clingy hands.

"Baby." You breathe into his hair while he snuggles into your neck in the backseat of the SUV. "Its only a week. We do this every week." You pet down his bicep and immediately regret it.

"I know." Diego huffs into your skin. "Why don't you just quit? Let me take care of everything." You go through this almost every week now, too. He nuzzles you, the sensation makes you reconsider his proposal. You pull his head up by a fistful of soft hair and look him in the eye. He blinks guilelessly at you.

"Number one: No. Number two: Stoppit." He laughs at your fond exasperation. "Okay. I'm gonna go. You stay on the ground."

"Fine." He whines. "But I am going to send you a dick pic the moment that plane takes off." He crosses his arms as if daring you to tell him no.

You cup his stupidly attractive face in your hands for a kiss. Okay, several kisses and 27 minutes later, you respond, "Send me one every day. Its my favorite dick." His startled laugh makes you feel very pleased with yourself.

He pulls you into his arms again to kiss you one last time. His beard scratches and you sigh into him. Finally that tongue retreats and he rests his forehead on yours. His voice is low and rough, his hands squeeze tight on your hip and thigh, "I love you, Princess."

Will that ever stop hurting? You close your eyes against the burn of tears but smile with happiness. "I love you, Diego." You pop the door handle before you open your eyes to see him watching you, jaw tense. You stick your tongue out and he breaks into a smirk. With a laugh, you slide out of SUV and walk to the plane, determined not to look back.

When you get up the stairs the pilot greets you, but his gaze shifts behind you. Turning around, you see Diego standing outside the SUV, arms crossed and trying to look so not soft. You smile and mouth Bye baby, he gives you a short little wave. You duck into the plane before you can start crying.

The wheels are not, in fact, off the ground when the phone chirps.

‐-----------------------

The trip is a few weeks out and there is some kind of emergency at the San Diego docks the next weekend. So. You don't get your Murder Panther fix. 

And your coworkers notice. They spend all day Monday strolling past your cubicle, straining their necks to see if you're wearing new shoes or some fresh bling. Finally someone has the nerve to ask how your weekend was. 

You find yourself blinking back tears. I miss him so much. This is ridiculous, he just texted you at like six this morning. But its not just the conversation you miss, now is it? You miss that big body crowding you into the corner of the couch. His soft curls under your hands. That beard on literally any inch of your skin. Draping yourself over shoulders wider than your hips and knowing that not only can he take your weight, he likes it.

He says he wants to keep you and you desperately want to keep him. Why do you fear this? Is it just his profession? The risk? Oh god, how do you even go about introducing him to your parents??? Diego can be all kinds of charming but he can be a real asshole, too.

And they know what he is: A criminal.  For your boomer parents he is the living embodiment of Public Enemy Number One. 

Grand Theft. 

Money Laundering.

Arson.

Murder.

International Cocaine Trafficking. 

HE IS A LITERAL DRUG LORD.

You lay your head down on your desk and try to keep it together. 

Your Diego Cell chirps.

Your laughter bubbles up until it comes out of you without your consent. It turns hysterical and you realize you need to leave the office suite. Now. 

In the bathroom you stare down at the phone as it lights up again with another message.

Miss my Princess💔👑

How? How is someone who can do all those illegal things so nauseatingly sweet to me?

And then it hits you. Illegal. You didn't use the word immoral. Illegal. You think back to how everyone you see working directly for him is well into adulthood. No children. There are a few women but they are not being sold by him, they are there by their own free will. And he has never laid a hand on any of them, they're just as comfortable around him as the men are. No sex trafficking.  You saw someone give their resignation last month. The dude walked away with a suitcase of cash for a decade of trustworthy service. Its a better retirement plan than what I have. 

Have you seen him assault people? Yes. You've seen him stab people. Carve off someone's ear because they weren't listening as assigned and it cost the Jimenez Cartel a shipment. You've seen him push an informant down an empty elevator shaft. Choke a man into unconsciousness with his bare hands when you were disrespected. 

And you still love him. Not a single one of those incidents weighs on your conscience. Your morality is a dingy grey 12 year old men's undershirt that you should just throw away but you're definitely going to cut into rags to keep for cleaning when it comes to Diego. 

The cell lights up again.

Mi amor 💞😍🍑🏝✈⏲👙

You don't know what's worse: His excessive and ridiculous usage of emojis or the fact that you understood. 

Look what came

The attached pic is a few pieces of your new swimwear. They look gorgeous, you can't even tell where the alterations were done.

You have to try on all of them. And show me

Of course he wants his own personal show. You feel desire burning low in your belly. Its been a year and not once has he ever shied away from your stomach rolls or hinted at weight loss. He never questions the food you order. And while the two of you have chuckled about shapewear he has never mocked you for using it. Or seemed disappointed when you opted not to wear it. He tosses you around like its nothing and prefers for you to sleep on top of him. Its not that he loves you despite your weight, he loves it as part of you.

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

Its now Thursday and the desk drawer where you keep your purse at work is vibrating. He knows I'm at work. If he calls right back I'll answer him. You try to keep your Diego Cell out of sight at work or you'll never get anything done. Plus your coworkers are always dying to catch a peek of your infamous sugar daddy/boyfriend.

Yeah. Boyfriend. Keep practicing that. It feels good. 

You finish the insurance call and hang up your headset when the vibrating starts again. Your next door cubicle neighbor pops around the divider to advise you to answer that before he comes down here and abducts you.

What deity should I pray to for that??

You snatch Diego Cell and march out to the hall. Poking the green button, you answer the call.

"Baby. You okay?"

"Princess! I… yeah. I'm not hurt."

He sounds odd. There is definitely something going on here.

"What's up? You need me?"

The silence stretches. 

"Yes. Please?"

Diego sounds very uncomfortable. It causes you physical pain.

"Well, you have me. What is it?"

You can hear him swallow and in your mind you picture him looking away, hiding some soft emotion shining in his eyes.

"Baby?"

"Here. I am here. I just. I just wanted to hear you."

Something is very wrong with my Murder Panther, you think.

"Babe," your voice is soft, you're trying to ease him. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He huffs and you can hear him scrape a hand down over his face. "I know you are at work. And I should not have called. But."

His voice trembles, even over the phone you can hear it. He's afraid.

"Diego. If you need me, then you have me. Tell me, baby." You try to be reassuring but you also really need to know what is wrong.

"I would like to come down there." His declaration is overly formal. You wonder who he is trying to impress. Its certainly not me.

"You… want to come down here instead of me going up there this weekend?"  You're trying to make sense out of any part of this conversation. 

"I…. grrrrrrrrr."  He growls in frustration. Between English being his second language and your sensory processing issues, this is not an uncommon occurrence. He sucks in a deep breath and charges forward in an emotional rush. "I know you're working, but I want to come down there because I miss seeing your face." Before you have a chance to answer he adds, "Pick me up? At the airport, after work? Please, Bicki." His voice cracks at the end and his inhalation is ragged. Your heart implodes. 

"Diego. Baby. Of course. Of course I will. I can be there by six." You have a mental flash of how dirty your bathroom is, all the clothes you have laying around, and the vacuum you haven't touched in over a month. Diego needing me is more important.

"Good. Good. Yes, I. I will text you. When I land." His voice is raspier than ever, low and gravelly. 

"Sure. I'll be there." I'll always be there.

"Okay. You… you should go." You can hear his determination. You can visualize him squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, taking on the Jimenez Cartel persona. 

"Hey." He grunts in acknowledgement. "I love you." You blurt it out before you have a chance to talk yourself round in circles. You can hear voices in the background. 

"And you. You as well." The call ends, but you know.

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

You're sitting in your car at the little regional airport second guessing the coffee you got when the phone chirps. 

Here

Springing out of the car, you wave to the security guard as you trot past. "Hey Jim, I just have to grab someone real quick. That's okay, right?" You wave vaguely back toward your car parked in the fire lane. There are only four security guards who work here and they all know you at this point. 

Jim laughs but waves you on. "Go get 'im, sweetie." Jim must be pushing 90 by now, he doesn't care about traffic laws.

You enter one of the two sets of automatic doors on this entire building and cross through the tiny lobby. There. You can see his dark hair and ridiculous shoulders over a completely unnecessary row of potted plants. He must hear your echoing footsteps because his head whips around in alarm, but his face relaxes into a wide smile. He lengthens his strides to come around the stupid plants, hands automatically reaching out for you.

"Diego." You laugh breathily and fling arms around his neck. He smells so good. 

He crushes you to his chest and buries his face in your neck. "Printhesss." He murmurs into you, slurred because he refuses to remove his mouth from your skin. 

Turning your head to kiss his cheek, you moan shamelessly for him. He surges back upward to capture your lips and kiss you with mild desperation. That devious tongue sweeps over the roof of your mouth before curling up behind your top front teeth. 

Your entire world narrows down to Diego. Chocolate. Tastes like the smoothest Belgian chocolate in existence. He smells perfect, clean but definitively male to you. His silky button-down is smooth under your hands, stretched taut over muscle. Those massive hands gather you closer, molding you to that big, solid body. His beard scratches your face in soft tickles when he alters the angle of the kiss just so.

"Goddamn." A woman's voice exclaiming somewhere behind you catapults you back into the here and now. Which is a dinky little regional airport in rural central Pennsylvania. You know, a very public location in a very prudish area of the country. Fuck.

You pull back and Diego's hands shoot up to the back of your head. Holding you in place, he leans his forehead against yours with a contented sigh. He rumbles softly to you, "Take me home."

You feel so silly seeing Diego in the passenger seat of your Corolla, he just seems so out of place. "You can adjust the seat however, nobody really sits there. I just put it all the way back to make sure you can get in without cracking your head." You sound nervous even to your own ears.

Diego turns to you with a response but his attention is captured by the cup holders in the center console, specifically the Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cup. He points to it, then looks up at you with a slow grin. "Princess. Is this for me?"

You flush but can't stop the embarrassed little smile so you cover it with sass, "Well, it sure as hell ain't for me." You start the car and give Jim a little wave. He winks and gives you two thumbs up. Yeah, I'm aware that you saw that kiss too, old man. Everyone saw that shit.

When Diego reaches for the coffee his fingers brush your hip. The contact burns and you suddenly remember that you have not touched this beautiful man for well over two weeks. Apparently he remembers, too, because he wraps that huge hand around your thigh with rather a lot of force. Right hand slapping down to cover his, your heart rate jumps through the roof. Did I take my blood pressure pill this morning?

"Don't." You choke out.

He rumbles softly next to you, purring with conceited pleasure. "Did my Princess miss Diego?" He asks you with an incredibly pornographic voice. 

"Oh, fuck you." Your answering groan is also obscene. So glad the windows are up.

His hoarse chuckle makes your thighs tremble. "You're Diego's good little girl, you will." He's right and you both know it. You would ride him right here in your own damn car if he demanded it. You have a problem.

He lets you redirect his hand to the coffee with only a little resistance. "Focus." You hiss.

"Me or you?" Diego quips.

"Yes." You declare.

Diego's guffaw is contagious and you don't even try to hold back.

Your apartment always seems like an adequate size until Diego is inside. No, bad Bicki. Do not say it like that. His presence just sort of… lounges about in a vaguely threatening but highly attractive manner. Much like the actual man on your couch. You tried to pick up dinner on the way but he just wanted to 'go home'. You are disgustingly happy that your place feels like home to him.

Diego had flopped on your couch immediately and hasn't moved since. Something is very definitely very wrong. There were bursts of your Murder Panther in the car, but he has been just subdued overall. He had turned your stereo up and smiled faintly, watching you sing along. He had also complained that the stereo in your car sucked (Agreed) and this was unacceptable. You're sure he'll do something ridiculously extravagant to remedy this.

You try to give him the remote, he takes it but doesn't do anything with it. You offer him food, both junk and something home-cooked, all you get is a shrug. You putter around for a while, picking things up and sighing before putting them down somewhere else. His dark eyes watch you, unfathomable. 

Finally you disappear to the bedroom only to return in your pajamas. This he likes, perking up and blinking rapidly. "Okay, I know you brought something softer than those jeans, so get comfy so I can order shitty pizza and cuddle you."

His jaw drops in momentary shock. Then he scoffs, "I do not cu--"

You cut him off, "Yes, you do and yes, you're going to. Up. Now." This has to be hilarious. This short little woman in overly long pants barking orders at the massive man who heads an international drug cartel. Well, its either hilarious or fatal. I'm about to find out.

Diego looks around, as if someone else might secretly be here to witness him be a little bit submissive and moderately soft. He raises his chin in a tiny show of defiance. "Fine. But I am showering first." He glares with this proclamation, daring you to contradict him.

You throw your hands up in the air. Why the fuck would I have a problem with that?? His eyes follow your hands, like a cat when you try to point out a bit of food but all it does is rub your finger. You sigh, resigned to your fate. "Of course that's fine, Diego. You know where everything is, have at it."

You watch his butt as he walks away to the bathroom. 

The pizza actually isn't shitty and Diego eats half of it by himself. When you offer him the cinnamon dessert sticks he shoots you a calculating look. You split the contents, pulling two sticks over to yourself and piling up the rest in front of him. His delighted grin is decidedly not calculated and you lose track of time watching him enjoy dessert.

He's beautiful like this. He wears a soft, silky t-shirt that is tight enough to help you get through the nights you spend alone. His hair is a riot of fluffy curls, free of product and clearly trying to break free of gravity, too. He hasn't shaved for at least a few days and that salt and pepper beard is filling in nicely. His face is unguarded, expression open, those laugh lines and dimples you love make frequent appearances.

After dinner you lay all over each other in some weird we-have-intimacy-issues approximation of cuddling. It works so you don't question it. He has his laptop and you have your tablet and together you have sporadic conversation. Its comfortable. 

Until Diego asks you a seemingly innocuous question that you know is very nefarious:

"What color do you like in cars?"

Your eyes narrow so much that you have trouble seeing. "...Why." Your low tone might be frightening to anyone else.

He looks at you over the laptop screen, brown eyes innocently wide. "Just curious. Your car is green. Do you like any other colors?" He slowly pulls the laptop closer to himself to subtly cover the screen with his bulk. 

"Diego." You slowly put down your tablet and start leaning toward him. He has nowhere to go, propped up in the corner of the chaise end of the sofa. "What. Are. You. Doing." 

"Will you let me take care of you? Just in this one way right now?" He licks his lips, brow furrowed in concentration. Building desperation shows in his eyes and you can't fight that. You don't want to win this.

"Let me see, baby." Your sighed acquiescence has an instantaneous effect. Diego drops the tension from his shoulders and opens an arm to you in invitation. You crawl up him to cuddle into his chest, wedged on your side between all those muscles and the back of the sectional. From here you are stationed directly in front of the laptop screen.

He is looking at cars. 

Armored cars. 

Armored, bulletproof, explosive resistant cars. 

What. The. Fuck.

"Diego, what the fuck is going on?!?" Your apprehensive demand sets him right back on edge. You can feel him go tense underneath you. The laptop gets shoved onto an empty cushion as you throw yourself over him. Tiny hands land on those broad shoulders with extreme force as you use all of your deadweight to trap him. Below you, Diego shakes but you can't tell if its from anger or anxiety because his eyes are scrunched closed tightly. "Tell me why I need a fucking bulletproof car!"

He surges up into your face to match your volume, "She knows! Mi hermana perra knows about you! Alicia found out about us!" You lurch back in shock, but the steel hands on your hips stop you from retreating. His voice is hoarse, louder than you've ever heard him, and its terrifying. Your fear must show because he releases his grip on you like it burns. 

"WHAT?" The ramifications here could truly be lethal. Alicia has already tried to set Diego up to take the fall when they were arrested almost four months ago. You know she has scorned Diego's familiarity with his men in the past, that is why he handpicks them personally. To Alicia, everyone is disposable, even her own brother. Her only loyalty is to herself.

Diego's hands come up in an aborted reach for you. You're still too shocked to move. His face crumbles in agony and he blinks furiously, hands balling into fists. "Everything I have ever wanted she has ensured I never got. She, she manipulates me into destroying everything I touch. I will not let her hurt you! I refuse to allow her to break us, mi amor!!" His volume has steadily escalated until he is yelling. 

He's afraid. He is afraid that he will lose me. The realization emboldens you enough to take his hands in your own, bring them to your chest, and press them close to your heart. You trust that he won't hurt you in his rage. You don't fear him, this dangerous, powerful, ruthless man that you love.

His hands open to slide up your shoulders, curl around your neck, and his thumbs glide over the pulse point under your ears. He brings your face to his own, his expression twisted up with fear and anger and possession and love. 

"You are mine! And I will keep you!"

You realize everything that you have been debating with yourself, all of your pro versus con lists, your stupid little dry erase board covered in sticky notes with your fears, your scribbled timeline of events and possible future predictions, none of it matters. All you care about is the man in your arms. Diego is the most important thing in your life and you can't imagine a life without him. If you had to give up everything to keep him, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

Your hands grip tightly around his wrists and you consciously straighten your spine. Expression hardening, your eyes open to meet his anguished gaze.

 "I want black."

The armored 2020 Camry is delivered that Sunday. You thank him for finding something inconspicuous with an upgraded JBL sound system and he compliments your understated color choice of Black Sand Metallic. By the time you drop him off at the airport that evening you've managed to replace the new car smell with something better and you're thankful that the leather seats just wipe clean. Monday morning in the parking lot at work, however, is a literal ordeal.

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

The next two weeks feel like they’re seven months long. You clock out at noon on Thursday to a chorus of your coworkers making vaguely lewd remarks and howling with laughter about your vacation. 'Two whole weeks on a beach in Mexico with an absolutely loaded hottie' is what they've been repeating gleefully all week. 

You turn around and walk backwards to give them finger guns, "Yes," then you reach down to adjust your pants, "And YES." Their squeals are contagious and you're still laughing when you burst out the front doors to drive home. 

You turn the volume waaaay too high in the car so that your teeth vibrate and it feels like you're having heart palpitations. I love this fucking car and I love that man. 

There is a rental Tahoe parked in the grass next to the huge gravel driveway at your farmhouse, but he left the second assigned parking space next to your Corolla open so you can park The Beast (as you have affectionately named your new ride) appropriately while away. When you get out of the car you glance up instinctively, Diego is standing outside your front door on the small third floor balcony laughing. 

"Are you deaf yet, Princess?" He hollers down in amusement. 

You flip him off with the middle finger that wears the gemstone ring he gave you while yelling back, "WHAAAAT??"

His laughter fades as he disappears inside, leaving the door wide open to let out all the cold air. Were you raised in a barn?? Close the door, the electric bill-- You cut off your own thoughts when you suddenly remember that you haven't been paying that electric bill for the last six months. Nevermind.

Before you can start up the stairs, Sara, your first floor neighbor, appears on the porch with their toddler. "Hey stranger!" Sara waves with a big smile and the kid does the same but with some kind of unidentifiable kitchen utensil in hand. "That is your boyfriend, right? He had a key so I didn't think it was your ex but I wanted to make sure. I mean, from what I just saw it is your boyfriend. Also, holy shit, that's your boyfriend?"

If she says the word 'boyfriend' one more time I'm going to spontaneously combust. 

"Uh yeah, definitely not my ex. Sorry, I forget that you guys haven't really seen him before, I meant to tell you he was coming." You can feel your face burning and it isn't from the August sun. Sara fans her own face with a hand while mouthing 'he's hot' like you're somehow unaware. You forge on before she can start gushing aloud. "We're actually leaving on a trip tonight so I'll be gone for the next two weeks."

Now Sara drops the kid and scrambles over to whisper fiercely to you, "Oh my god, seriously? Where are you going? Wait, this is the same guy you've been going to see in New York, right? How long has it been, like a year? Is he taking you on a trip for your anniversary? I don't even know his name. Oh my god, that is so sweet!"

Okay, down girl. You're not sure who you're trying to will into being chill, Sara or yourself. 

"Um, we're going to Mexico. And yeah, he's the guy in New York. It's just a vacation." You don't even touch the relationship questions with a ten foot pole. You glance up but Diego is still inside, Thank fuck. 

Sara hops a little in excitement. "I'm sooo jealous!" She squeals. "You have to take a ton of pictures! I need to see! Oh my god, I bet you guys are such a cute couple!" You nod and start backing away, trying to wave goodbye so you can climb the stairs and then climb Diego. "Ooh ooh, wait, what's his name?" Sara hisses conspiratorially. "Does he speak Mexican? Is he Mexican!?!"

You suddenly remember why you tried to move away from this area. Repeatedly. "Yeah, he's Mexican and yes, he speaks Spanish." You sigh. Sara nods but continues staring at you expectantly. Fine. "His name is Diego."

Sara makes a stupid face like this is a rom-com movie. I cannot take anymore, you must shut the fuck up. "Okay, okay. I won't hold you up. But seriously, we can have a 'pics and wine' girls' night when you come back!" She waves maniacally before snatching up the kid and skipping back inside. 

I can't think of anything I would like less. Oh hell no.

You climb the stairs in record time before she can come back outside and start talking again.

Bastian, Julio, and a third man you don't know are in your living room. You do not care and your vague wave shows it. You can hear Julio's warm 'Gordita!' greeting as you spin around and march to the bedroom.

Diego is standing at your bed, tucking TMP into your small duffel, when you burst through the doorway and continue at full speed directly into him. He laughs breathlessly but holds steady against your weight. "Princess. Are you ready?"

You take overflowing fistfuls of his shirt, bury your face in his chest, suck in a huge lungful of air, and shriek at full volume.

"Uhhh...that is a yes, si?" He mutters uncertainly above you. 

You rear back to look up at him with a smile so wide it hurts.

"Oh good." His hands come to your shoulders while those beautiful brown eyes sparkle. The dimples and laugh lines come out as he absorbs your infectious excitement. Your hands shoot up to his hair to yank him down so you can crash your mouths together with bruising force.

The effect is immediate. He moans loudly and crushes you against him. You dig nails into his neck and you lick your way into his mouth, his hands snake down to your ass to hold tight. Your left leg comes up as you try to wrap it around his hips. With a pained groan he rips those lips off of yours and pulls back. Undeterred, you move on to assaulting his now bared throat, moaning like porn come to life.

"Princess," he gasps, "You have to sto-- uhhh, yes, bonita. Your fucking tongue." You're too busy licking his adam's apple to pay attention to words right now. "Nooo, mi amor, please, lo siento, stopstopstop." You get in one last nip of his collarbone as he pulls your head back via a handful of ringlets. His pupils are blown wide and he's panting hard. You stare longingly at his delectable mouth while making pitiful whines.

"Please, baby, pleeeease. You're all I've thought about for days. I need you!" You try shameless begging, you're certainly not lying. Petting over his shoulders and down that solidly muscled chest, you shudder and try to pull yourself back to him.

He closes his eyes with a grimace. "Flight! Fuck you on the flight!" He croaks, then yanks your hair harder than you like. The pain clears the fog just enough for you to blink back to awareness. You nod jerkily and step back. "Have to leave now to get there before dark." He explains in a rushed huff. You blink as you remember how time works.

"Right. Yeah, right. Okay. Okay." Straightening to attention you yank off the cardigan you wore for the air conditioning at work, leaving you in a tank top and ready to be productive. Focus on not-dick.

Diego shoves your favorite notepad in your face so you can see your packing list and not him. The distraction works. He has checked off every item in each categorized list but left the strike through action for your completion. You lower the notepad until you can make eye contact with him and intensely whisper, "You know I fuckin' love you, right?"  

He laughs so hard he has to sit down on the bed.

You go through every bag, touching each item and crossing it off your list one at a time. He did it. Everything but you.

"You know I don't need TMP, right?"

"Why?" He squints up at you from where he lounges across your bed. 

Your face heats up and you clear your throat. "Well, its, I'm. I have, uh, you. So I don't need anything else." The realization of how true that is in every sense gives both of you pause.

Diego surges upright to cup your face and bonk your foreheads together just a little too hard. You giggle and he huffs. 

"Mi amor…" he sighs for you, eyes closing in pleasure. You 'mmmmm' in response. Then his eyes snap open and he growls an order, "Get changed so we can go!" And punctuates it with a stinging slap to your ass.

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

You spend the flight with your face pressed to the window, vibrating in excitement, except for a brief intermission of seven orgasms in the bathroom.

The unknown third man is Joey, Bastian's boyfriend. Joey is even quieter than Bastian and just as cute. They're not overly demonstrative but clearly comfortable moving around each other. Joey works in "Packaging" and does an admirable job of ignoring his cartel drug lord boss being snuggly. Julio naps. 

The customs agent at the Cancun airport looks you up and down with wide eyes but stamps your passport with no questions. Its a five hour drive to Xcalak but Diego is adamant it can be done in three. You give him an eyebrow question which he dismisses with a vague wave, "They paved the road all the way to the southern border last year."

Uhh, they what now? You understand soon enough. The drive drastically changes outside of Cancun. The scenery is both beautiful and heartbreaking. There are occasional mansions with armed guards, high fences, and SUVs like your own current ride. Mostly though, its shacks and people on foot or riding bicycles, weaving to avoid stray dogs and huge iguanas. Could I handle this as my daily reality?

The first time the road sidles right up to the ocean you have a small meltdown.

 "Is that what I think it is?" Your soft whisper is accompanied by a shaking hand pointing to the left. Diego, crammed into the middle of the backseat between yourself and Julio so you could have an unobstructed view, indicates an order for Bastian to pull over. He reaches across you and pops open your door. You slide out with his hand on your lower back and take about a dozen steps to the lapping water. Diego appears to your right, watching you intently.

 "Its gre-e-e-en!" Your stuttering squeal is accompanied by happy tears and you fling yourself into Diego with joy. He laughs at you, but hugs you back just as tightly.

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

The first week passes in a blur of amazing food, warm green sea, fruity drinks, and shirtless wet Diego. And so many orgasms that you can't keep count. Diego is all over you non-stop, more than he ever has been before (Astonishingly). Its incredible and you feel like the only person in the world. If he's not molesting you then he is at least touching you; keeping you in his lap, holding your hand, cuddling and petting and snuggling like a man obsessed. 

You love it. You love him. You love this life.

On Saturday he lets you lead him through the tiny town, your Spanish improving by leaps and bounds as you try to navigate the streets and alleys and shops. The four years of high school Spanish actually prove useful as you manage to complete a purchase all by yourself. Your playful mock smugness evaporates under the blazing desire in his eyes. 

He drags you back to the casita in a much shorter and more direct route than you took upon earlier departure. You're marched directly to the bed and he puts one massive hand in the middle of your chest to gently push you down onto your back. There is something different about this, something important in his eyes. Your voice is high and soft, "Diego?"

He climbs up between your legs and leans down to kiss you senseless. It goes on forever; soft lips, scratchy beard, silky tongue, and nothing but the taste of Diego. Your moans and sighs are mixed together, there are moments when you can't tell who is making what noise. His hands are shaking as he strokes every inch of newly bared and sunburnt sensitive skin while undressing you. 

It takes repeated attempts, but you finally get him naked, too. The sight never fails to take your breath away. All that soft, and now freshly tanned, skin is like velvet to your touch. You're mesmerized by his muscles flexing and then evening out as he moves above you. He finally gets your linen pants untangled off your left foot and flings them across the room with unnecessary force. Your soft peals of laughter light up his face and it brings tears to your eyes. You reach a hand out to him, "Diego. Baby."

He comes up over you, threading fingers into your hair, kissing you slowly and thoroughly. You can feel him against you, fire hot and mouth wateringly hard, but he makes no move to take you. Your eyes open in hazy confusion as the kiss ends. Diego is watching your face, blinking back tears. 

He is holding your head still, hands like steel. Whatever this is, he needs it. And you want to give him everything he needs. Forever.

You're captured by his eyes, bottomless, soulful, and hungry. His raspy voice is soft and trembling with desire. "I love you, Bicki. I want everything. Forever, Princess?" 

Your chest compresses and your heart implodes. Scalding tears escape when you blink and you're nodding before you even know it. "Yes, Diego. Yes, baby, I'm yours." 

Your back arches off the bed as he comes home and brings you with him.

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

You wake up crushed under Diego. The sun is still up so you might be able to talk him into going out for dinner. You rub your cheek on the huge bicep doubling as your pillow and Diego sighs directly into your ear from where he is spooned up behind you. Oh yeah, we should have done this waaaay sooner.

He nuzzles your neck just to incite squirmy giggles and you don't even fight it. "I have something for you, Princess. Stay here." He pulls away and you whine about the loss of your pillow. His low chuckle burns you alive with want. "Stay like that. Do not move." You obey while you listen to him rummage around behind you.

He comes around to your side of the bed, still completely and unabashedly nude. Hell. Fucking. Yes. You love it. He hands your glasses over and you slide them on to take in the now high definition view of naked Murder Panther. The view disappears as he kneels down next to the bed so you're on eye level. His expression is very peculiar. 

His hands slowly come up to reveal a small box of black velvet. Time slows to a halt as he opens the box and presents it to you. 

Inside is a ring. Gleaming in platinum and sparkling with three tastefully large princess cut diamonds. 

Its an engagement ring.

Diego is proposing. 

He swallows hard and rumbles gruffly, "Now remember, you already said y--"

You cut him off with a shriek. "YES! YESYESYES!!"

In the time it takes him to blink twice with surprise you're on him. Arms around his neck, you throw yourself into his lap. He topples backwards and you ride him to the floor, already bawling hysterically. 

He stares up at you in shock as you nod furiously and cry all over him. "Princess. You… you are certain?" If this were any other time you would be howling with laughter at his huge eyes and lax jaw. 

Your answer is stuttery but determined. "Y-y-yeah. Put it-t-t-t on me already!" 

He laughs in delight at your order and the imperious presentation of your shaking left hand. The ring glides on easily, a perfect fit. It gleams up at you blindingly. After a moment of admiration you lace your fingers with his and sigh at the union. His other hand comes up to roughly brush away your tears. "I know you do not like labels so much… but, you will be my, my married... Person. Thing?" 

You stroke his bearded cheek in return, thumb lingering on that dimple. With a hard gulp you dive in head first. Fuck it.

"Yes, Diego. I will be your wife."

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

The next time you wake it is dark out. You reach for a phone on the nightstand to your left and jump when you find one with a loud crack. Diego pops upright behind you, instantly on high alert. "Princess?" He hisses while covering your body with his own.

You gigglesnort, then meekly answer him, "I forgot about the ring and whacked a phone. Everything's okay, baby."

He sighs so deeply that his breath ruffles your hair. "Jesus fucking christ, woman. You are a menace."  He flops down on top of you and snuggles back into your warmth. 

You reach back with your left hand and grope blindly for his face. He licks your fingers as soon as they're in reach and you stuff them into his mouth as retaliation. He just sucks languidly. 

"Mmmmmm, I'm your menace, baby. And I have to pee." He nips your fingers but rolls over to free you. You slide out of the bed and stretch your arms high while arching your back. Diego groans painfully. "What?"

Diego rises to all fours on the bed while the sheet slithers off of him. "You forget that other people can see without glasses, huh?" You cock your head and realize that you have a shadow.

It's a full moon. And I just stretched naked in front of a sliding glass door. "Oh. Huh. I guess I do forget. Oops. I'll be sure to keep that in mind now." Your seemingly tame answer is directly contradicted by the exaggerated roll of your hips that makes your butt bounce when you walk off. 

"Fucking menace, woman." Diego growls as you push the bathroom door shut with a trill of laughter.

You never do go back to bed but you do wind up on the beach in front of the casita to watch the sunrise. Julio finds you both snuggled together late the next morning, still asleep on the covered daybed under the palms while the rising tide comes ever closer. At least Julio has the decency to cover your bare ass with a beach towel.

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

By the time you think to check your phone gallery you have… 1,792 pictures. WHAT THE FUCK. 

You scroll through the pics, there are a lot you do not remember taking. Was I that drunk or did Diego take some of these? One is a close up of your ass from below wearing a string bikini, I knew I wasn't that drunk. The next pic is Diego asleep on a lounge chair, one arm curled up above his head, muscles glistening in the sun, and swim trunks so low on his hips that it's almost obscene. Immediately following that is the same pic but with your own face photobombing about three inches away from the camera and giving a thumbs up with your left hand so your engagement ring is prominently visible. Oh yeah, I remember that one. 

There are videos, too. The first one is Diego making lewd comments while you twerk in the ocean for about ten seconds. Okay, that's par for the course with us. Next is you successfully backflipping off of Diego's shoulders into the green water to everyone freaking out. Shit, even I'm impressed with myself. After that is video of you gagging through a dish of octopus at some restaurant. Both of you are clearly visible in the shot so Julio must have had the phone. Betrayal. 

There are tens of dozens of the two of you in various poses and outfits, both disgustingly happy and blatantly in love. There's even a role reversal shot of Diego sprawled across your lap, one enormous arm wrapped around your neck and his knees over your own arm while you grimace and he laughs hysterically. The table to your right is covered in empty bottles and mostly finished drinks. An entire subsection depicts you asleep like you have a stalker. You count no less than 29 of you two trying on increasingly ridiculous hats in random stores.

You can't even keep count of all the close ups of a smoldering Murder Panther. You feel no guilt.  Aren't you supposed to be ridiculously attracted to your fiancé??

Fiancé.

You have a fiancé. Your fiancé is Diego. You are engaged to Diego Rafael Jimenez. 

I have to explain this ring to everyone. They'll have questions about him. People will want pictures. How do I explain what he does?? Oh my god, there's no closet here. I have to… find somewhere. And I can't I can't. Its-

Your head jerks upright when something touches your hair. Its Diego. Kneeling on the floor in front of you, he has unfurled a sheet over you to block out everything, and he waits there, watching you. Before you realize it your hands are reaching for his shoulders, just the feel of him, warm and solid under your hands, calms you. 

Slowly, his right hand comes up to cover your left. "No closet, Princess." His huge fingers grip yours tightly. You nod a little. He just watches you, eyes guarded. 

"Ask. Go ahead." You mutter. You can tell from his posture that he is uneasy, apprehensive. 

He locks eyes with you and his gaze is intense. He curls all of his fingers around your left ring finger. "Still yes?" 

The fear in his eyes breaks your heart. Your voice is shaky but determined, "No. You can't get rid of me. I'm your problem now, baby."  His expression would make a meeker woman cower in fear, you laugh weakly. 

He settles down on the tile floor in front of you, with the sheet over both of you. Its like four in the afternoon and I am sharing a blanket fort with my cartel boss fiancé while on vacation in Mexico. What even is my life? His elbows are on his knees, chin in hand. He studies you for a minute, you stare right back. He raises one eyebrow and you sigh in capitulation. 

"I don't know how to just be happy. I suck at it."  You shrug but reach for his face. Diego nuzzles into your hand while you stroke your thumb over his beard. 

"Habby isz nawt a berb." He slurs into your palm with a soft kiss.

The epiphany is like a cinder block to the brain. 

He's right. I don't have to 'do' anything. I'm happy right now. I've been happy every time I'm with him. And no one had to exert any effort.

People can define themselves. People can define their relationships. Why can't they define their own normal? I can make my own rules. Especially with someone like Diego as my partner.

His one eyebrow slowly rises as he watches your thoughts play out across your face. "You back?" He asks with a hidden smirk, you know its there from the way his eyes crinkle with laugh lines.

"Yup!" Is your decisive answer. Diego licks your palm. "I got better places you can lick, baby." You answer his smirk with a waggling eyebrow. 

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of play wrestling and inappropriate noises.

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

You do, in fact, go on a safari. Of sorts. Tours of ruins and jungle and cenotes, lots of side quests because the both of you are easily distracted by pretty colors. You probably added another thousand pictures of various palm trees to your gallery. The hat makes multiple appearances. 

Diego has to ship a crate home to New York because he bought you too many souvenirs. You laugh and tease him when he wants to pick out things for your middle sister and niece, until you hear his logic. 

"They were nice to me." He murmurs with a little half-shrug, "It was like being in a real family for a little bit." He studies the bins of painted shells on display in the little store with way too much focus.

You spend a moment deliberating before you decide to reach out and touch his elbow.

 "Hey," your soft voice brings his gaze your way momentarily before he goes back to ceramic turtle magnets. You take his hand with your own right and rest your left hand on his chest. Diego looks down where your ring glints in the light, then up to your face. "You know you're going to be part of that 'real' family, right?"

Diego's boyish little smile is heartbreakingly adorable. 

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

The flight home is much shorter than you want it to be and you spend most of it asleep on Diego. At one point you wake up to see Bastian and Joey cuddled up together napping. When you look up from where your head is resting in Diego's lap he is already looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You whisper softly. You stifle a yawn and blink repeatedly. 

Diego strokes one big hand over your hair and grips your jaw firmly. With a huge toothy grin he answers, "Mine." 

"Uh huh. How many times you need me to say yes, baby?" You smirk up at him with an arched brow. He seems to be reveling in hearing you readily admit your commitment to him.

He considers your question carefully while his other hand trails down the front of your body under a blanket. I don't remember having a blanket earlier. Finally, Diego settles on "Every day. At least seven times. Seven is a good number, right Princess?" 

Your body jerks as his fingers press between your thighs with steady determination. Your eyes flick over to Bastian and Joey, still out cold. You make a show of wiggling around to get comfortable, and, surprisingly, that involves spreading your legs. "Yessss." You hiss up at him.

Julio reclines his seat and exaggeratedly covers his face with a new hat. 

Seven is a very good number.

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

Your first day back to work is a circus. You don't think twice about your normal greeting as you enter the office suite. You swipe your badge with your right hand and pop the door, then wave 'hi' to everyone. Like usual. With your left hand. 

There is an excessive amount of squealing that makes you second guess going into a female dominated field. The whole day is a wash because you have a steady stream of people passing through your cubicle. You're glad you had the forethought to curate a photo album of appropriate images to show your coworkers despite Diego's repeated attempts to sneak a dick pic in there somewhere. You most definitely included the glistening swim trunks lounge chair picture. Squealing intensifies.

Everyone comments on the hat and you're forced to tell the story of the hat. How you once told Diego that you wanted to see palm trees, 'But like, in the wild.' And Diego had laughed so hard that he fell off the bed only to pop back up wheezing about a 'Palm Tree Safari' until you smacked him in the face with a pillow. Your coworkers think it is just disgustingly adorable that he never let you live that down. 

Your coworkers have questions:

When is the wedding? 

Where are you having it?

What kind of dress do you want?

What are your colors?

Are you going to do flowers?

What about the cake?

Who is your maid of honor?

How did your family take the news?

What about his family?

Are you going to New York?

Will you take his name?

Oh shit. I forgot about the whole 'wedding' part of this.

[chelsfic]

Part Two - Wish You Weren’t Here - Diego Jiménez x Reader - Starz Power fanfic

Part One

A/N: I think this spun out of my control when the angst train left the station. Oh well???

Warnings: Same as before with the smut, exhibitionism, forced audience to exhibitionism. Only this time we’ve got some angst!! and also the reader has a panic attack due to her phobia of heights. Oh yeah and there’s a mention of murder?

***

When you step off the elevator the first thing you’re aware of is the noise coming from the living room. Whining, mewling female cries underlaid with Diego’s strained, masculine grunts and the obscene, wet sound of his dick slamming into his latest conquest. You take a little breath and square your shoulders. This is your new normal and you’re determined to face it. And the little stab of jealousy that cuts you from inside is barely even there anyway.

The penthouse’s open floor plan means you have an immediate line of sight on the activities as soon as you step out of the elevator alcove. Diego’s back is toward you, his muscles taught with effort as he buries himself inside the woman from behind. She’s pressed up against the window wall, her skin making loud squeaks against the glass each time he thrusts roughly into her. Damnit, Diego. Are you going to have to clean those windows every single day?

Diego hears the elevator chime as you arrive and he’s craning his neck to watch you over his shoulder, his teeth bared in a lustful grimace. You avoid his eyes and move into the kitchen, determined to start your work day as if your boss isn’t putting on an exhibitionist show in the next room. But Diego won’t let you get away that easy.

He calls your name in a voice that’s broken with lust and you close your eyes for a second, trying to master your body’s reaction to this man. Diego isn’t having it, “Come here, little girl! Now!”

The last word is an order barked out in the forceful tone he reserves for subordinates and you have no other option but to obey. Still, you drag your feet, making your way slowly toward the writhing couple and keeping your gaze fixed on the floor. 

Diego groans and whines at you, “Get your ass over here.”

“Diego,” you sigh, finally stopping a couple feet away and still determinedly averting your gaze. Your voice shakes, “You know I don’t like being so close to the windows…”

Yeah. Sure. That’s the problem here. But you’re not lying. In addition to the jealousy, arousal, embarrassment, and confusion, you also feel that telltale shaky panic you always get when you’re too close to a high ledge. 

Diego doesn’t stop frantically thrusting his hips as he responds, “I’ll keep you safe. Come here.”

He removes a hand from the woman’s ass and reaches out to you. God, you can not be swooning over this man telling you he’ll keep you safe while he’s fucking another woman. Right? RIGHT?

You slide cautiously forward and Diego hooks his arm around you, hugging you to his side even as he continues burying himself in this woman who still moans and writhes with abandon. He doesn’t try to cop a feel, he’s just holding you against his naked body. Your cheek presses against his muscled chest and you feel the instinctual urge to wrap your arms around him but you hold back. You need to stay detached. Your nascent attraction to your boss is already a problem without being drawn into his sex life as some...pitiful observer. With nothing to look at except the woman’s back and the perilous view from the windows you simply turn and bury your face into the crook of Diego’s arm. He threads his fingers through your hair gently even as his other hand digs bruisingly into the woman’s hip as he slams into her, grunting with his release. 

Once it’s over he pulls away from both of you with a disorienting alacrity. You’re standing there stupidly, not sure what to do with yourself (and aching with discomfort at the moisture between your legs). The girl tries to pull Diego into a kiss but he presses a stack of bills into her hands and pushes her towards the elevator. She’s still nude, holding the money and her dress in her hands as she walks out. 

Diego pulls on a pair of tight jeans and collapses onto the couch, grabbing the remote control and flicking on the giant television inlaid into the wall opposite the couch, looking casual as ever. 

You take a deep breath, hand to your chest, trying to get a hold of yourself. You glance around and notice the obscene streaks on the window where the woman’s body had pressed against the glass. You let out a sigh and go to fetch the glass cleaner. 

Diego snakes out a hand and grabs the bottom of your t-shirt as you pass by the couch. 

He keeps his eyes fixed on the TV as he speaks, “Sit with me for a little while.”

For a second you’re at a loss for words as your brain tries to keep up with Diego’s rapid mood changes. Lust...dismissal...neediness. You’re also working through your own tumult of emotions. You’re still--ahem--worked up about what just happened. And confused about feeling jealous. And humiliated at being the third wheel to this man to whom you’re growing increasingly more attached despite your best efforts. 

“I was going to clean the window? It’s all...smudged. Again. Maybe--maybe you could do that someplace else next time?” You can’t look at him. In fact you’d really like to hide in a little nook for a while or possibly the rest of eternity.

He just pats the seat next to him and dismisses your concern, “It can wait.”

You let out a shaky sigh and settle stiffly beside him on the couch. Diego is lying stretched out on the cushions and as soon as you sit he scoots up to rest his head in your lap, giving a little contented sigh as he flips through the channels. Your face is stricken with indecision, your hands hovering in the air over him. What is he doing? And why? And...oh god the wetness between your legs is a damning sign of your lingering arousal--can he? You might die.

You finally rest your hand on his bare shoulder, fingers tentatively rubbing gentle circles into his skin. Diego purrs in satisfaction and nuzzles his face against your thigh. Yeah, you’re dead now. But he just lays there, head in your lap, one hand wrapped around your knee, and watches a soccer match on TV. Questions swirl through your mind and you start talking before your brain has a chance to do anything about it.

“Diego, why do you--I mean...,” you flounder and grasp for words to voice questions you’re afraid to ask. Why did you do that? Why did you pick me? Why do you...like me? What do you want? But--even after being forced to watch him in his most unguarded, intimate moments--you can’t bring yourself to voice these questions that are too personal to be asking your boss.

It doesn’t matter because--yet again--Diego reads your mind. His voice holds a tone of amused condescension as he speaks, “You seem so...innocent. And good. It’s funny! I like to watch you get all embarrassed and flustered.”

You narrow your eyes at the back of his head, annoyed to have your fears confirmed: that he’s just been toying with you for his own amusement. But when you remove your hand from his shoulder to card your fingers through his hair and he gives another contented purr you start to question if he’s being straight forward with you. He clings to you like someone starved for affection--which--that can’t be true considering what you’ve just witnessed, right? But this is different, isn’t it? Diego is soft and comfortable. He’s not putting on a show. He’s seeking comfort from someone...what? Different? Someone who doesn’t know shit about his business. Someone who’s afraid of getting high off cocaine by accidentally breathing it in? Someone he calls...innocent? And good?

The elevator doors ping and all at once Diego stiffens in your lap, sitting up and roughly pushing your hand away. It’s beyond stupid that you feel hurt at his sudden withdrawal. But you do. His whole demeanor changes before your eyes, face closing off, guards coming up. One of his guys strides forward and you see him eyeing you sitting on the couch with little invisible question marks in the air around his head. Diego does too.

“Get back to work,” he orders, voice cold and hard once more. You nod and get up, scurrying away to get started on your chores and determinedly suppressing the hurt feelings that he’d only see as another sign of your weakness.

***

Diego’s been enjoying toying with you for a few weeks before he starts to question if he’s let you get too close. It’s the night of the roof top party when Ángel starts asking insolent questions that he should no better to keep to himself.

“Yo, Diego! That new maid you have is cute as hell, huh?”

Diego is lounging on the rooftop patio, an amazonian beauty currently worshiping him on her knees. His face darkens and he regards the other man with narrowed eyes.

He addresses him between gasps of pleasure, his words rushed, “I told you before she’s not for you, Ángel.”

Ángel laughs and claps Diego on the shoulder, “It’s like that? Never thought Diego Jiménez would catch feelings...”

Diego’s orgasm interrupts the conversation. He grabs the girl by the hair and holds her head still as he fucks into her mouth, grunting with aggressive passion as he finishes. Ángel looks away, backs off. He misses the murderous gleam in Diego’s eye.

***

It’s hard to call it a routine since Diego’s life is so chaotic and unpredictable--but you get used to the flow of events that surround your employer. Most days you arrive at the penthouse to find a massive mess from the party the night before. You grumble and sigh and shoot annoyed glances at him when he deigns to wake up, but you remind yourself that the money is enough to pay off your car loan sooner and maybe (finally) move into a better apartment--so you deal with it. 

The other stuff is more... difficult. Sometimes all you have to endure is watching a gorgeous woman’s walk of shame as she leaves the apartment. But other times it’s...more. Diego definitely loves an audience. And you seem to be his favorite. He always wants you touching him in some way while he takes his pleasure from the nameless women who line up to sleep with him. You’re disgusted with yourself that you keep letting him play with you like this. But a part of you wants to be near to him anyway you can, delighting that he lets you this close, even if it’s downright insulting. What if this is all he ever offers you?

You shake those morose thoughts from your head as you enter the penthouse and do a double take at the pristine rooms. Nothing out of place, no half-dressed bodies passed out on the furniture? You practically skip into the living room thinking how much easier your day will be because Diego--apparently--spent a single night not partying. 

You should have known better.

Diego’s bent over the coffee table as you walk in, snorting a line of coke off the glass. You freeze in place, feeling like you’ve disturbed a private moment. Which is beyond dumb, girl--how many of Diego’s “private moments” have you witnessed? But you’ve never seen him getting high before…

He wipes his nose and looks up at you with bright eyes, cracking his neck with pent up energy. He has a look on his face that’s positively feral and you take a step back, feeling fear you haven’t felt in weeks. 

“Diego. Are you...okay?” you ask. Are you okay? He’s probably feeling just fine--what is the matter with you?

He smirks cruelly up at you, “Sweet, innocent, Y/N. You’re scandalized? Really? You know what I am.”

You try to sound casual and non-judgmental as you reply. Of course you know what he does for business. It’s just...

“It’s just...I’ve never seen you--”

“You want me to fuck you so bad but you can’t handle all of me, can you? Little girl,” derision drips from his words. Okay, what the fuck?

You feel tears stinging your eyes at his words. So this is what he’s like when he’s high. Charming. You turn from him and walk over to the closet to grab your cleaning supplies.

“Hey,” he calls after you, “You need to go up to the patio and clean up. We were up on the roof last night.”

You freeze with your back to him, feeling the creeping sensation of panic on the back of your neck. Is he kidding?

“Diego...I--I can’t do that…”

He stands and looms over you, his eyes are mean.

“What the fuck am I paying you for? There’s a mess up there that needs cleaning.” 

“But--”

He puts his hand on the back of your neck and squeezes. Just as he did that first day. You don’t understand why he’s being like this. He’s been so soft with you lately. You try a different tactic, bringing your hand up to cup his stubbled jaw as you look into his eyes. His eyes melt a little at your touch.

“You know how I’m afraid of heights. Isn’t there someone else…”

But his eyes harden again almost immediately and he rips away from you. You barely catch a panicked look on his face as he turns away. He’s let himself be too vulnerable with you. He can’t afford that. Not if people are starting to notice.

“I pay you to clean,” he says in a monotone, with his back on you. “Go do that.”

***

The biblical mess that awaits you on the rooftop patio is actually a blessing in disguise. It’s so bad that you’re too busy to acknowledge your crippling fear for a little while. It’s only after the first hour of bagging, scrubbing and disinfecting--when things are starting to look more civilized--that you feel the fear return. It’s about time to head down and toss the trash anyways, so you make your way to the door, lugging three full garbage bags. 

A painful knot in your throat forms when you see the door sealed shut. You’d left a chair propping it open so you wouldn’t get locked out, but the chair is on its side and the door stands shut, like a stone locking you inside a tomb. 

Okay, wow--that was really melodramatic. Maybe it’s not locked. You try the knob. Definitely not moving. Calm, deep breaths. You set the bags down and try the door knob again, turning it in all directions, pulling, pressing and tugging with increased energy as the panic takes hold. You’re stuck. You’re stuck up here. The wind blew the chair over. What if. What if...oh my god.

No. You’re not getting blown away with the wind. There is a--very inadequate--fence around the roof to protect you. You’ll be fine. You’ll just...send a text Diego and he’ll come let you inside and it will all be…

Fine.

To: Beefy Boss Boi

Hey I’m stuck up on the roof. Can you come let me back inside? Thanks.

You force yourself to sound cool and collected in the text, even as you’re getting down on your hands and knees and starting to shake. Diego will get the message and be here before you know it.

***

Nothing like an unexpected visit from his sister to completely destroy Diego’s fucking high. Not like he was really enjoying himself, he admits. Sitting around thinking about how hurt you looked when he was mean to you earlier. Fuck. It’s worth it, though. He can’t keep letting you get under his skin. If Alicia even suspected there was someone he-- nope. Fuck that train of thought. Diego does not catch feelings. He fucks. And parties. And occasionally hurts people for fun. That’s it.

He thinks about fucking Ángel asking questions about you last night. Insinuating. Had he really been so transparent? That motherfucker won’t be talking again...ever. But he needs to end this anyway.

And now he’s got the queen of all buzzkills to help him get yo off his mind. Fucking hooray.

She swans through his penthouse, looking around critically as if she’s inspecting the housekeeping. Diego feels a flare of anger on your behalf. But when she finally gets around to the purpose of her visit it’s a familiar criticism.

“You’re having too many parties, Diego. You need to fucking calm down for a while. Too many people in and out of this place. Who screens these people? Who knows who they go and talk to afterwards? Do you understand me?”

Diego’s phone vibrates from inside his pocket but he ignores it. 

“I screen them, Alicia,” he responds stonily. She has no faith in him. 

“Diego, I’m not asking. I’m telling. Cool it for a while.”

She leaves and Diego stalks into his bedroom like a sullen teen. Fucking bitch.

***

You’ve sent Diego about twenty text messages and he’s still not here. It’s been about an hour since you realized you were trapped and you’re just curled up on the ground clutching your phone to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut. Imagine you’re someplace safe. Ugh! Your mind decides to supply you with an image of Diego’s stupid face. Diego who is ignoring your texts because he’s mad at you for no reason?

Finally, the door slams open and you hear his voice call your name. You’re too far gone to even look up. He rushes over and wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest and pressing soft kisses into your hair. A faint voice inside pipes up and says you should try to enjoy this feeling while it lasts. A louder voice is still wailing, Danger! Danger! Danger!

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispers, tucking his arms underneath you and picking you up in one swift motion. Ugh, first time in your life getting carried bridal-style by a guy strong enough to lift your dead weight ass and you’re basically incoherent. You cling to his shoulders with bruising force until you’re back in the safety of the stairwell. 

When he finally gets you back into the penthouse you nearly sob with relief. You never thought you’d feel so safe in this place. He tucks you into the leather couch and leaves to dash up to his bedroom, returning with the massive coverlet stripped from his bed. He wraps you in it, cocooning you in the rich fabric until you feel like a safe little burrito. He’s so attentive and considerate. So...not Diego. He tucks the blanket around you and then just kneels there next to you, watching your tear streaked face as you take everything in.

How are you supposed to deal with this? Earlier he was so cruel and now he’s acting all...sweet and caring. You have whiplash from his mood swings. You decide you don’t need to deal with anything right now except calming down and feeling better. You lay your head back against the armrest and close your eyes, steadying your breathing.

Diego stares down at you. He’s still feeling the aftereffects of the fear that had gripped him when he finally glanced at his phone and saw all of your increasingly panicked text messages. How could he ask you to go up there when he knows how scared you are of heights? He’d been selfish and juvenile. Everything Alicia thinks of him is true. He scowls in self disgust and clenches his fists in his hair. So stupid!

You open your eyes to see Diego’s anguished expression and you feel every ounce of anger and betrayal bleed out of your system. You lift a hand to cup his cheek and whisper, “Thanks for coming to get me.”

Diego frowns and answers, “The next time I ask you to do something like that. Tell me no. Okay? You...you don’t have to do whatever I tell you. You’re…”

Different...special...beautiful...innocent...good…

But he can’t say the words. Of course he can’t. Instead he leans down and presses his lips to yours, kissing you with all of the grace and gentleness you’ve never seen him give to any of his lovers. 

When he pulls away you can already see the seed of regret and denial in his eyes but you choose to ignore it for now.

Tags (message or ask to be added/removed):

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[girlwithshipsshitshow]

Bound together: Part one

April 1st, what an ironic day to hold a funeral, but there wasn't much time to plan it, everything happened so fast, the crash, the planning, and then arguing over what to do with ten year old Misaki. In the end Takahiro had to get a full time job and turn down an acceptance to M university. Thank god the two had Usagi, what would they do without him.

Usagi stood in the rain by the entrance of the church, he lit a cigarette, and sighed. He was waiting for his friend Takahiro and Misaki, his ten year old brother. Usagi had only recently met Takahiro during their last year of high school, but they had become fast friends, Usagi had even developed feelings for him, he would never let Takahiro know that. Usagi wanted to be here for the support, and he was kinda excited to meet Misaki, he was all Takahiro ever talked about. Usagi looked up when he heard a slight commotion in the distance, he saw Takahiro pulling a little kid who he assumed was Misaki.

Takahiro: Misaki, don't pull we have to go!

Misaki: (Sobbing), No this is all my fault.

Takahiro: (Picks up Misaki, who puts his head in Takahiro's shoulder). Come on! (He hurries to the church doors stopping in front of Usagi). Usagi-san, thank you for being here, (holds hand out, Usagi takes his hand shaking it).

Usagi: Anytime man. How are you holding up?

Takahiro: You know, I'm okay. Trying to stay strong for Misaki.

Misaki: (Lifts head up, smiles shyly at Usagi) H-hi.

Usagi: Hi Misaki, i'm Usagi.

Misaki: Hi, Usagi, you're my brothers best friend right?

Usagi: Well, I-

Takahiro: Yeah Misaki, he is.

Misaki: (Jumps out of Takahiro's arms) I want to stand with Usagi.

Takahiro: (Angrily) MISAKI, DON'T JUMP OUT OF MY ARMS LIKE THAT, YOU COULD GET HURT).

Misaki: But, i'm fine, God, you're so overprotective. (Looks up at Usagi, motions for him to come down to his level, Usagi, was a full three feet taller than Usagi, he was basically a giant compared to Misaki). Usagi, I have to tell you a secret.

Usagi: (Bends down) What is it?

Misaki: You shouldn't get to close to me, you might die like me parents.

Usagi: Misaki, what do you mean?

Misaki: My parents died because of me, I told them to hurry home and then they crashed, it's my fault.

Usagi: Mi-

Takahiro: Guys, we need to go in. Misaki take my hand (Reaches hand out for Misaki).

Misaki: No, I don't want to.

Takahiro: Fine, lets go. (Walks in, heading towards the front of the church).

Usagi: Misaki, what do you mean it's your fault, you told them to hurry, but that doesn't mean they did, they got into an accident, and that happens all the time, do you know the real cause?

Misaki: Um, a driver raced through the light and it wasn't their turn it was a head- hea-he-

Usagi: Head on collision?

Misaki: Yeah, that's it. But If I didn't tell th-

Usagi: (Places hands on Misaki's shoulders), Misaki listen to me. It was NOT YOUR FAULT, your parents hand every right to go, the other person didn't they were the ones rushing.

Misaki: It's really not my fault?

Usagi: (Pulls Misaki into a hug), Misaki no, it's not. Come on, we should go in.

Misaki: can I hold your hand?

Usagi: Yeah. (Takes Misaki's hand, the walk into the Church five minutes into the service).

Takahiro: (Angrily whispering), finally, where were you guys, this is important.

Usagi: I know, he was upset, I was calming him down.

Takahiro: (Looks over at Misaki) Are you okay?

Misaki: I'm okay, are funerals always this boring?

Usagi: (Chuckles softly).

Takahiro: (Snaps) Misaki!, and Usagi-san stop laughing, you should know better, don't encourage him.

Usagi: I'm sorry, but he's funny. Misaki, funerals can be boring, even when you love the person.

Misaki: Oh, I still feel sad.

Usagi: I know.

Misaki: (Punches Usagi's arm) soft, can I rest my heads here?

Usagi: Sure kid.

Misaki: (Smirks, lays head against Usagi's head).

Takahiro: Don't let him do that!

Usagi: He's fine, plus shouldn't you be up there speaking?

Takahiro: In a minute, don't let him fall asleep, (stands up, walks over to podium, Clears throat) Thank you all for coming- (His voice fades out).

Usagi: Hey kid, so are you okay?

Misaki: I guess, I don't know why I thought their death was my fault.

Usagi: You told them to hurry home, they got into an accident, then this happened so automatically you assumed.

Misaki: My brother tried to tell me it wasn't my fault, but hearing it from someone who isn't him made it make more sense.

Usagi: So you feel better?

Misaki: I'll get there. Thank you.

Usagi: (Ruffles Misaki's hair), You're Welcome.

Misaki: (Smiles), You're a cool guy, I wish we could hang out more.

Usagi: Yeah, well you're a cool little dude Misaki, we can hang out if you want, I heard you might need help with school at some point.

Misaki: Yeah, I'm not great at school. What about you?

Usagi: Not to brag, but I'm really smart, I got accepted into the top law school, not that I need it, I'm also a writer, but I'm not big enough yet, so in case that doesn't work out, being a lawyer is kinda a backup.

Misaki: WOW! (his eyes grew big, he was extremely impressed by this guy, Misaki wanted to get to know him a lot more, truth be told, he kinda had a little crush on him, not that it mattered he was eight years older and he was sure it wouldn't last).

Takahiro: Usagi, (He sits down blowing out angry air). How could the two of you talk the entire time, it's extremely disrespectful.

Misaki: Takahiro, Usagi was being nice. (Smiles)

Takahiro: (Grins, he had never seen Misaki smile like that ever).

Usagi stands against the back wall of the church, watching Misaki and Takahiro talk to relatives, Misaki looked back at Usagi giving him a bored expression causing Usagi to return a small grin. A smaller group of relatives form around Misaki and Takahiro, Misaki ducks under the group and walks to the back towards Usagi.

Usagi: Misaki, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your relatives?

Misaki: (Leans against the wall Beside Usagi), Why? I don't know them. I don't even want to be here, I just wanted to say goodbye to my parents, and I got to do that. And now Takahiro says we have to go to some relatives house for food or whatever? why do we have to do that? We already had the wake.

Usagi: Maybe your brother wants you to get to know your family?

Misaki: (Chuckles, kicks the floor), They all live two hours away at least, I never see them, I don't want to get to know them.

Usagi: So are you excited for school?

Misaki: Nope, I hate school, I'm no good at it. Do you like school?

Usagi: I guess? I mean I like learning, but I get lazy when it comes to putting in the work. I don't always turn it my work on time, but I always get really good grades.

Misaki: DO YOUR WORK!!

Usagi: (Chuckles), I do, but I lazy.

Misaki: I just don't understand it.

Usagi: Doesn't Your brother help?

Misaki: He's smart, but he doesn't understand what I'm always doing, he wants to get me a tutor.

Usagi: Um. you know I can help you.

Misaki: Wait really? I mean don't you already have a lot on your plate, with school and being a writer?

Usagi: Yeah, but I can carve time out to help you.

Misaki: (Throws arms around Usagi) THANK YOU!

Usagi: (hugs him back) Sure kid. So what do you like to do?

Misaki: (Pulls away, grins): Cook, I love to cook, I've been cooking since i was like three.

Usagi: Wow, three! that's impressive, I can't cook.

Misaki: At all?

Usagi: I burnt water...

Misaki: No, you didn't

Usagi: (Pulls out Phone, shows Misaki a picture of water on fire).

Misaki: How does that happen?

Usagi: I didn't think it could, so I order a lot of takeout.

Misaki: Huh. I need to cook you some food, How have you been alive this long, I guess your family?

Usagi: No, I am not close with my family, I moved out and got a penthouse at sixteen, I've been living on my own since then.

Misaki: How are you alive?

Usagi: Takeout mostly.

Misaki: I want to laugh, but I feel like you aren't joking.

Takahiro: Misaki, there you are I was looking all over, I was scared.

Misaki: You clearly weren't looking hard enough, I was here the whole time.

Takahiro: (Pulls Misaki's arm) Come on we have to go to Aunt Yua's, she's making dinner for the whole family.

Misaki: (Pulls away) The whole family, the family that you know and I don't, the family that will leave our lives again after today? Aunt Yua lives three hours away? I don't want to go there.

Takahiro: We'll be there for a week, you'll get to know them.

Misaki: And then what? Will we see them again?

Takahiro: Well, probably not.

Misaki: So what's the point?

Takahiro: Because they are My- Our family and I miss them.

Misaki: Yeah, YOUR family and YOU miss them, I don't know them.

Takahiro: (Runs hands over face), Misaki, what do you want me to do, you can't stay here alone.

Usagi: I can watch him.

Takahiro: Usagi, I can't ask you to do that, you just met the kid, and Misaki can be a handful.

Usagi: No, it's fine, Misaki is cool.

Takahiro: Are you sure about this? Misaki is this okay with you?

Misaki: YES!

Takahiro: Okay well, I'll give you Misaki's bag, and then we'll see each other in a week.

Usagi: Sounds good.

(The three of them walk to Takahiro's car, he opens the back door, reaches in a pulls out Misaki's bag handing it to Usagi).

Takahiro: Misaki, be good for Usagi, he's a busy man.

Misaki: I know.

Takahiro: Call me if he causes any trouble and I'll come and get him right away.

Usagi: (Puts his arm around Misaki), Ah I'm sure we'll be fine.

Takahiro: Okay, I'll miss you Misaki. (Gives Misaki a kiss on the cheek).

Misaki: Ew not in front of Usagi, don't embarrass me. But I'll miss you too, be safe.

Takahiro: I'll call when we get there.

Misaki: Okay bye. (To Usagi) Can I have a piggy back ride?

Usagi: Sure kid hop on.

Misaki: (Climbs on Usagi's back, the two wave goodbye, heading to Usagi's car).