#and eve laughing until she's crying because of how ridiculous she looks

[lanas-delight]

from across the room.

♫ rec: about you by the 1975

✰ an enhypen scenario || gen!reader x jake

✰ description — a disastrous break up, raging arguments, fading love, and what could’ve been.

✰ warnings — language, arguments, mention and accusations of cheating, and a LOT of angst.

✰ note — u guys dont know me yet but i have been told im a mastermind when it comes to writing angst 😍 (ive js made my friends cry with what ive written before lolz) anyways enjoy! 🤭😅

Relationships never lasted with you. It was never your fault exactly, it was either them not being ready for it or just plainly doing you dirty, but you always moved on. It never phased you much, any of it, though that was because all of those people before weren’t him.

His name was Jake. You met him exactly two years and 23 days ago. Your two year anniversary was 18 days ago. You loved him, and he loved you. Everything was good. You were already living together, which happened about seven months ago, but there hasn’t been any issues. Everything was good—until it wasn’t.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” Jake huffs, falling back onto the shared bed of yours. “Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do, maybe more,” he was referring to the business trip he was being forced to go on for a few days. He leaves tomorrow, and he hated that he would have to leave you again. This wasn’t the first business trip he’s ever been on, especially lately. He had gone on seven the last two months alone. You kept count.

"When will you be back?"

"Saturday?" He sounded unsure. "I'll call you once we get there, though," and he sat on the bed, putting on his shoes and tying the laces before continuing to pack his suitcase. You didn't say a word, only sat beside his suitcase and in hopes to reassure you, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You, however, just sighed and looked over at his direction, your eyes avoiding his, earning a puppy-like look from him. "What?"

"You sure have gone on a lot of trips lately," you remark, though quietly. He stares at you as you continue, "I'm worried, Jake."

"About?"

A sudden twist in your stomach, you felt sick. "Nevermind, I'll sound stupid," but he sits with you, worried and concerned terribly.

"No, what is it?"

You sighed again.

"Talk to me, Y/N."

"Are you having an affair?"

Jake laughed. He laughed. "What?" He scoffed, "Why would I ever cheat on you? Are you insane?" Such a kind thing to say to your partner, but he took it back instantly. "I'm sorry. That wasn't nice. It's really just a business trip, Y/N," he tells you, "I only love you."

"But how can I trust you?" You stood up, apart from him as he watched you with furrowed brows. "You've gone on so many, so often, you—You barely call when you're gone. How am I supposed to be sure you're not in bed with someone else?"

"Y/N," he shook his head, "If you don't have trust, we—"

"We have nothing, right?" And you turned, "Nothing new," You then walked off but he followed you into the kitchen, his packing coming to a sudden halt as he tried to make things right with you before he would leave. You grabbed some of the dishes and started to hand-wash them, while he stood near you and tried to reason with you.

"You're being ridiculous," he tells you, a bit rudely, "Why won't you listen to me?" But you ignore him. "Y/N, please. I don't want to leave with us like this. I love you—"

"Then prove it," You turned to him suddenly, "Prove that you love me, because you don't. You sleep in our bed for a couple nights then you're off on another trip. You kiss me but there's no love. There's nothing. There's . . ." You sighed, "There's nothing between us anymore. Because of you."

Jake took a step back. "Y/N, what are you saying?"

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and looked through your photos, showing him a screenshot you had taken off of Jake's phone. Messages with a girl who you didn't recognize, but when you messaged the girl, she swore they were just friends, that she had a boyfriend. But even that won't stop a girl sometimes. You didn't know how to feel, you weren't even sure if the messages had the intent of an affair. It was innocent chatting, you thought, but the fact he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes then made you realize the truth. It wasn't innocent. It wasn't a surprise either.

"I don't know why you talk to her, tell her everything while you tell me nothing, but if she's what you want, then she can have you." You threw a pot down in the sink, creating a loud noise to echo through the kitchen and the rest of the apartment as you stormed out, grabbed your coat and slid on your uggs. "I'm going to F/N's," you say, seeing him appear in the hallway behind you. "Goodnight, Jake." The door slammed behind you and you left, leaving the love you had once for him behind.

He called twice, left a voicemail, and sent over 30 messages, explaining everything. He didn't have feelings for that other girl, though he didn't give you any reason to think otherwise so you left that night. You didn't want anything to do with him. Genuinely, you didn't. You didn't know if he had actually cheated, though he claimed he didn't and that he would never do that to you, but he opened up to that girl about things you never even knew an ounce about.

She did have a boyfriend, but it wasn't until a week later that she texted you, telling you that she did like your boyfriend, which caused her own boyfriend to dump her. It wasn't surprising to you at all.

You had been staying at your friend's house for the last week, so when you finally called him back, you only asked him if he had any feelings for that girl. He didn't say anything. He hesitated, but he said no. However, that wasn't enough for you. You hung up on him and texted him that you were through. You asked him to have his stuff out of your apartment by next Friday, which he agreed to.

But on that Friday, when he was taking the last of his stuff, he stopped and looked at you coldly, unsure what to say but spoke anyways. His voice deep and hurt, just like his heart, just like yours.

"You didn't fight for us," he told you, "You didn't even care to listen to what I had to say. You leave every time it gets hard, you blame me for everything I do, but what am I supposed to do when you won't even hear me out, Y/N?"

"I don't know," You stared back at him with crossed arms, "Maybe don't cheat on me?" You scoffed, but he couldn't believe you.

"Why do you have to brush me aside like that?" Jake questioned, "You never listened to me. Have you even considered the possibility that I didn't open up to you because you didn't give me the chance to?"

You unfolded your arms, but you took his words the wrong way. "Are you implying I made you cheat on me?"

But that enraged him. "I didn't cheat on you, Y/N!" He raises his voice, throwing his hands in the air defensively, "I talked to who I thought was my friend, about personal stuff because I couldn't bring myself to talk to you about it, so instead of just trusting me to tell you on my own, you go through my phone and accuse me of cheating on you."

"You hesitated," you threw it back in his face, "When I asked you if you liked her, you hesitated before saying no. You had to think about whether or not you liked another girl while you were with me. Do you not realize how pathetic that made me feel?"

"Do you not realize how pathetic you've made me feel?" Jake remarks, tears in his eyes, mirroring yours, "I'm the bad guy in every part of this story, Y/N, because you won't even give me the chance to explain myself. You keep dismissing me and ignoring me, but why won't you listen to me? I love you with all I have, Y/N."

But you wiped your tears, sniffling. "I never want to see you again."

His eyes grew wide, but he didn't fight against it. He grabbed the last of his stuff and left without another word spoken between you both.

There was a party. You didn't know anyone but your best friend, but as she had gone off with her boyfriend, you were now alone, sitting on the couch, drinking liquor out of some plastic cup. You wore a red dress, made of satin, with heels that weren't too high that your ankles wanted to break but not too flat that made you appear too different from everyone else. You didn't want to be different, easy to single out. You wanted to fit in, just like everyone else. But you weren't like everyone else. That was clear the moment he saw you.

The room was crowded. You could barely see over dozens of people piled into one room. Music blaring, dim lights as one of your favorite songs started to play. People were dancing, people were drinking, having a good time like there was no tomorrow. And there he was, standing by the wall. You could see him through the small spaces between people. His eyes were glued to his phone screen for a fleeting moment, one that felt a little too long until he suddenly met eyes with you and in response, you smiled at him from across the room, while your heart jumped out of your chest and you had never felt more noticed in your life.

He approached you soon enough, breaking the awkwardness with a little joke before he sat beside you and started an easy-going conversation with you about what you did for work, what he did for work, etc. The night ended with a lightly-sober kiss between you both, where he said something so beautiful to you that you swore it was engraved into you. He said, "You are so pretty when you smile, but when it was just at me, like I was the only person in that crowded room, I knew it was you that I'm going to fall for." Five days later, after a couple of sober dates, he was your boyfriend. And for two years, you promised yourself that he was the one. Until he wasn't.

You had a dream once, that you married Jake and had a family with him. You had a couple of dogs, ones he and the kids all named like Scout, Georgie, and Layla the 2nd. You had your dream job, as did he, and you were just so happy with him and the kids. He had built you your dream house, with a concrete pool and a beautiful backyard that the kids would run all over in with the dogs. He had always promised you that he would anything for you—build you a house, give you the family you wanted, be the husband you needed. You loved him with your entire being, and he felt the same way about you.

But it had been five years since the break up. You haven't heard from him in at least four years, and the last thing you were told, he was engaged to some new girl and was moving back to Australia after the wedding.

You had met someone else, too. You had only been dating for a few months now, nothing too serious just yet, but you were just getting used to being in a relationship again. You were taking it slow, not wanting to rush anything.

You didn't have feelings for Jake anymore. You haven't loved him in years. But there's a part of that wishes that fate would lead you back into each other's lives, single and open for a second chance. But that was never going to happen. You were never going to be the one he stares at from across the room, where you smile at him and start the love that should have lasted forever, but it never stood a chance. You had moved on, and so has he. The memories of what love gave you both lingers in your eyes, your mind, and for the rest of your life, you'll know that it just wasn't meant to be. From across the room, you'll stay, and regret ever smiling at him for he became the love of your life, just as quickly as you left him. It was over. But you were okay.

You had to be.

———————————————————————————————

A/N - sorry guys i felt like hurting feelings today mb

[rblackdeco]

Bloodsport - rosekiller

— pairings: barty crouch jr x evan rosier

— a/n: angst angst angst, the most heartfelt gut wrenching angst i've wrote in a while, for a moot on twitter and i really hope she doesn't kill me for that :) ily bru

— summary: what if barty died first? and what if it was in front of evan?

Blood. There was so much blood, everywhere.

Evan was shaking. He was shaking, because it wasn't supposed to be like this. To end like this. No, because in between the two of them, Evan was supposed to go first.

Him. Not Barty. Anybody, but Barty. Not his Barty.

"Rosie...?" Barty was quiet as a whisper, quiet as he couldn't be all these years. Bad sign. Horrible sign, in fact, because he was never quiet. Raspy too, a tone that reminded Evan of all the lazy mornings they've spent together in bed. "Rose, look at me... Please, look at me."

Begging, how pathetic of him. How low, he thought, because he knew Evan wouldn't any other way. His eyes full of tears, his face a mix of emotions and still, Barty has never seen anyone more beautiful. He thought what a bliss from the gods that he could die looking at something so beautiful, something he adored so much. What a bitter and twisted death wish that was.

"I don't wanna die..." Barty coughed, his blood splaterring Evan's perfect shirt, his grip on it tight. He wouldn't let go, he swore, he wouldn't, until he had already passed. He was convinced he could fight death itself were it to try to take him from Evan. But Evan didn't respond, didn't waste another look at him.

"You won't die." Evan said, his hands pressing onto the wound. A knife wound, what a simpleton. What a ridiculous way to die. Maybe it was fitting to him, maybe it was fate.

But Evan said fuck fate.

"Rosie, it's bad." Evan wished he could shut Barty up. He wished he wasn't right like always, he wished he could fix it, but it was way beyond his abilities. And even if he knew how, his hands were shaking far too much to do something like stitch Barty back together, the tears clouding up his eyes far too much for him to see something beyond the blood.

Of course blood, because Barty was nothing but a fighter. To the very end.

"I'm so sorry, Ev..." He whispered, his tears falling to Barty's shirt. Evan shook his head.

"No, no, you're okay..." He sobbed, but just once. Just once, and still, enough to shatter Barty's heart in a million pieces. Barty lifted his hand, touching Evan's cheek and smiling.

That fucker was smiling. Evan was gonna kill him.

"Evan..."

"Shut up, Barty." He frowned, wiping the tears from his eyes away.

"Please, look at me... Wanna look into your face." And Evan did. He shouldn't have, he knows it, but he did anyway, his eyes watercoloured, grey mixed with the deepest shade of teal, the one Barty always adored. The one he always called his angel eyes. "Hey, Ev? I love you."

The smile. There. Evan wanted to knock it out of his face, whether with a kiss or a punch, he wanted Barty now more than ever to take it seriously. He wanted more than ever for Barty to act like the pretentious fucker he have known his entire life and fight. Because it couldn't end like that.

"Don't leave me like that, you asshole." Evan held back a strangled laugh, fearing what it would become of him if it left his lips.

"Say you love me, Ev. Say it now or you'll regret it." Barty's lips trembled in a way Evan has seen few times in his life. Usually, it meant anger. And usually, Evan could kiss, or cuss it better. But that was different. That was fear. With that, Evan had no idea of what to do.

"Don't you dare" He spat, trying to smile at him, but it was pointless. Evan was every meaning of the word mess. Shaking, crying, desperately tugging into Barty's shirt as the boy coughed again, his body propping up. Not a single one of the many horrors in the life of Evan Rosier had prepared him for the anguish of losing someone so dear to him. "Don't you dare to leave me, you hear me?" He pleaded.

Except he didn't. Except now, Barty smile was permanently froze on his face, his eyes permanently looking at Evan. Evan's grip finally loosened.

It was foggy the night Barty Crouch Jr died. And it would be foggy every day after that too. At least for Evan.

[fanficimagery]

When Enough is Enough pt. II

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 8.5K Author’s Note: Okay so some of you asked to only be added to part 2 of this while others asked to be added everything Bucky.. and a few others weren’t exactly clear. So if you want to be tagged in any future Bucky related imagines please let me know so I can get your blog name written down on my list.

Tags:  @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination  @mimilh @felicityofbakerstreet @eternalharry @eliwinchester99 @intothesoul​ @wintershadowkat  @b1sexualtonystark  @meredeph @miszswan

The Sunday before you are to return to work, you sleep in until nine in the morning. Your thoughts are immediately on Bucky's impending arrival and you couldn't help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. He's a friend, just as all the others are, but you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this new friend of yours is. But not only does his attractiveness draw you in, his easy-going teasing and protectiveness does too. However, Bucky Barnes is still a man trying to find his footing in this world after all that's been done to him and finally getting his name cleared, and if he finds comfort with you then you're going to try your best and be the friend he needs.

So since you're not dressing to impress, you dress in your favorite lazy outfit after your shower- leggings, sports bra, a faded sleeveless band tee with the arm holes having been cut down to around your ribs, and a pair of socks. Damp hair gets gathered up into a messy bun and you walk around your apartment to pick up some things you had unknowingly left out.

You've skipped breakfast, so when there's a knock on your door and you open up to find Bucky standing there, you groan in relief. He raises both hands with paper bags hanging from each. "I come bearing sushi. Wanda let it slip how much you love it."

"Yesss." You step back, quickly taking in his own comfort outfit of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt under an opened jacket. "Did you bring plenty of wasabi? And you can just kick off your shoes anywhere."

"Of course." He hands you the bags so he can kick off his shoes and strip out of his jacket before hanging it up. You don't know why, but seeing him in a short sleeve shirt makes you happy, knowing full well he was weird about his metal arm being out in the open. "And plenty of dipping sauce as well. Wanda was more than happy to give me advice."

"Wanda, huh?" You chuckle, leading the way to your kitchen. "You actually told her where'd you be?"

"Apparently I looked very pensive this morning. She asked and I figured she was a better confidant than Steve or Sam who would have made a big deal about us hanging out."

"True." Setting the bags down, you let him empty them while you head to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing him a beer and yourself a can of Cola, you return to the table and your eyes widen at the sight of all the sushi. "Damn, Barnes. That's a lot of sushi."

"Don't act like you won't eat half of it."

You laugh as you take a seat, handing him his beer and pulling a few trays to your side of the table. You take a container of wasabi and dipping sauce for yourself, and grab a pair of chopsticks to start digging in.

You moan in delight at your first taste, happily shimmying in your seat before taking another. Eventually, you ask, "So what are you going to do when I'm back at work and I can't keep you entertained by getting shitfaced?"

Bucky grins around his mouthful of food before chasing it down with a swig of his beer. "We actually got a mission comin' up so I'll be leavin' around mid-week."

"Well that sucks." You sigh. "Now who am I going to send random pictures to when I have downtime at work?"

He grins. "You can still send them to me. I just won't get back to you until after the mission's complete."

"Yeah, yeah."

The two of you continue to eat- Bucky dodging Steve's texts about where he is and when he's coming back, and you sending the middle finger emoji over and over to Wanda who keeps wondering how your date is going. Then once most of the sushi is gone and Bucky puts what little is left into the fridge, the two of you head to the living room. You immediately flop onto the couch as Bucky takes the plush recliner, only for you to hear him moving the chair into its reclined position seconds later.

"Oh. I definitely need to get one of these."

You laugh as he snuggles down and you pick up the remote to bring up your streaming services. "Anything you've been meaning to watch?"

"Not really. Just show me your favorites."

You start off with some humor by playing the Goonies. It's a movie that no matter how many times you've seen it, it always seems to make you laugh. And it seems Bucky is not immune either when they make Chunk to the truffle shuffle. Titanic plays afterwards, but only after making sure Bucky found it somewhat interesting after reading the movie summary to him. He is interested from beginning to end and doesn't even laugh at you when you shed a few tears for the old married couple who opt to stay in their bed as the room floods.

When a break is needed, you head off towards the bathroom as Bucky finishes off the leftover sushi. Both of you check your phones and read each other the missed text messages from Steve and his worrying behavior.

"Wanna tell Steve to fuck off via video message?" Bucky takes a moment to think on it before he grins and nods. "Excellent. Sit in the recliner. I'm gonna crawl up all in your business. That okay?"

"Yeah."

As Bucky gets comfortable in the recliner, you sit on the armrest before sliding down sideways onto his lap. You bring up the camera app on your phone and switch it to video, sliding your right arm behind Bucky's neck while holding your left arm out to capture the two of you on the screen. "Ready?"

"Sure, doll."

You chuckle quietly and then smirk mischievously as Bucky relaxes his expression into his best resting bitch face. After you hit record, you say, "Hey Rogers, stop being a little bitch and sending us text after text. I'm tryin' to fuck your best friend here." Bucky's expression cracks as he barks out a laugh and you turn to face him while grinning. You share a laugh with him before facing the camera once more. "Only joking, but seriously stop buggin' us. I promise to send him back in one piece."

As you prepare to send the text to Steve, Bucky says, "You're terrible."

"Whatever. Admit it, you adore me."

"Occasionally."

You huff another laugh as the video message finally sends. You and Bucky both watch as the delivered status turns to read, and then those three little dots appear as Steve starts typing his reply.

"Tell Bucky to wrap it before he taps it." You burst out laughing at Steve's text, Bucky's rumbling laughter only fueling yours even more. "God I hate your best friend sometimes." And before you climb off Bucky's lap, because honestly you were getting a little too comfortable, you send Steve a few middle finger emojis before deciding on a third movie to watch.

The third movie you choose is one that never fails to make you laugh- Bridesmaids. You had a moment of hesitancy because of the sex scenes, but you figured they were ridiculous enough that it wouldn't be awkward. Thankfully you're correct and you get the added bonus of hearing Bucky's laughter again during Megan's scenes, especially when they get food poisoning and are all fighting for the bathroom.

You and Bucky take yet another break after the film, just stretching and finding something to drink.

"So what's the verdict, Barnes? Are you enjoying the films?"

He grins. "Your taste is all over the place, huh? That last one we watched was raunchy."

"But hilarious! You need to watch the Hangover trilogy, but you definitely need to watch that with Steve and then watch him squirm at the pictures that roll with the credits."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jurassic Park holds his attention and he can't help but comment how stupid one has to be to replicate dinosaur DNA and then open up a park with live dinosaurs. You laugh, but don't bother commenting. You'll tell him later there are more movies involved, with yet another idiotic man who felt he could get the park up and running once more.

It's getting dark, but it's still a little too early for dinner. One more movie and then you'll order or go out and pick something up.

"So this last one for the day is a movie that's directed more towards the female viewers, but you did ask for my favorite films and Practical Magic is my absolute favorite."

"Well put it on, doll."

As you press play on Practical Magic, you quickly grab a throw blanket and snuggle in. Instead of watching Bucky, you watch the film and mumble certain quotes to yourself. The magic scenes always bring a soft smile to your face just as Gary's confession to Sally of I wished for you too breaks your heart, and Sally and Gillian's heartfelt sister moment makes you cry.

Afterwards, Bucky hums in thought. "So that's your favorite?"

"Absolutely." You tell him. He's watching you curiously and you grin. "If I show you something, you promise not to laugh?"

"I'll try."

"Whatever. That's good enough for me." Standing up, you walk towards him and kneel, and tell him to pull your shirt sideways by the armhole next to your left arm. There on the back of your left shoulder and forever etched into your skin is a salt shaker, a rosemary plant, a lavender plant, and a heart. You then rattle off one of your favorite quotes to him. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

Bucky chuckles as you get up, retaking your spot on the sofa. "You really are a fan of the movie."

You nod. "As a little girl, I was fascinated by magic. I thought I'd grow out of it, but I only grew more fond of it. And then I found Practical Magic and it had a bit of everything I adored."

"So what's the one scene that just gets you every time?"

"Ugh. You're making me choose?!" You feign being distraught and he grins. As you think about it, you keep coming back to two scenes in particular. "So there's two," you tell him, "and I'm not choosing between them." Bucky nods, awaiting your answer. "Gillian's possession. When Sally calls together the other mothers who were mean to her in order to make a temporary coven to save her sister, and Gillian begs Sally to just let her ghost ex have her."

Bucky hums. "That was a bit sad, doll. I saw you shedding a few tears over that."

"Mhm. And the other scene is when Sally comes clean to Gary and admits that she did a spell as a child to call forth her perfect love thinking it wouldn't exist, only it did. When Gary tells Sally that he wished for her too, it just breaks my fuckin' heart."

"Let me guess, you were one of the girls who cast her own spell after seeing that scene." You stay quiet for a moment and the second you feel your face heat, Bucky laughs. "What did you wish for?"

You groan quietly. "If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He only smiles in response and you know he won't drop it until you tell him. "Fine. So even though I knew it would never work, I gathered the weirdest objects and wished for a significant other with dark hair and colored eyes. He had to be protective and funny and love me for me. Simple."

For some reason you can't seem to meet Bucky's gaze then and you feel awkward the longer the silence stretches on.

"So dinner?" He asks.

"Oh god, yes please. Pizza and wings?"

"Sounds good."

You have the nearby pizza place on speed dial, so after finding out Bucky's preferences you make the call and place the order. It's going to be about a thirty minute wait, so you fill the time sending Steve pic after pic of Bucky who's none the wiser as he scrolls through his own phone and adding the most asinine comments to each picture. Steve thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Then when the pizza and wings arrive, you beat Bucky to the door and thrust several bills at the delivery boy. He's more than happy with his tip and you hurriedly wave him off before shutting the door. You laugh at Bucky's disgruntled expression and then place everything on the table while gathering a beer for both you and him.

"Don't let me have more than two," you tell him while handing him his own bottle of beer.

Bucky agrees and the two of you dig into your own personal pizzas and boxes of wings once you're situated around the table. As you're eating, Bucky asks about what other movies you hold near and dear. You fill him in on a few others and he hesitantly puts it out there that he'd be up for another movie marathon when you both have a day off. You agree that that's doable.

Halfway through dinner, as you and Bucky are chuckling over the thought of making Steve sit through Bridesmaids, there's a sound of glass breaking from your living room and a muffled curse. The two of you immediately cease making any type of noise and Bucky is up with a gun in hand.

"Where the hell did that come from?! You hiss.

The telltale sound of a window then sliding shut can be heard.

"Shut up and get behind me."

The authority in his voice makes you freeze and your heart flutter at the same time, and you have to mentally scold yourself before you quickly do as he says. You follow Bucky towards the living, ready to duck at the ready, only to sigh and roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bucky stands tall and lowers his gun. "Parker." You can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Barnes?" Peeking around his shoulder, you raise your eyebrow at your best friend who's been too busy for you and is now frowning at Bucky. When he catches sight of you, he asks, "What's going on?"

"Uh, well we were having dinner until we thought someone was breaking in."

"Alone?!"

Your brow furrows at Peter's incredulousness, only for him to realize you're not impressed with his tone. You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to his face where there's a scrape on his cheekbone. "My ribs took a beating too. Can you patch me up?"

"Sure." You sigh. "Why not."

Before you can leave to go to the bathroom to get the supplies you need, Bucky says, "I'll just get out of your way then."

You stop and face him. "What? But we haven't even finished our food. It won't take me long."

"It's fine, doll." He grins when he realizes you're trying to get him to stay. "You gotta hit the hay early anyway. We'll talk soon."

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, sighing when he won't budge. "Well at least take your food with you. No use in it going to waste."

Bucky nods and heads back to the kitchen, collecting his food. You watch him and then follow him to the door, holding his food while he bends over to lace up his boots. Once he retakes his food and you open the door, he thanks you for the time away from the tower and disappears down the hall.

Shutting the door and then heading back into the living room, you tell Peter to get back into his regular clothes so you can get to his ribs while you go gather your medical supplies.

Meeting Peter back in the living room and setting everything down on the coffee table, he says, "So you and Bucky-"

"Don't." You pick up the peroxide bottle and soak a cotton ball in it. "Bucky and I are friends."

Peter manages to keep his mouth shut as you clean the scrape on his cheek and place a small bandage on it. Then when you've checked his ribs and tell him he just needs to ice them, he mumbles, "Friends who apparently lick each other." You snort and think nothing of his sullen tone, but when you look at his face you see he's actually being quite serious. There's no chuckle or boyish grin and for a moment you're absolutely floored at his attitude. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Bucky being alone with you in your apartment."

"Are you- are you kidding me?" You huff and take a step back from him. When Peter just continues to frown, you shake your head at him. "First of all, I'm an adult woman who can make her own decisions."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not finished!" You snap. Peter's eyes widen, but he smartly ceases talking. "I am allowed to have friends whether you like them or not. We have a pact, Petey, and since I'm still abiding by it I would hope that you would too."

"Yeah, but that's for significant others!"

"Significant others or friends, it doesn't matter. And you should be grateful I've kept my mouth shut when it comes to you and Leslie because let me tell you, I've been biting my tongue a lot these past few weeks. Bucky and the others have stepped up since you've abandoned me, so you have absolutely no room to tell me that you're uncomfortable with him or any of them being around me."

"Leslie isn't that bad and I have not abandoned you." You snort, but don't bother opening that can of worms even further. He finally gets annoyed with your quietness. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you needed a bandage. Tell me, Peter, where are you going after here? Where are you going after making five minutes of small talk and calling it a night?" He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, shrugs, and you shake your head at him once more in disappointment. "Exactly. Just go, Peter. I'm so over this conversation right now and I have work in the morning."

"Wait, but we promised we'd never leave a conversation where we were still annoyed with each other!"

"And we also promised we'd never judge who the other decided to spend time with, but here we are." He frowns at you. "Go to your girlfriend, Peter. We'll talk again in another few days or weeks or whenever. I don't care right now."

Peter stands there, gaping, before he pulls himself together and makes his way back towards the window he had crawled through. He glances at you one last time, but you merely keep staring until his mask encompasses his head once more and he lifts the window before taking his leave.

As the window shuts behind him, you sag in on yourself and your breathing stutters in your chest as your eyes fill with tears. You've never been this angry at Peter and the fact that he thinks it's okay to ignore you until he needs something and then has an opinion about who you hang out with was just too much for you to let slide.

You quickly gather everything from your coffee table and return it to its rightful place in your bathroom, and throw away the trash. Your appetite is long gone, so you put up what's left of your food and then head to your room to gather some clothes so you can shower and get into bed.

By the time you've crawled into bed, you're still a bit annoyed. So grabbing your phone, you pull up your text messages and click on Bucky's thread.

To Bucky: Well that was a shit show. I don't think I've ever made Petey leave my apartment while we were still angry with each other.

From Bucky: I'm sorry, doll. Anything I can do?

To Bucky: If he gives you attitude, get a non-serum individual to punch him. You, Steve, and probably Nat will send him flying into the wall.

From Bucky: If I remember..

To Bucky: Well I mean if you forget, I won't complain. I'll probably laugh when he comes crying to me.

From Bucky: You're a terrible human being.

To Bucky: Whatever. You adore me just the way I am. And now I should get some shut eye. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Sarge.

From Bucky: Night, sweetheart.

For the next couple of weeks, you keep yourself busy with work. Bucky and a few others do go on a mission as he said they would, so you keep your texts to a minimum of three each day- a good morning, a random story from that day, and a good night. They're gone for four days and in those four days you've not heard from Peter. The only reason you know he's not completely done with you is the fact he likes your posts that you put up on social media.

But since you're not currently speaking to your best friend and are too exhausted to hang out with anyone else, you're in a bit of a funk and completely caught off guard one evening when the patient a police officer brings in smacks you right across the face. You had been trying to insert an IV into his arm when he completely lost his shit, and then you were hit so hard that you were strewn across the gurney behind you. And in your vulnerable position, a fistful of your hair had been grabbed and yanked right before the police officer had intervened and pulled the patient off of you.

You had been given a bit of time to ice your cheek before you had to get back to work, but your face and scalp were hurting you the entire time.

On your way home, however, you're surprised to receive a call from Pepper. You're heading towards your apartment complex when she invites you to dinner there at the tower since Darcy is finally back in town, and you hate to do it, but you're not exactly up to be around such a rowdy bunch. So you apologize to Pepper and ask her to apologize to Darcy for you, and take a rain check. Immediately she knows something is wrong, but you only tell her you had a rough night at work and all you want is a hot shower and to crawl into bed. She hesitates but wishes you well, and the call ends moments later.

When you get home, you waste no time in locking the door behind you and heading straight for your bathroom. You strip down and take the hottest shower your body is capable of handling, and let yourself relax in the steam-filled room. Afterwards, as you're drying off, you gently dry your hair since your scalp is still sensitive and then get dressed in some of your comfort clothes.

Then heading out into the kitchen, you find some leftovers in your fridge and heat those up, tiredly sitting at your kitchen table and digging in. Just as you're done with your food and heading towards the living room, someone pounds on your apartment door. You sigh, hoping they go away, and have only plopped down onto the sofa when a familiar gruff voice speaks through the wood.

You quietly groan as Bucky tells you he knows you're there and you get up to open the door for him. He's on the verge of knocking again when you swing the door open. "Hey. Pepper said-" He trails off as he takes in your appearance, expression going slack before his jaw clenches in anger. "Who?"

You shake your head, gesturing him inside as you turn around and walk towards your sofa. You hear your door click shut before the footsteps follow you. "Work got a little hectic. No need to hunt down anyone, Barnes. I'm fine."

"Half your face is bruised, doll. You are not fine."

"It's all part of my job." You shrug and plop down onto the sofa once more. Pulling a blanket over your lap, you stare up at your friend. "There will always be a drunk and disorderly patient. I was just lucky he didn't do more damage."

Bucky frowns, but he doesn't push you on it. Instead, he walks over and sits next to you, angling his body towards yours when gentle fingers grasp your chin to angle your face more towards him. "What exactly happened?" He asks as his eyes dart over every inch of your face.

"Some petty criminal did some damage to his head in the back of a patrol car. Police officer brought him in and he seemed pretty docile up until I jabbed him with the IV. He got the drop on me. It happens." Gentle fingers brush along your cheekbone and you flinch. Tears sting your eyes as you sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Just because you keep sayin' that doesn't mean it's true."

Your bottom lip wobbles at his words and you lose the battle with keeping the tears at bay. The moment they fall, Bucky pulls you into a hug and you cry into his shoulder. "Dammit," you mumble. "See what you started!"

Bucky chuckles and he holds you a few moments longer, rubbing a hand up and your back to offer a semblance of comfort. When he lets you go, you fall back against the sofa cushions and wipe the tears away with your blanket. "So what are we watching?" He asks while settling in next to you and draping an arm behind your head.

"Shouldn't you go back to the tower and have dinner with the rest of them? I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I will drag you back to the tower and let Steve motherhen you."

You sigh. "Low blow, Buckaroo."

"And for that horrendous nickname, you've lost the privilege of choosing what we're going to watch."

You laugh and don't bother arguing with him about it as he leans across you to snag up the remote. When he settles back down and you snuggle into his side, you huff a small laugh when he settles on TLC which is showing 90 Day Fiancé.

"Why this show?" You ask.

"Because it blows my mind that some people are so oblivious and can't see that their chosen partner is only in it for the green card."

As you let his reasoning sink in, you can't help but giggle as you picture Bucky sitting in his own apartment and bad mouthing the TV because he didn't like the decisions the people were making in their love life. You watch along with him, cringing at the more obvious couples that are only headed for future divorce and smiling when one of the couples is actually in it for love.

You manage to almost watch a complete two hour episode when there's a knock on your door, but you're too comfortable to get up and answer it.

"You get it," you say as you nudge Bucky.

He nudges you back. "It's your apartment."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like getting up."

"You could have at least come up with a better excuse."

You grin, finally taking your eyes off the screen and glancing up at Bucky. "M'too tired. Brain's not working fast enough." He continues to give you a deadpan stare until you jut out your bottom lip. "Please?"

The second Bucky's lips twitch, you know you've won. He huffs and roughly pushes himself up off the sofa as if answering the door is a hardship, and you go back to watching TV. At least until you hear a familiar voice stammer, "Uh, h-hey Mr. Barnes. Is Y/N home?"

Your gaze snaps towards the door where Peter is standing out in the hallway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly stares at Bucky. The man in question turns and raises an eyebrow at you as if saying what do I do and you give him a terse nod to let him know it's okay. Bucky steps aside and Peter readily walks in.

"I should be getting back to the tower," Bucky suddenly says. "You kids have fun."

This time it's your turn to give him a deadpan stare and he smirks right before slipping his boots back on. Then as soon as they're laced up, he's walking out the door and shutting it behind him. Peter, who hadn't stopped staring at the intimidating man, finally turns to look at you. And when he does, his eyes widen.

"What happened to your face?!"

You sigh. "I'm fine. Just had a little incident at work."

"And Mr. Barnes was what? Comforting you?"

"First of all, can you stop calling him Mr. Barnes? You two avenge together and what not. I'm pretty sure that means you're on a first name basis." Peter grins as he takes a seat on the recliner near you, shrugging. "And Bucky was here because when I turned down dinner at the tower, Pepper figured something was wrong. Bucky took it upon himself to check in."

"So are you two like a thing or something?" He wonders.

"We're just.. friends," you say. "For some unknown reason we clicked and we're comfortable in each other's company."

For a moment Peter doesn't say anything, nor will he meet your gaze, but then he's looking at you and sighing. "I'm sorry." You blink at him, surprised to hear the apology. "I shouldn't have freaked out that one night. Who you are friends with and who you decide to date is your business."

You finally smile, even though it's rather small. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I know you meant well, but you should have dropped it and just trusted my judgment."

"Yeah. I know," he mumbles.

"Soo.. are we good?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Good. I was getting tired of you liking my posts and not commenting on them."

Peter snorts. A moment of silence passes and then he says, "So you'll be glad to know that Leslie and I aren't together anymore. I broke it off earlier tonight."

You wince. "Sorry."

"Nah. Don't be. She was totally using me for access to the tower." You're torn between being smug about being right and being sad for your friend who just ended his relationship. "I only realized it earlier when she got upset because Mr. Rogers posted a picture of you and Mr. Barnes together, and she had a few choice words to say about it."

"What? Steve posted a picture of us?" You quickly pull out your phone, checking social media for any notifications. There are none, but as you get on Instagram you check Steve's page and sure enough there's a new pic that shows Bucky staring fondly at you as you laugh at something on your phone. "That little shit didn't tag us!"

As your thumbs move furiously to give Steve a piece of your mind and to comment how adorable you and Bucky look, Peter can't help but say, "You're attracted to him."

Your texting falters and you quickly glance at your friend to gauge his reaction, but when he just looks amused, you shrug. "I mean have you seen him? How could I not be attracted to him?"

"Does he know?"

"I have a feeling he does. Asshole likes to fluster me every now and then."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he likes you back." You snort and go back to finishing up the comment on Steve's post. "I'm serious. When we stopped talking, he threatened me. He was pissed that I made you cry and said I was lucky. He's actually really scary when you're on his bad side."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you can feel your ears heating up, followed by your cheeks. Peter starts to laugh and you groan in embarrassment. "Why is this so weird? Dating should be easy!"

"Well he is an Avenger.."

"I don't care about that! He's just- he's really, really hot. It's intimidating."

"Wait, what?" Peter huffs. "So you're intimidated by his hotness and not because he's a super-soldier with a metal arm?"

"Well yeah."

Expression melting into one of confusion, your friend eventually shakes his head at you. "You're on your own with that. Good luck."

You hadn't realized how much everyone had known about your and Peter's brief falling out until the two of you were laughing together once again at the tower. It seemed like everyone had sagged in relief now that the two of you were poking fun at one another once more, and you had to apologize for apparently making it awkward for them.

And now that your best friend knew of your crush on a certain super-soldier, there was lots of teasing material. Of course you kept him in line when you could, but there was no stopping the force of Peter, Wanda, and Darcy combined.

It's a random Tuesday night when you've driven over to the Tower, Bucky having called you over for dinner with a few friends. You had the day off so you didn't mind heading on over, but as the elevator doors slide open after having ridden up to the communal floor, you yelp in surprise as the small gathered crows that shout, "Happy birthday!", at you.

Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Peter pop confetti poppers as you step out of the elevator, eyes wide as you glance between each of them. "My birthday is not until tomorrow!" You hiss.

"But you work tomorrow." Wanda frowns.

"Mhm." Your eyes then narrow, glancing behind them at the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. "And how'd you guys even know?"

Everyone glances at Peter and he takes a step back when your gaze slides to him. He chuckles sheepishly. "I might have hid your birthday cupcake here and Steve found it."

"Petey," you groan. "Why couldn't you just hide it at aunt May's like usual? You know I dislike birthday celebrations."

"You don't dislike them. You just dislike all the attention being on you."

"Whatever. Where's Barnes? He's the one who lured me here under false pretenses. I got a bone to pick with him too."

Everyone turns around and Bucky's head appears from around the corner. He smirks and you glare at him. "Not false pretenses. We are having dinner," he says. "It just so happens to be a birthday dinner. And it's running a little bit late, so until the food gets here you get to open presents."

"You guys all suck."

Peter and Wanda each take a hand and drag you further into the room, heading towards the kitchen. Bucky fully steps out from behind the wall and you aim a kick at his shin as you're walking by. He laughs as he easily dodges it and then you're standing by the kitchen island that's been cleared of everything other than birthday presents.

You huff a small laugh and shake your head fondly at them. "I love you guys, but you do know you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

"Shut up and open the presents," Bucky says.

"Open mine first," Sam says, reaching into the small pile and pulling out a white envelope. "Unlike the others, I was literally told within the last thirty minutes we were doing this so yeah. It's not the best present, but I think you'll enjoy it."

You smile at Sam as you open it, chuckling at the plain birthday card and his brief personal message written inside. But it's what else that's inside that makes you meet Sam's gaze once more, smiling fondly at him. "Thank you. I can't get enough of bubble tea and I'm sure I can do some damage with this gift card."

"You're welcome."

"Mine next." Peter reaches in for a medium-sized box and hands it over to you. "I know you're not a fan of presents, so I got you something I actually knew you'd enjoy."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you pull the lid off of the box. Then glancing down, you snort before pulling out a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. "I knew we were best friends for a reason."

Steve groans. "Please drink responsibly."

"Please. Responsible is my middle name, Rogers." Everyone snorts and instead of trying to remain serious and feign offense, you end up laughing. "Sam and Buck are good babysitters. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's to be determined," he says. "Here. Open mine. I honestly had no idea what to get you, but Peter assured me you'd enjoy this."

Putting the bottle of tequila back in its box, you accept Steve's gift. Pulling off the ribbon, you can't help but laugh when you see what's inside. "Cards Against Humanity." Peter cheers. "We're playing this the next time I have off," you say, grinning at Steve.

"What is Cards Against Humanity?" He wonders. "I just picked it up and boxed it."

"It's possibly one of the most confusing card games or raunchy card games you'll ever play," Sam says. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Thank you, Steve. I seriously can't wait to play it."

"You're welcome."

Wanda claps her hands. "Mine and Darcy's next. She ordered online and I had to pick it up earlier. But, um, I'm not sure you want to open it up in front of everyone."

"Oh god. Don't tell me it's a vibrator."

Sam laughs out loud as both Peter and Steve start blushing. Bucky looks rather amused and intrigued as Wanda slides two boxes over to you. She shakes her head, giggling. "Not quite."

For a brief moment you're relieved, but then her answer sinks in and you're hesitant all over again. You groan. "Is yours safer? I feel like it is. Which one is it?"

Wanda only smirks as she pushes her box towards you. You open it, marvel at its contents, and then put the lid back on much to the boys' displeasure. Trying to keep a straight face, you look at Wanda. "How many sets did you get?"

"There's four. All in colors that will look amazing against your skin tone."

"Thank you. I'll send you pictures when I wear them."

"Yes please! Natasha wants to know how they fit as well. She was the one who suggested them."

"I'll send them to the ladies group chat then."

"Well that's not fair," Sam complains. "First for not showing us what's inside the box and then you guys have a ladies only group chat. I wanna be in the ladies only group chat."

"But then that defeats the purpose of it being a ladies only group chat," you muse.

"Come on," Peter then whines. "What was the present?"

Your gaze slides to Peter, but instead of outright saying what it is, you say, "Think back to that one Halloween night where you wouldn't let me out of the dorm until I switched costumes."

It takes him only a minute to understand and when he does, he snorts. "That wasn't a costume! That was lingerie."

"Whoa, what?" Sam exclaims, grinning.

"Lingerie can be worn as a costume?" Steve wonders.

"I was actually a Victoria's Secret Angel, complete with the most amazing set of wings, and Petey forbade me from leaving the room. It was a sad, sad night."

"As much as I wanna get into that," Sam says, "I wanna know what Barnes got you more."

You chuckle and glance at Bucky, smile faltering when you see him tense. But then he seems to shake himself out of it and offers you a grin. "Open the bigger one first."

Wanda clears away the other presents as Bucky slides his two towards you. You feel giddy as you grab the bigger box, untying the black silk ribbons and lifting the lid. There's tissue paper you open up and you gasp, happily giggling. "You didn't?!"

"Well you did say it was your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Yes!" You glance up, beaming at Bucky, and your heart swells at his own smile being directed at you. "I really, really love this. I can't wait to hang it up."

"What is it?" Peter wonders, trying to peer across the island.

"It's a quote from Practical Magic," you say and Peter huffs a laugh, knowing full well your love for that movie. You carefully pick it up and turn it around so everyone can see it as you read it off by heart. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

"Aw," Wanda coos. "That's adorable."

"I made Bucky watch this movie a while back," you say. "I need to show it to you one of these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she says.

With nothing else to say, you place it back in its box and set it aside in favor for the second box. It's a little smaller, but you're excited for it nonetheless. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, you immediately laugh at the white petals scattered atop the tissue paper.

"Barnes, you smooth sonuvabitch," Sam mutters.

Steve and Peter laugh, but you're so focused on the notecard that's under some of the petals. Lifting it up, you read the note to yourself because immediately you know it's personal. My better half has to be funny, get along with my friends, won't judge me for my past, and has decent taste in movies.

Heart fluttering, you bite the corner of your lip when it feels like you're smiling way too much.

"Well what does Prince Charming have to say?" Sam asks.

"That's none of your business." You close the note and then tuck into your back pocket, chuckling when Sam and Wanda complain. When you meet Bucky's gaze, you immediately flush and mentally curse yourself when you see him smirk in return.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you center yourself and then part the tissue paper. You look at the second portrait and gasp after you read it.

"What? What is it?" Peter wonders.

This second portrait is of a hand drawn bowl with a tipped over salt shaker, a small bundle of lavender, a small bundle of rosemary, and a heart beneath it. Above the bowl is a swirl of flower petals and inside the swirl of petals, in very pretty cursive writing, are the words I wished for you too.

Did he just- did he confess his own feelings by using a Practical Magic quote? Or was this just you overthinking his present? You glance to meet Bucky's gaze and at his gauging expression your eyes fill with tears.

"What did you do, Barnes?!" Sam scolds him. "You made the poor girl cry at her own birthday celebration!"

But Bucky isn't paying him any attention, instead he's solely focused on you. You set the present aside and walk around the kitchen island on shaky legs, and Bucky readily reaches for your waist as you grab his face and pull him down into a kiss.

You can't believe you're kissing Bucky, but then he squeezes your waist and returns the kiss, and you know you made the right choice.

Someone gasps, but then the following words let you know exactly who it is. "Darcy is going to be so angry she missed this." Wanda. That is Wanda.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam wonders. "What type of present can cause this type of reaction?"

You smile against Bucky's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before falling flat on your feet after having been on the tips of your toes in order to reach his mouth.

"It's my favorite quote from my favorite movie," you say. You turn around to address your friends, but Bucky doesn't let you go far. He wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you back so you're resting against his chest and tucked beneath his chin. "It's a movie about witches," you explain. "These two little girls are being raised by their aunts and they see them performing love spells for a local woman. Basically, one of the young girls refuses to fall in love after witnessing a love spell gone wrong and she does her own spell to call forward a love that would be impossible to find- a man who's favorite shape would be a star and who had one green eye, one blue. Years down the road, the sisters accidentally murder a man."

Sam snorts. "How the hell does one accidentally murder someone?"

"Shush." Wanda admonishes him. "I want to hear the story behind the gift."

You and Bucky chuckle, and you continue to explain. "Anyway, they send in an US Marshall to investigate the disappearance and the one who had done the love spell at a young age starts to fall for this man. She ends up telling him about the murder, but he doesn't quite believe her. Then they're on the verge of hooking up when she gets a good look at his eyes- one green eye, one blue."

"Oh my god. That's so cute!" Wanda says.

"It gets cuter. And sadder," you say. "So she explains to this man about her family, the murder, and how she can't be with him because he's only attracted to her because of a love spell she did when she was just a little girl. At first he's skeptical about this spell bringing him to her, but then he ends up believing her. And as he's walking away from her, he stops to tell her I wished for you too."

"So you made out with Barnes because of that?" Sam shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow."

"It's fuckin' adorable. Stop ruining the moment, Samuel!" Bucky laughs at your words and pulls you closer to him.

"So while I'm happy for Buck," Steve says, "I'm still really curious about what Darcy's gift is."

Peter nods. "Same."

Wanda giggles, but says nothing as she grabs the box and slides it over to you. You groan because you know it can be nothing good, but you still open it since everyone is watching and waiting. As soon as you part the tissue paper and read the box, alongside taking in the picture on the box, your face flames as you shove the lid back on. Wanda cackles.

"I hate her."

"She said to give the remote to-"

"Don't!" You cut Wanda off, blushing even further. "I know who she means to have control of that."

"They- they make underwear that does that?" Bucky muses and you die a little on the inside in embarrassment. You elbow him as he starts to laugh behind you.

Sam instantly knows what the gift is now and starts to laugh, but Steve and Peter apparently need some help.

"Lewis got you vibrating panties, didn't she?"

"Oh my god, Sam, if you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

Steve is torn between laughing and trying not to make you even more uncomfortable, but his amusement wins out. "Given Y/N's flustered state, I'm assuming Darcy wants Bucky to have the remote."

"I mean this seems like it could make for an interesting night."

Everyone laughs at Bucky's sudden interest in the box you're doing your damnedest to keep shut, but luckily Peter steps in. "As much I love watching Y/N squirm, can we get ready to eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go wait downstairs for it, kid."

Sam and Peter head for the elevator to take them down to the lobby, and you turn around in Bucky's hold. "Help me take this stuff to my car so I don't have to do it later?"

"Sure thing, doll." He grins. But instead of stepping away, he pushes you further into the kitchen island. You smile as he cages you in and then huff a laugh when he reaches for the box behind you. "So exactly how long do we have to be dating before we can test these out?"

You slowly lean upward so your lips brush his as you say, "I'd say very, very soon if you would put your ass into gear and help me move these presents like I asked."

Bucky laughs and presses a quick kiss to your lips. "Then let's get to it."

The telltale sound of a phone's camera goes off and you turn your face towards the sound. Wanda is beaming, her phone pointed towards you and Bucky. "Darcy wanted evidence I wasn't lying. She's going to be so happy."

Bucky turns his face to look at her then, his cheek brushing against yours where he's yet to back off from you. "Tell Lewis I said thanks for the present. I'll give her my review of them in a few weeks."

Wanda's eyes widen and you immediately blurt, "Don't you dare!" But she's already texting and you know the group chat full of ladies is going to be full of messages that you'll have to reply to later. Quietly groaning, you slap your hands against Bucky's waist and push him back. Looking up at him, you shake your head but the corner of your lips turn up in amusement. "You're terrible. I would threaten to withhold sex, but I've been looking forward to that for a while. I'd just be punishing us both."

"Just tell me when and where, sweetheart, and I'll be there."

"Oh no. You guys are going to be that couple," Steve complains.

And without missing a beat, you face him and say, "Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snorts.

"You're cranky when you haven't gotten laid."

You gasp as Bucky bursts out laughing right in your ear, but he quickly catches you as you try to lunge for his best friend. "You know what, I was going to be discreet when banging your best friend, but now I'm going to tell you all the filthy things Bucky likes to do just to annoy you. I will go into excruciating detail about the look and taste of his dick!"

Steve blanches as it's Wanda's turn to burst out laughing. "You've done it now, Steve."

And as Steve looks to Bucky for help, he merely shrugs. "You brought this on yourself, Stevie. Hope you enjoy the play by plays."

Relaxing in Bucky's hold and moving so you're hip to hip with him, you slide your arm behind his waist and hook your thumb into the belt loop of his jeans. "We're going to have so much fun."

[solarwonux]

36. “I’m not naming our child after a book character, let alone from my least favorite book.” “Why not?”

37. “I think you’ve had enough to drink today.”

husband!joshua x f!reader

genre: fluff and a little bit of angst 

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: alcohol, drinking, hints at infertility, mentions of a surrogate, self doubt, hints at depression, mentions of therapy, brief mention of poly!gyuchan,  IVF treatment, suggestive, a cat named dog and a dog named cat, reader isn’t a fan of Shakespeare.

notes: this one’s a heavy one, but I wanted to challenge myself with this one. I did do some brief research as I was writing this one but I still could’ve gotten something wrong, so if I did let me. Either way, I’m grateful for those who read and please please please let me know your thoughts. Enjoy.xx

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS

Joshua threw his head back downing the shot of soju. His face twisted in displeasure, hissing at the bitter taste. He sets the glass down wiping his plump lips with the back of his hand before pointing a finger at you. 

“What about Elizabeth, like Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice?” Joshua asks, grabbing the green bottle of soju and pouring himself another shot. 

You cross your arms in front of your body and lean back against the dark navy booth. “Nope, try again.” 

Joshua let’s out a sound of annoyance before downing another shot. He doesn’t let the acrimonious taste settle in on his taste buds before he’s pouring himself another one and downing it. The two of you knew it was going to be a long night. Time was ticking, your surrogates due date was approaching and neither of you had picked out a name for your daughter. 

Truthfully, her name should’ve been chosen months ago. At least that’s what you and Joshua had planned during the first trimester of the pregnancy. But every time the topic came up, the two of you would end up frustrated and running back to the drawing board. You had names picked out, so did he. Neither one felt right. It also didn’t help that throughout the eight and a half months of the pregnancy a sense of guilt would wedge its way into your veins.

According to the many doctor’s you and Joshua consulted throughout the first year of your marriage. Your body wouldn’t be able to carry a child until full term. It had impacted you negatively. Your mental health was never up to par twenty four seven, but during that year - the year that was supposed to be filled with happy memories with your newly wedded husband; your mental health was at its worse. Memories that were supposed to be happy and colorful were black and white. You spent every waking moment dreaming about your child and feeling like a failure all at the same time. 

Joshua would hold you every time you cried out in agony. Each sob that came out of your lips would find its way and break his heart even further. He felt worthless not knowing what to do as he sat and watched the light get sucked out of you. He was hurting too, there wasn’t a doubt left in his head that he somehow shared your pain. But he couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like to be told over and over again that your body will never be able to carry a child. So he held you and prayed for a miracle every night. He loved you more than anything in the world and although he found himself frustrated whenever you treated yourself like you were worthless or nothing. He made a promise to you in front of your family and his that through sickness and in health he will be by your side no matter what. 

The miracle came after four years. On New Year’s Eve of that first miserable year of marriage you told him you wanted to go to therapy, but only if he went too. He gladly agreed, eyes blown up in uncertainty but he didn’t fight you on your decision. Immediately he started researching for the best therapists in town, forgetting about the holiday party at Jun’s house. 

Slowly he saw you come back to yourself. The first time you smiled at him and laughed he cried tears of joy along with you. After almost two years of individual therapy with the newly added weekly couple therapy session, the two of you decided to research alternatives. Joshua was apprehensive, he feared he would lose you again, reassuring you that the two of you didn’t have to have kids in order to be a complete family. 

That just the two of you, your cat Inu and your dog Neko was enough. In which you agreed but one of your dreams was to bring a child into the world, to be a mother and you refused to have that taken away from you. So, he agreed after many weeks of convincing and a glittery powerpoint presentation. 

Mingyu, Chan and their wife didn’t want kids, frankly it wasn’t for them. But she didn’t hesitate to offer herself as a surrogate when she learned that you and Joshua were looking for one. It took another glittery powerpoint presentation from all three of them, this time to convince you to let them help you. So you did. Eight and a half months ago through an IVF treatment, one of your eggs and Joshua’s sperm were inside of her, healthily growing your child. Each doctor’s appointment you went to, the excitement inside of you grew. 

You stayed up with Joshua talking about how grateful you were that your baby girl was so loved and she hadn’t even taken her first breath yet. Mingyu and Chan showered her with gifts endlessly. A competition between the two of them to determine who would end up being her godfather. Not to mention her other ten uncle’s competing to see who would win the title of best uncle in the whole wide world. A contest that was to be held annually. Or so they claimed.

You were happy and so was Joshua but the only problem the two of you faced was that you didn’t have a name yet. And it stressed out Joshua to the point of no return, especially after you told him that it would be better to just wait until she was physically in the world. That her name would come to you, appearing out of thin air the moment you saw her for the first time. 

Joshua on the other hand disagreed. He lived paranoid ninety nine percent of the time and liked to be ready just in case something went wrong. He also didn’t want his daughter to be nameless and bean sprout wasn’t cutting it anymore. “Okay how about Ophelia, like from Hamlet.” He says with a hopeful dewey look in his eyes. 

You grab the bottle of soju and pour yourself a shot, downing it before slamming it down on top of the dark wooden table. “Absolutely not, I refuse. I’m not naming our child after a book character, let alone my least favorite book.”

Joshua ran a stressed hand across his face. He wanted this nightmare to end. No both of you wanted this nightmare to end. “It’s not a book, it's a play baby, you out of all people should know that.” He accused, grabbing an unopened bottle of soju and cracking the seal. “Mrs. Literature major.”

“Does it come with a front cover and a back cover and a bunch of pages in between?” You challenge cocking your head to the side, pushing your shot glass towards him. 

Joshua poured you a glass before setting the bottle down and placing his chin in the palm of his hands. A cocky drunk grin evident on his face. “Yes, but it started out as a performance not a book.” He mocks.

“I disagree. Shakespeare had to have written it down first in order to then show the actors. Therefore it’s still considered a book and my statement still stands. I’m not naming our child Ophelia.” You roll your eyes bringing the glass up to your lips, taking a small sip from it. You were finally starting to feel the weight of the alcohol. It was a given the two of you were five soju bottles (almost six) in and still hadn’t made any progress. 

“Why not?” He whines kicking his feet in the process, resembling a little kid who just got told that he couldn’t have cookies ‘n’ creme ice cream for dinner. “I like Ophelia, I think it’s cute.” 

“Because Ophelia drowns in the play, what if by naming our daughter that, we are instilling her an unfortunate faith?” You explain, drawing it out dramatically with your hands. 

“That’s ridiculous. Our daughter is protected not only by her guardian angels but also she has a whole football team on standby ready to beat the shit out of anyone that makes her cry.” Joshua states in a matter of fact tone while closing the half finished bottle of soju. He was finally starting to feel the effects and the two of you still needed to pay the bill and somehow make it home. 

You huff dipping your index finger into the half full shot glass and wetting the rim. “I read about it once.” You whisper. 

“Where?” He stands up holding onto the table and makes his way to your side, sitting down. “On those mommy blogs? The one’s I told you to stop reading because they don’t make you feel good about anything?”  His arm makes it away across your shoulders and pulls you close. 

You nod, leaning your head against his chest. “I’m just scared and I want everything to be perfect. I know that there’s nothing wrong with the decision we made but sometimes I still feel guilty that I wasn’t the one to carry her.” You sigh, lacing your fingers with his. “What if she doesn’t love me?” You cringe at how small your voice sounds. This is something your therapist and you had been working on for the past three weeks. Ever since you realized that the due date was approaching quickly. You’d gotten far but the doubt still lingered no matter how much you tried to push it away. 

Joshua leaves a gentle kiss against the crown of your head. “You’re her mom through and through and she’ll love you no matter what. Your body couldn’t grow her, the risk was too high and I didn’t want anything to happen to you or to her. But that doesn’t mean you were not enough. You have always been enough and you will be the best mom she could ever ask for.” 

Years ago when you had first met Joshua you knew you didn’t deserve him. He was everything you could ever ask for and more. Every time you found yourself drowning he was there with his hand plunged into the water ready to raise you up. He was your pillar whenever you needed someone or something to lean on. He was your voice of reason and your biggest supporter. And it wasn’t fair, because you would never be able to be that person to him. 

“I love you Joshua, thank you for never giving up on me.” You sit up, closing the small gap between the two of you and leaving a soft, delicate, alcohol filled kiss against his perfect lips. 

“I would never in a million think of doing that. Baby I swear I would cut off each of my limbs and feed them to birds if that thought were to ever cross my mind.” He smiles, pecking your lips repeatedly making you giggle. The sound made his heart soar. “I know you won’t believe me but you taught me what it’s like to love someone endlessly and unconditionally and that’s something I will spend my life thanking you for.” He says, thumbs caressing your cheeks before he hugs you close. 

“Stop making it impossible not to love you.” You laugh, circling your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. “I like Ophelia too, I’ll put it on the ‘maybe’ list.” His arms get tighter around, making it almost impossible for you to breathe. He wasn’t voicing his happiness, but you could only imagine the dumb smile he had on his face. 

After all, it was rare for you to admit defeat.

The two of you stayed there for a few more seconds before he brought his face down, stopping just above your ear. “Want to go to the bathroom and fuck,  live out our young adults fantasies once more before we become parents?” 

You pull away an incredulous look decorating your face. “Yup, I think you’ve had enough to drink. Let’s go home.” You stand up, grabbing your purse, pulling on his arm earning a wine from your husband. 

“Come on just once, please baby please.” He pleads and stands up, following you as you make your way to the front of the bar where the cash register usually was. 

“Absolutely not, I don’t want to be arrested for Adultery. We are about to become parents Joshua Hong!” 

He shrugs, circling his arm around your waist watching silently as you wait to pay. “It was worth a shot, what about when we get home?” He whispers into your ear leaving a teasing kiss against your chin. 

“We’ll see. Now behave.” 

“As you wish my lovely wife.”

[capseycartwright]

“All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

:)

i had to jump on the eddie getting shot spec train for this one, no regrets 

more readable on ao3 here

send me a prompt from this list 

Eddie is pretty sure he’s dead. Which, in the grand scheme of how he’d hoped to spend his Tuesday, wasn’t all that great - he’d had his fingers crossed for surviving his shift, going home to his son, and probably watching that ridiculous Trolls film both Christopher and Buck were obsessed with - but instead he’s dead.

He has to be dead, because that is the only explanation for the fact that Shannon, his extremely dead wife, was standing in front of him.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Shannon said, her tone accusatory. She was wearing a beautiful yellow dress - one Eddie had bought her actually, at an over-priced boutique in Miami on their first ever holiday together. 

“I hadn’t exactly planned on dying today, Shannon!” Eddie tried to defend himself.

“You’re not dead,” Shannon reassured, looking as though she was aching to touch him. “You might be soon, though.”

Eddie swallowed back his own tears. He - he’d thought about how he might die. Of course he had - during long, lonely nights on deployment, Eddie had wondered if that was how he was going to go - in the sweltering heat of the desert, gun on his hip and the weight of what he’d done in the name of supporting his family pinning him to the sand. After he’d been discharged, and he got back to Texas, he’d been in survival mode - he’d never thought beyond getting through each and every day, one at a time. 

But - recently, he’d thought about it. Imagined growing old, and dying at eighty, or ninety years old - old enough that he got to see a career in the LAFD through, and he got to see Christopher grow up, and find his feet, and maybe get married, and have kids, if he decides he wants that. Eddie imagined how it might feel to die at the end of a long, happy life - a life well lived, not a life defined by the things he had done to try and survive.

“You’re supposed to die when you’re old and grey, Eddie,” Shannon sighed.

“So were you,” Eddie countered, wiping roughly at his tears. 

Shannon’s smile was sad. “I think that ship has sailed, Eddie.”

“You left me,” Eddie couldn’t help his anger. “You died, and you left me alone, Shannon.”

“If I’d had the choice, I wouldn’t have,” Shannon shook her head. “But Eddie - you’re not alone. Surely you can see that. So many people love you, and need you - Christopher, more than anyone. Eddie - all I wanted was for you to be happy, but we couldn’t do that for each other.” 

Eddie wanted to scream, and yell, and curse whatever God had put him in this situation - teetering on the edge of life, talking to his dead wife. He finally had the opportunity to tell her everything he wanted to - to make sure she knew how hurt and devastated he had been by her dying, but now he could, the words weren’t coming. 

“It hurts, Shannon,” Eddie whimpered, almost pitifully. “Everyday of my life. It hurts, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Eddie,” Shannon said, in that soft, familiar voice she used to use on Christopher. “It hurts because it mattered - it matters. But it doesn’t have to be so hard, you know - you have people to share the burden with. I wish you’d open your eyes to that.”

“This isn’t real,” Eddie shook his head, squeezing his shut tightly.

“It’s as real as you need it to be,” Shannon said. “Eddie - be happy. Please. And - really happy, okay? You don’t have to just survive, or live a life you think will make your parents happy, or Christopher happy. If you’re happy - really happy, happy for yourself - Christopher will see it and he’ll love you for it even more.”

“I don’t want to die yet, Shannon,” Eddie admitted, looking at his wife, tears pouring down his face. He wasn’t ready to go - not yet. Not like this - bleeding out in the middle of the street. He wanted to die an old man, with Christopher at his side.

With Buck at his side.

Shannon fixed him with a steely glare. “Then fight, Eddie - harder than you ever have before. You need to fight, Eddie.”

“Eddie, Eddie, come on. Eddie, open - open your eyes, please, talk to me.”

“I’m so tired Shannon,” Eddie admitted. 

“Fight, Eddie,” Shannon repeated. “For Christopher - for me. For yourself. For Buck.”

“EDDIE!”

The pain was unbearable as Eddie forced his eyes open, Shannon and wherever he had been gone - he was back, at the scene of the shooting, concrete digging into his back as Buck desperately tried to stem the bleeding. 

Eddie hadn’t needed the reminder of how it felt to get shot. He - he would never forget the searing pain of the first time he’d taken a bullet, back in Afghanistan. Somehow - somehow it was worse, this time, and Eddie figured it was because he didn’t have any bulletproof gear. He’d taken a bullet to the cheap nylon material of his firefighter uniform - no vest, no thick military issue uniform. It felt like his skin was burning, fiery pain coursing through every inch of his body. 

“B-Buck,” Eddie could taste blood, as he tried to speak - that wasn’t good. Why wasn’t there help coming? He - he must have been bleeding out for a few minutes, now, but no one was coming, no one was helping him except Buck.

Buck -

Eddie squinted at his best friend, spotting the blooming blood stain on his side. “Shooter. Still active?” he managed to choke out.

Buck nodded, pushing his hands further into the wound, ignoring Eddie’s desperate whimper of pain. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s still an active shooter scene.”

Eddie looked at Buck. “You - moved?” he tried, a coughing fit making him groan in pain. He knew he was crying - he could feel the tears rolling down the sides of his cheeks, dripping onto the rough gravel underneath his head. 

Buck nodded again.

“Idiot,” Eddie mumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Buck tried to joke. “But there was no way I was going to let you bleed out, Eddie - so you need to do your bit and stay with me until help gets here. Okay? Because I’ve got your back.”

“You’re - hurt,” Eddie gasped, yelping as Buck applied more pressure to the wound.

“I know, it hurts, I’m sorry,” Buck seemed genuinely sympathetic, but unrelenting in the pressure he was putting on Eddie’s side. “And mine is just a flesh wound, don’t worry.”

“Buck,” Eddie knew he was slurring his words now, his vision hazy as he tried to grip onto Buck’s wrist weakly. “Don’t wanna die.” 

“You’re not going to,” Buck’s voice was desperate, and Eddie didn’t need to be fully lucid to realise his best friend was crying too, tears pouring down his cheeks as he looked around wildly, trying to gauge how far out help was. He must have fallen, Eddie realised - his face was scraped up. “You’re going to be just fine, Eddie - okay? You’re going to be fine. And when - and when we’re both patched up, I’m going to take you to that beach bar in Malibu I was telling you about. The one with the cocktails I know you’ll pretend to hate - but you’ll love, really.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Like - a date?” he managed, breathing getting harder by the minute. He must have lost a lot of blood by now - Buck’s shirt was covered in it, and Eddie felt dizzy, and light-headed. 

Buck gave a wet laugh. “Yeah, if you want,” he said. “Break up with your girlfriend first, and we’ll talk.”

Eddie felt his eyes closing. “M’okay.” 

“Eddie, Eddie, keep your eyes open, okay? Keep your eyes open for me - I need you to stay awake a little longer,” Buck begged, and pleaded, but his voice was already starting to sound muffled, and far away.

“You need to fight, Eddie.”

Eddie really didn’t want to die, this time -

He had too much left to do, still. He hadn’t realised that until the bullet had ripped through his shoulder - he wanted to take Buck on a date, and he wanted to travel, with Christopher, and he thought it might be quite nice to get a dog, one day, and Chimney was convincing him to get his paramedic certification, and there was lots of things he’d never done.

Eddie had even thought about learning to cook - taking a class, maybe. 

He wasn’t ready to go, yet. 

He vaguely registered the sound of sirens and yelling but he was too out of it to know if it was real, or not - but Shannon felt real, her yellow dress stark against the white walls of wherever he was (hospital, maybe? Or heaven, he wasn’t sure.)

“You did good, Eddie,” she said, voice soft. “Be happy. Okay?”

Eddie felt a hand squeeze his - a hand he knew well enough to know it belonged to Buck, the only hands he knew that could dwarf his own, warm and familiar and grounding, holding tightly to Eddie - as though he was about to float away.

No - he wouldn’t do that.

Eddie had a few things to do first. “I’m okay,” he managed, his voice sounding like gravel, harsh and scratchy against his dry throat. “Buck. Ev. ‘M fine.” 

“I know,” Buck’s voice sounded wet with tears. “Sleep, Eddie. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Sleep. That sounded nice.

Eddie feebly tried to squeeze Buck’s hand in response. “Okay.”

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind

We’re going to ignore all typos until I have time to fix them, and also ignore the fact that it’s four am and I have a 9 am class, but this was clearly more important.

Shout out to the anon who sent in the idea for the little blurb that I did that I ended up putting in here!

Prepare for the part all of y’all have been wanting! There’s some smut in this, so be warned that it’s not great leave me be. I still hope you like it!

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

___________________________

“It doesn’t matter if other people think it’s true or not. What matters is that we know it’s true. I love you.”

“Fuck you.” 

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

“So, is there a reason it looks like a vacuum attacked Matthew’s neck in his latest Insta post? Did those appear last weekend when I was gone?” Evelina comes barging into your room, phone in hand. “Damn, you actually picked that outfit out?” 

You look at yourself in the mirror, your hair and makeup finished, the dress you had on for the charity event that Matthew was supposed to pick you up for any minute now. The black, off the shoulder high-low dress fit you perfectly, accenting every feature of your body in just the right way. But still, you weren’t quite sure if it was right. “It looks ok?” you ask her, going to your closet to find a pair of shoes to wear. 

“If you didn’t fuck each other after destroying each others necks while I was gone, you’re going to tonight.” Wiping around, you can’t help but glare at her. You did not love Matthew. But then, why did you have to keep reminding yourself about that. “Hey, I have until you finish the list to keep this up, let me live.” 

You were about to fire something back at her when you hear Matthew’s voice call from the living room. “We’re in Y/N’s room!” Evelina answers for you.

“You really abuse that key,” you say, not taking your eyes away from your closet as you try to find shoes to wear. You weren’t ready to look at him just yet. “Ev, help me find the right shoes!” 

She gets up as you hear Matthew sitting on your bed, the creak of the frame sending a shiver down your spine. “What about these?” she asks, holding up a pair of heels.

You scrunch up your face, telling her to find another option. “How does he look?” you whisper, just loud enough for her to hear.

She smiles at you, handing you another pair of shoes, “I think you need to look for yourself.” 

You put on the shoes, refusing to turn around until the last minute. You almost didn’t want to see what he looked like, but you turn to him anyway. The second you look at each other, you both stop breathing. He gets up from your bed, slowly, making his way to you while Evelina was watching off to the side. He looked perfect. The suit was fitting him just the right way, the tie in your favorite color to match the necklace you were wearing, his hair in a flawless mess, the curls going everywhere yet looking pristine at the same time. 

He couldn’t find the words to say to you, taking your hands in his as he scanned your entire body. “W-wow,” he stammers out, swallowing hard as he tries to make any sound. “You look,” he starts, not knowing what word could accurately describe how incredible he found you, “Wow.” 

You look down at your hands, intertwining your fingers in his. Everything about holding his hands just felt right. You look up at him, his blue eyes sparkling even in the shitty lighting of your bedroom. “Wow yourself,” you tell him, unable to fight the smile on your face, or control your breathing for that matter. 

You stood there standing for what felt like forever, until you were interrupted by Evelina clearing her throat, a smirk on her face. “Don’t you two need to get going?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say, breaking away, embarrassed that she just saw that. If she thought you loved him before, that would confirm it now. But you didn’t love him. You didn’t even like him. You had a list of things you hated about him, even if there were only four things on it. 

“Are you going to be alright in those shoes tonight?” he asks, looking down at the heels Evelina had picked out for you. 

“It’s not like Ev here would let me wear these,” you say, holding up your black, beat up combat boots. You hear her fake gag behind you, throwing them in her direction and purposefully missing so that you don’t break anything of yours.

“Those would ruin the look,” Matthew says, both of you looking shocked that words like that would even come out of him. “Actually, Ev,” he says, changing the subject and finally tearing his eyes away from you, “Elias wanted me to ask you something, privately?” he lies.

You and Evelina exchange glances before you leave your room. Elias has Evelina’s number, why didn’t he just ask her?

“What’s up?” she asks, sitting down on your bed, Matthew sitting next to her. He lets out a low groan, putting his face in his hands. “Y/N looks flawless,” he says, pain in his voice. 

“So what are you going to do about it?” she asks, pulling him up. “You both love each other. I know you know that. This whole list thing is ridiculous. She looks great, you look great, act,” she instructs him.

“I have tired. I can’t even kiss her on the lips without some sort of interruption. I can’t control that!” he whines, trying not to get too loud incase you were within ear shot. He’s wanted to do more than just kiss you this entire time. He’s flat out told you that and you somehow still missed the message. “How is it she’s so smart, yet so oblivious?” 

Evelina shrugs, pulling him up off the bed, “People who are book smart never have common sense, bub. I’ve been telling her she loves you since you two met. She doesn’t even listen to me.”

“This is hopeless,” he says, practically throwing himself back on your bed. 

“Nope, get up,” Evelina says, pulling him back up. Matthew nearly stumbles over and onto the floor, not expecting her to be as strong as she was. “Look, she only has four things on the list,” she explains, “I told you the first night, if she really hated you, she would have more than that. You still have two and a half weeks.” 

He looks at her, biting his lip and nodding as the two of them go out to find you waiting on the couch. “Ready to go?” he asks, putting his hand out for you. 

You get up, Evelina’s eyes going wide and her mouth falling open. “Wait, you left something in my room, Y/N,” she says, dragging you there. She closes the door behind you, “You’re not wearing underwear!” she tries hard not to scream. 

“It would show under the dress!” you try to protest, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I have worn a dress much tighter than that and you couldn’t see mine,” she provokes you, her eyes gleaming, knowing that she was right.

“I have to go,” you sing to her, trying to get past her. 

“Admit it!” she yells as you run towards Matthew, taking him by the hand and dragging him out the door. 

“Bye, love you!” “I hate you!” 

You practically run Matthew to his car, praying that Evelina wasn’t following the two of you. “Do you want to talk about what that was just then?”

“I borrowed one of her shirts and haven’t given it back because I got a stain on it and haven’t done laundry yet,” you spit out the lie. There was no way you would tell Matthew that you weren’t wearing anything underneath the dress. Not yet. “So, uh,” you start to change the subject, “What is this event again?”

“Something with the organization and the season ticket holders? It’s fancy and I was told to wear game day clothes, so, here we are.”

You look at him for a moment, your eyes tracing his jawline like when you went to the liquor store. “You clean up really nicely, Rat Man,” you say, “You look really good.” 

He smiles with the left side of his face so you can’t see it. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” he tells you, wishing he could figure out the proper words to say what he really thought. “Excited for tonight?”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to see the guys not drunk at a bar.”

“Right because seeing them drunk in a ballroom is better.” You both laugh, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence as your phone buzzes with texts from Evelina.

‘This means you love him!’

‘No it does not. Who says I have to wear underwear under a dress?’

‘You never go without underwear. Admit you love him.’

‘I don’t love him.’

‘Do you like him?’ 

You take a minute to think, looking up from your phone to see Matthew watching the road. Like and love are two different things. You liked Elias, but did you like him in the same way you liked Matthew? Did you like anyone in the way you liked Matthew? ‘Sure.’ You roll your eyes as you hit send when Matthew finally puts the car in park. You didn’t even realize you were at the venue. Matthew gets out of the car, practically running to the passenger side to open the door and help you out. With your arm linked with his, you head inside, “Who would have thought you could be such a gentleman?” you tease. 

“Only for you, babe,” he says, sending a wink your way before dropping your arm to greet some of his teammates. “I’m going to get us some drinks?” he says, leaving you before asking you what you wanted. 

You wander around, finding Elias and making conversation with him while you wait for Matthew to come back. You had wanted a vodka sour, but would he come back with that?

“You look amazing, Y/N,” Elias starts, a smile on his face not unlike the one Matthew normally gives you. 

You feel yourself blushing at his comments, unable to hide the heat that was showing in your cheeks, “You look pretty great, too.” 

“Maybe at some point tonight, you’ll save a dance for me?” he asks, moving closer to you. This was the teammate that you’ve had a slight crush on since you met Matthew, so why didn’t you feel the same way with him as you did with Matthew? His hand reaches for your waist, but you move away from him, giving him an innocent smile before turning to see Matthew standing behind you with a drink in each hand.

He tried to hide the pain he felt watching Elias flirt with you. He knew you liked his teammate, and it was clear that Elias was seeing something in you that he hadn’t seen before. But you smile at Matthew, one very different from the one you had given his teammate. A real, genuine smile that reached your eyes. Matthew knew you felt the same way about him as he did about you from that, he just didn’t know if you knew. “Vodka sour for my girl,” he says, handing you the drink you had wanted.

You feel your knees buckle ever so slightly at the sound of hearing Matthew call him your girl, taking your free hand in his, intertwining your fingers. You immediately felt a warmth rushing through you as he gave you a soft smile, taking a sip of drink before starting a conversation with Elias. You start to look around at everyone surrounding you. The dance floor was crowded, you itching to get out there with Matthew. You both finish your drinks, probably too fast, but who cared? “Hey, can we go dance?” you ask Matthew before turning to Elias, “I don’t think you’ll be able to pry my from my guy tonight, Lindy, but if he lets you, I guess you can try.”

You drag him out to the dancefloor, your hands never losing connection as he looks back and smirks at Elias. The look on his face tells Matthew that this was intentional, whatever plan he had concocted working as a slow song came on. Matthew used his free hand to pull you in by the waist, your other hand on his shoulder as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. 

Your mind starts running free as you think about dance, Matthew chuckling before letting out, “You know something about the history of dance, don’t you?”

“How would you know I know that?” you ask him, shocked that he read your mind for a second time tonight.

He shrugs, spinning you away from him before bringing you close, his front pressed against you back as he whispered, “It just sounds like something you would know.” He spins you back around so you’re facing each other, him beaming down at you. “Go ahead,” he teases you.

“It’s specific towards Canada, is that ok with you?”

He leans down, his curls tickling your face, “Anything you say to me is fine.” 

“The first written record of dance in Canada,” you start, “was by Jacques Cartier in the 1530s. He described a group of Indigenous people dancing in modern day Quebec, but it’s obviously likely that this was going on way before he encountered them.” Matthew pulls you in closer, still moving with the music as you rest your head on his shoulder. He plants a soft, long kiss on your head as you continue. “Because of the idea 'assimilate or exterminate,’ where these Indigenous people had to either change their culture to fit that of the European settlers, or risk their culture being destroyed in its entirety, their practices of dance declined until the late 1990s when groups began investing more time into preserving these sacred dances as part of Aboriginal and Canadian culture.”

You lift your head off his shoulder as he starts kissing your neck, everyone around you disappearing as you felt his lips connect with your bare skin. “Europeans settlers brought their own forms of dance to the country, eventually infusing together to create new forms. Famous dancers like Martha Graham, Anna Pavlova and Ruth St. Denis started touring the United States and Canada, leaving their own imprint on the culture.” 

He lifts his head, his forehead against yours. You could feel him grow hard the more you talked, his dick pressed against you as you stifled a moan. “Modern dance got its start in Canada nearly a decade before ballet,” you say, Matthew kissing your forehead before connecting his back to yours, “In the 1940s, Montreal became the central hub for modern dance, and stayed that way for a while. Ballet came about in a professional manner, companies developing their own identities before performing and going onto the world stage.”

The song changes and you stop moving. Staring at each other, you finish, “All of it comes together into the dance we know today.”

“Y/N,” Matthew starts, obviously staring at your lips. He wanted to kiss you. He didn’t care that his entire team was around him; he didn’t notice anyone there but you. 

You don’t know what to say to him. You take your hands off his shoulders, cupping his face. His grip tightens around your waist, a confused look of his face. 

‘Fuck it,’ you think to yourself, just like you did the other day. Your lips connect with his, everything around you melting away as you moved in sync with each other. His tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging to enter your mouth, you gladly letting him. You can feel him smiling as his hands move up your back, your hands falling down to his chest. You pull away, both of you breathing slightly unevenly. Why did you just do that? You weren’t upset that you did, but why did you just do that?

“Wow,” he whispers to you, kissing you softly again. 

“Wow is right,” you let out. 

“Hey, uh, Matty?” you hear Elias’ voice behind you. You pull away from each other, both of you slightly embarrassed that he, along with everyone else, probably just saw that. “We’re trying to do a team photo,” he says, looking like he was trying to stifle a laugh or something. 

Matthew swallows, nodding and dropping his hands from your body. “I’ll find you later,” he reassures you before leaving. 

You try to catch your breath as you run to find your phone. ‘SOS’ you text Evelina, praying that she was looking at her phone and not already asleep.

‘What?’

Your fingers hover over the screen of your phone. Do you tell her what just happened? You tell her everything, so why would you leave this out? 

‘I have another thing to add to the list’

‘This list needs to be electronic so I don’t have to get out of bed every time you think of something new’

‘Do you want to know or not’

‘Duh’

‘The way he reads my mind’

‘That’s dumb, but fine. Are you at least having fun?’

‘Yeah.’ You put your phone away before you can say anything else to her. If she found out you kissed each other - no, if she found out you kiss him, she would have a field day. You would never hear the end of it, list or not. All you had to do was rejoin the event and hope you could find Matthew.

Staying off the side, watching the event unfold, you couldn’t find him anywhere. There was something fun about seeing all the guys and their wives and girlfriends dressed up like they were, whatever photo they were doing clearly taken. The season ticket holders and management looked good, even though you had no idea who any of them were. 

“Hey,” you hear a man’s voice say to you, taking you out of the trance as you fixated on Johnny and Meridith, admiring the way they looked at each other while they were dancing. If they were back out on the dance floor, Matthew had to be following suit soon, right? “I’m Reggie.” He sticks out his hand, you smiling at him to shake it as you introduce yourself. “So, are you here with someone, or are you a ticket holder?”

“I’m here with one of the guys,” you say, trying to see if you can find him anywhere. Something about this guy wasn’t quite right, and you really prayed for an out from talking with him. 

“Really? Which one?”

“Me,” you hear Matthew’s voice say, his arms wrapping around you as you feel your shoulders relax. “Thanks for keeping my girl company.” Reggie just nods and smiles, walking away and leaving the two of you in the position you were in. Matthew holds you tighter, your hands reaching up to touch his. “You are the most beautiful girl here,” he whispers.

“You’re just saying that,” you tell him, feeling his breath on your neck as he lets out a sigh. “What if I said you were the most handsome guy here?” 

He freezes, swallowing hard and thankful that he was behind you so you couldn’t see the grin covering his face. Calling you his girl was something he said just to get the guy away, but after that comment, after that kiss, there was nothing more he wanted than to call you that and mean it. “What if we get out of here?” he whispers, kissing you between your shoulder blades. 

A chill runs down your shine as he kisses along your back, moving your hair to your shoulder as you can’t help but let out a low moan, “Matthew.” 

He moves his way up your neck, ending at your ear, “Come on. Do you want to go somewhere more private?” he whispers before his teeth connect with your earlobe. You didn’t expect that to do what it did to you. 

When he pulls away, you turn to him, mirroring the smile on his face. “Where did you have in mind?”

“Is it too early to leave?” you ask him, running your hands down his chest. 

“I’m ready if you are, babe,” he says, kissing you softly on your lips yet again. God, he hoped this was the start of something. Knowing what this was like, he could only imagine what more would be. 

He takes your hand, leading you back out to his car. You look back over your shoulder before leaving the building, out of sheer curiosity as to whether or not anyone saw you. You make eye contact with Elias, who winks, raising his glass in the air to you as the two of you disappear through the door. “Your place or mine?” he asks as the two of you practically sprinted to his car. Given what you were both sure was about to happen, he answers his own question, “Mine, got it.” 

You couldn’t concentrate the entire way to his place, thinking about what this was going to be like. You both wanted it and didn’t. You didn’t love him. You couldn’t love him. Evelina was in no way right about you being in love with each other. You just were both horny, right? That’s all it was?

Matthews hands don’t leave your body once you get out of the car. Whatever cameras were around the lobby of his building, the elevator, the hallway leading to his door caught everything. He was kissing you passionately, as if doing this was something that he had been waiting for. His hands gripped your butt, so tight that you had to hold back a scream of pleasure as he sucked away at your neck, something he seemed to like doing more than you expected. 

You were surprised your clothes were even still on by the time you get to his door. You could only imagine how red and bruised your neck was, the handprints that had to be left on your ass from him, your mind going blank as you were sure you would regret anything. 

You practically rip off his suit jacket, both of you impatient to get everything off each other. “Are you sure you’re ok with this?” he stops, his hands on the zipper of your dress as you bounced up and down, dripping with anticipation.

“All you have to do is take off the dress,” you tell him, his eyes going wide.

He swallows hard, “N-nothing underneath?” he asks you. That would mean that you were expecting something to happen tonight, right? Or did it mean nothing? He really hoped it meant the first thing. 

“Yes, take it off, come on,” you whine. 

He does as you ask, his lips connecting with yours, simultaneously taking off your dress and leaving it in the hallway while you unbutton his shirt and leave it there with it. You were down to nothing as he threw you on the bed, him rushing to take his pants off to climb on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he climbs on top off you, kissing you from your hip bone up to your mouth. “You’re really sure?” he asks you, in a quiet voice.

You nod, taking his face in your hands, “I’m sure,” you say before he kisses you again. You give him all the access he wants, the tip of his dick rubbing against your already wet opening, teasing you as you whined for him, “Fuck me, Matty.”

“I will, baby,” he says, pushing his hips against yours as he enters inside you. 

You spend the night, both of you kissing, whining, moaning, begging for each other, everything you had ever imagined with any other guy, you were doing with Matthew. You didn’t want it to be anyone else.

You were so busy, so hungry for everything Matthew had to offer, you didn’t know your phone was buzzing, texts from Evelina flooding your phone.

‘Where are you????’

‘You were supposed to be home by now.’

‘Why isn’t your phone location updating? Elias said you guys left hours ago.’

‘Please tell me you’re ok.’

[sparring-hyena]

the time of our lives.

this one was kinda requested/suggested by @cloakanddaggerthings. they’ve also been a great help in hammering out the finicky details. thanks heaps, mate! 

OR, the one where it takes a year for these two goofs to realise they’re in love.

-

i. New Year’s Eve.

naturally, this is where they start. although, start in a very loose sense of the word. because they were something before tonight. something fiery and intense, but certainly not something real.

they were midnight rendezvouses, sharp remarks that lacked any real malice, and moments that somehow meant nothing and everything. but what they were is irrelevant. because Poppy’s got a reputation and parental expectations, and AJ doesn’t fit into any of that.

so, they stand in the front yard of some frat house, a New Year’s party raging on inside, and fight. they shout and cuss and say things that don’t at all mean but that make this whole thing easier.

it’s with ten seconds of the year left that Poppy says, “i hate you,” and feels something break in her heart.

“i hate you, too,” AJ says as the countdown finally reaches zero.

there’s cheering from inside and then AJ leaves and now Poppy’s standing alone on the front lawn. she ignores the tears that fall down her cheeks and tries to tell herself that everything will be fine.

so, yes, that’s how they start: in the final ten seconds of the year with an i hate you that actually means something else entirely.

ii. Valentine’s Day.

she sees AJ sporadically throughout the day. and that irritates Poppy like nothing else ever has. figures it would be today of all days that she sees her everywhere.

first it’s at the crack of dawn as she walks home after a one night stand that she spots AJ on a jog. they’re on opposite sides of the street, but it’s empty so they see each other.

AJ stops in her tracks and looks right at Poppy, not exactly irritated but certainly not pleased. Poppy fixes her with a glare that says what are you looking at? AJ shrugs and starts up on her jog again, and Poppy huffs and continues on her walk home.

then they see each other on campus way too many times—in the café, on the quad, and in the library. and each time, Poppy’s glare is met with a shrug from AJ.

the last time she sees AJ it’s late. the sun has long since set and there’s a chill that’s set in for the night. she’s on her way home from dinner—some blind date Veronica had set up—when she spots AJ across the street, laughing and walking hand-in-hand with some girl who looks vaguely familiar.

Poppy watches them until she can’t see them anymore, and wonders if AJ saw her this time, too.

iii. spring break.

she goes to Miami for the week with Veronica and Chloe. her intention is to have a fun and carefree week where she doesn’t once think about AJ.

it’s two days into her trip when she finds herself scrolling through Instagram late one night. curiosity nibbles at her restraint until she’s typing AJ’s name into the search bar.

she finds AJ’s profile and the first picture she sees is some candid shot of AJ and that same girl from Valentine’s Day looking at each other with ridiculously cheesy smiles. Poppy switches her phone off and doesn’t dare touch it for the rest of the night.

Poppy goes to a party the next night and hooks up with a girl who looks a lot like AJ. Veronica and Chloe point this out a few days later, laughing over cocktails. Poppy scoffs and tells them that’s complete bullshit and tries to hide her blush by taking a long sip of her drink.

iv. summer break.

the academic year ends and Poppy sighs with relief as she collapses onto her bed. she’s got three months until her final year starts, and three months where she doesn’t have to see or think of AJ.

it goes well at first—the not thinking about AJ. she spends a lot of time shopping and partying and lounging by the pool of her parents’ beach house on Long Island. but there are only so many hours of the day where she can keep her mind busy. so it’s at night, when she’s in bed trying to fall asleep, that her mind wanders back to AJ.

the first time it happens, she groans and rolls onto her side, and tries to flush all thoughts of AJ from her mind. that works. but then it happens again and again, and before Poppy really knows it, it’s halfway through August and she’s thought of AJ every single night since the end of June.

she lays awake in bed and watches the fan on the ceiling spin in lazy circles. her brain summons a long and near forgotten memory of a night a lot like this. she closes her eyes and sinks into the warm embrace of the memory:

she was in bed with AJ. it was either late or early, Poppy can’t quite remember. she decides it probably doesn’t really matter. they were talking and laughing under the quiet blanket of night. and Poppy suddenly remembers how she’d reached for AJ’s hand and never wanted to let it go.

Poppy opens her eyes and glances to her side. the bed is empty beside her, the sheets untouched, and she can almost feel the ghost of AJ’s touch on her hand. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to cry, and realises she never did hate AJ. she was probably just scared.

v. Halloween.

there’s a party on campus—isn’t there always? a frat party with costumes and decorations and cheesy music that starts to sound alright after three or four drinks. Poppy slips in later in the night, when everyone’s teetering on the edge of tipsy and drunk.

she moves through the throng of people towards the kitchen to pour herself a drink, and bumps into AJ for the first time this semester.

“hey,” AJ says, awkward and unsure, and Poppy silently regrets everything she’s put her through.

“hi,” Poppy says, smiling and really meaning it.

that seems to loosen AJ up a bit, and she returns the smile in kind.

“haven’t seen you in a while,” AJ says, leaning back against the counter and sipping her drink.

“been busy,” she lies even though that’s something she’s trying to stop.

and AJ seems to understand the lie for what it is. “you wanna go outside for a bit?”

Poppy only nods, afraid that if she speaks, she’ll ruin whatever’s happening right now. it’s quieter outside, the cheesy music and chatter nothing but a gentle murmur. they stand out on the front lawn of some frat house and Poppy gets a strange sense of déjà vu.

“i wish things had been different, y’know?” AJ says, her voice a gentle reassurance.

“me too,” Poppy says, and then: “i’m sorry that i said i hate you. because i don’t.”

a moment of silence passes, uncomfortable and almost tight like a rubber band pulled to its limit. because it looks like AJ’s about to say something important that’ll put them on a better path. but then the front door of the frat house flies open, and a few drunk students stumble out into the yard.

AJ offers Poppy a smile, almost sad and longing. “it was nice seeing you again.” and then she heads back inside.

vi. Thanksgiving.

Poppy doesn’t plan on visiting her parents this year. and besides, they’re going out of town for the holiday. so if she has to be alone, she’d rather it be in the sorority house than in some stuffy brownstone on the Upper West Side.

it’s late in the afternoon when Poppy gets a text from AJ. all it says is are you at the sorority? she stares at it for a moment, debates deleting it and carrying on with her day. but something tells her to respond, so she does.

she says that she is and waits for AJ’s response. she waits five minutes, then ten and nothing comes. Poppy scoffs and tosses her phone onto her bed. it’s not long later when she hears a knock on the front door. Poppy doesn’t think much of it, so she answers it without checking.

she finds AJ standing on the front stoop, grinning like she knows something Poppy doesn’t.

“what are you doing here?” Poppy says. “i thought you’d be on your way home by now.”

“i’m getting an early flight tomorrow.” then AJ holds up a plane ticket, grinning like this has been her plan all along. “and i was wondering if you’d want to come with me.”

“what?”

“come home with me. my parents always cook too much food, so really, you’d be doing them a favour.”

Poppy folds her arms over her chest and studies AJ for a moment. “don’t you want to take your girlfriend,” she says, and maybe she wants her words to hurt a little bit.

“we broke up over the summer,” AJ says, simple and easy.

“oh. sorry.”

“don’t be. it wasn’t working out and hadn’t been for a while.”

“are you trying to use pity to get me to come with you?” Poppy says, and she knows AJ wouldn’t, but it’s kinda fun to mess with her.

“no, of course not! i just wanted to be upfront with you. so, come home with me. please.”

Poppy plucks the ticket from AJ’s hand and says, “i’m only doing this for your parents.”

“of course.” AJ winks and grins. “i’ll see you bright and early at the airport tomorrow then.

the flight is uneventful, although Poppy decides AJ is much too cheerful for seven o’clock in the morning.

when they step inside AJ’s childhood home, Poppy’s immediately struck by just how warm and lived in it all feels. AJ’s mother tells her to mind the mess as she ushers them both inside, and AJ’s father greets them and says hugs’ll have to wait as he gestures to his dirty apron.

they all cram around a too small table in mismatched chairs that creak and rock back-and-forth. Poppy doesn’t care that she’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with AJ and one of her sisters. dinner is loud and fun, and AJ’s parents insist on sharing stories from AJ’s childhood. and as dinner winds down and dessert is served, Poppy reaches for AJ’s hand beneath the table and knows that she’ll never let go.

vii. Christmas.

it’s close to midnight on Christmas Eve when AJ appears on the front stoop of the Zeta house. she looks distraught and like she hasn’t had a good night sleep in days. so Poppy steps outside and asks, “what’s wrong?”

AJ looks at her, really looks at her, and Poppy feels something shift in that moment. and then AJ’s talking, words tumbling from her mouth, and it doesn’t look like she can stop herself. then she says i love you and everything goes still.

it takes a moment, but AJ seems to catch up to what she’s just said. her eyes go wide, and Poppy can see that she’s gearing up to apologies. but Poppy doesn’t let her. she surges forward and hug AJ tightly because oh god, i’ve missed her so much.

Poppy doesn’t say the words back, not yet anyway. but she holds onto AJ and tries to show her that she loves her, too.

viii. New Year’s Eve.

naturally, this is where they end. although end in a very loose sense of the word. because they will be something after tonight. something supportive and challenging, but most importantly something real.

they will be promises of forever, witty remarks that are just an i love you in disguise, and moments where the rest of the word falls away and it’s just the two of them together. what they will be terrifies Poppy. because she’s got a reputation and parental expectations, and AJ doesn’t fit into any of that... right?

maybe. but maybe it’s good that AJ doesn’t fit into that. maybe it’s good that AJ had upended everything she thought she knew. maybe that’s what makes what they will be so damn perfect.

so, they stand in the front yard of some frat house, a New Year’s party raging on inside, and finally admit what’s been there all along. they talk and tease and say things they mean with all their heart.

it’s with ten seconds of the year left that Poppy says, “i love you,” and feels that final piece of her heart heal.

“i love you, too,” AJ says as the countdown finally reaches zero.

there’s cheering from inside and then AJ steps closer to Poppy, smiling so bright and warm, and Poppy twists her arms around AJ’s neck and doesn’t once care that she’s probably smiling like an idiot in love.

so, yes, that’s how they end: in the final ten second of the year with an i love you that means exactly what it claims.

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Miami

The “It’s you and me alright? This is it.” bit for @thatesqcrush Friends challenge doubling as a little Rafael/Rebecca moment. I'm excited to do these since I haven't seen friends and can kind of just go off titles and quotes.

When I Became a Man, I Put Childish Ways Behind Me Back Before You Lost the One Real Thing You’ve Ever Known Here We Are as in Olden Days Trust Me Abuelitas, Tantrums, and Ropa Vieja Happy Valentine’s Raf Bring Your Daughter to Court Day and Dad Friends Because You Don’t Have to do This Alone (If Rafael Answered the phone?)

“It’s a date night, Becs. Can’t we celebrate a year?”

“We can. I’m just surprised Lucia is letting us out on our own during a visit.”

“Mami and Enrique getting all of the grandkids in their house for a night to make cookies and watch Frozen? You’re right. Her worst nightmare."

“Point taken,” she laughed, smiling at him in the hotel room’s mirror. He’d told her he just thought they could use a night to themselves before the festivities. Unlike Lucia, Enrique had four kids who would be joining their dad for Christmas, and each kid had at least one of their own. That meant eight more adults and what totaled out to ten grandchildren, eleven with Catalina.

In reality, a ring box was weighing down the pocket of his slacks, and texts from his mother had been silenced. Abuelita’s ring had been sized and cleaned, and he planned to ask her at dinner if he could remember how to breathe until then. His head was spinning anytime he thought about it too long, and his chest would burn as he realized he was holding his breath. What if she said no? That was his worst nightmare because he hated the idea he was to finally make himself vulnerable in a new way. He hadn’t opened himself to as much rejection since they settled into a routine. Would this be a repeat of I love you so many years ago? He was different, wasn’t he?

It was probably more appropriate to wait until Christmas morning or New Year’s eve, but he wanted them to be alone, and the twenty adults and children joining their little family was too much. Catalina was spending the evening with grandparents, who themselves had recently eloped, and it would be nice to have Rebecca to himself in the aftermath. It shocked him to think about the fact he didn’t know a year ago about Catalina. He was preparing himself to apologize to Rebecca and pray she’d take him back, and now he was a year into fatherhood and a healthy relationship preparing to ask her to make it permanent.

Watching her do her make-up in the mirror was his favorite part of this hotel room. They’d checked in that morning and been thoroughly lazy. Now, he was taking her to dinner in Little Havanna at a place Enrique swore had live music and fantastic wine and paella. It was almost seventy degrees, even at night, and it felt like a treat to see Rebecca in a fluttering sundress and heels after so long bundled in winter coats. When she was almost ready, he tucked his white button-down into linen slacks, rolling up his sleeves. In the humidity, he’d given up on gelling his hair, so he combed his fingers through his beard before she gave a spin.

“I’m ready.”

“Hermosa como siempre, amor.”

“I like it when ya speak Spanish,” she grinned, waggling her brows. “And when you leave a few buttons undone.”

“Comportarse, chica sucia. Dinner.”

“Gladly, papi.” He put his hand on the small of her back as he led her to the street. Maybe he should do it on the walk. They were going to be early anyway. “There’s the bartender I don’t like.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“She was flirting with you!”

“It’s you and me, alright?” Rafael grinned, kissing her temple. “This is it. You set the bar way too high.”

“I like the sound of that. It’s nice in Florida. We could retire down here.”

“You’ll retire long after me.”

“I can work here a while or you can be retired in the city a while.”

“I’ll be ecstatic to be retired beside you. We both know I’ll have to keep myself busy either way.”

“You’ll work until the bitter end.”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll like being abuelito with you.”

“Sentimental.”

“Can you blame me?” he hummed, arm around her waist. “There’s a park near the restaurant. We’re a little early. Want to find a bench?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

They sat and watched the city, and Rafael could tell he ought to ask now instead of later. He was nervous, despite the fact they’d talked dozens of times about marriage and that they were ready and they wanted it. What if she changed her mind? He’d just have to accept they weren’t getting married yet.

Rafael had arranged a playdate for Catalina so he could overanalyze every moment in the park with Hank, and it was, frankly, a little embarrassing to be a fifty-year-old man being coached by a man barely in his thirties. Hank was as sure as Lucia and Olivia- and probably Rebecca herself- she’d say yes.

“Are you okay, Raf?” She’d caught him staring as the gears whirled in his head. It was no good to self-sabotage on the off chance she’d had a drastic change of heart in the last ten days.

“I’m wonderful,” he said softly, and Rebecca watched the softness of his gaze. Suddenly, he was moving, and her brow furrowed until she realized he was on one knee with a little velvet box in his hand. She gasped, eyes wide as her face split into a broad smile. Rafael was laughing, and despite the beard peppered with gray and lines in his face, he looked boyish and bashful as he took her hand in his. There were people nearby, and he felt himself start to sweat when he heard an abuelita gasp for her company to stop. People were watching, but there was no way she looked so happy and would say no.

“Raf-”

“Rebecca, let me actually ask.” She turned red, leaning forward where she sat so her forehead was almost against his. “Becs, I love you. I messed it up last time, but for whatever reason, you had enough faith in this to give me another chance. Showing up on your doorstep was the smartest thing I ever did. I am so immensely grateful. For you. For our daughter. For the life that we get to live. You’re home. You’re safety and peace and happiness, and I won’t ever do anything to put our family in danger again. You and Catalina make me better. I want this to be official. Rebecca, will you do me the immense honor of marrying me?”

“Por supuesto que sí,” she beamed, and Rafael realized he’d been crying. He did that now when he was overcome with how happy he was. Before he could fully process that she’d answered him in Spanish, something that touched him more than words could express, she was kissing him, her hands cupping his cheeks. When she pulled back, he reached for her left hand, pulling it from his cheek and fumbling as he slid the ring onto her finger.

“It was abuelita’s,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face.

“It’s an honor to wear it. And to marry her grandson.” Another kiss.

“I meant to ask at dinner but I was getting too nervous.”

“This was perfect.”

“Hola. Disculpa por interrumpir.” It was a man, phone held awkwardly in his hand. He could see an older woman watching him expectantly. “Mami me hizo filmarlo.”

“Gracias.” He gave his cell number, waving to the pair before turning back to Rebecca and pulling her close. “I’ve had that sized for a week.”

“When did you decide?” she teased, bumping his hip with her own.

“On the details? Or that I was proposing in December?”

“Both?”

“Details, a month ago. December? Probably January.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic now, you know that?”

“And you’re going to be Rebecca Barba.”

“Does Lucia know?”

“I had to mute her. Want me to see how many messages since I last checked?” He scrolled to it, humming. “Twenty new notifications. In an hour. Four are venues. Two are mother of the groom dresses. Is that a thing? Six houses in Miami. Dios mio, mami is having a field day. And Hank sent ‘Get out of your head. She’ll say yes. If you chicken out, I’m sending her a check yes or no note for you.’”

“I like you having dad friends who call you out.”

“Yea, yeah,” he smiled, arm around her. “I have a fiance to take to dinner and dancing.”

“You’ll even go dancing in public?”

“Sólo en Miami con mi prometida.”

[rhysismydaddy]

Naughty Neighbors pt. 6 (Elriel)

LAST PART!! Thank you for reading this far and for all the love/comments. I honestly didn’t know Elriel was this popular which is why I hadn’t written much before now. Any particular ships y’all want next?

______________________________________________________________

~Elain~

Hearing the bell to the shop door clink, she walks out of the storage room and calls out, “We’re closed!” 

“Hi, Elain.”

Elain stops dead in her tracts, because she recognizes that voice. And the woman it belongs to. 

It’s the woman from Azriel’s apartment... the one he loves. 

“Um, hi.”

“I’m Mor. Azriel asked me to come talk to you.” 

“I don’t see why,” she responds drily. 

The woman shakes her head, ruffling the golden curls hanging around her perfect face. “Because everything he told you was true.”

Elain sighs and reaches to grab her keys. “Listen, I’m sure you’re nice, but you don’t need to lie for him.”

“I’m not lying. I went to his place a few weeks ago, but nothing happened. I kissed him in the hall because I knew you’d be watching. All of it was my idea.”

Hope starts to blossom, but she stomps on it with a steel-toed boot. “I don’t really believe you. No offense.”

She smiles, and the pain in her chest gets worse at how pretty it is. “He was right. You’re adorably sweet.”

Elain blushes, and Mor laughs. “Anyway. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. He’s my best friend, but it’s never been romantic between us. I mean, we faked a relationship in high school before I came out, but-.”

Before I came out.

Wait. 

“You’re gay?” Elain practically explodes. 

She tilts her head. “Azriel said he told you that.”

“I didn’t believe him! I thought he was just covering his ass. Oh, gods, he was telling the truth? You’re... but that would mean...”

Mor raises a perfectly groomed brow. “I’ve never had sex with him. The thought makes me kind of nauseous, actually. I’m sure he feels the same way.”

Grasping straws at this point, she says quietly, “But... but I saw you kiss each other. It didn’t look fake.”

“Like I said, we fake-dated for four years so my parents wouldn’t catch onto the fact that I was dating a girl.” She laughs. “We got good at faking it.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Elain says honestly. 

Mor smiles kindly. “He also wanted me to tell you that he didn’t laugh because you kissed him. He laughed at my very happy reaction to the news. And he did say he wants you to love him before things go further, but he was joking about tricking you into it.”

The flowers around her blur as she realizes that everything she’d been worried about was a misunderstanding. 

She’d thought he’d been making fun of her and only pursuing her because she was unavailable. That he’d laughed about her wanting him, that he hadn’t wanted her back.

She’s spent two weeks being miserable, and it was all because she didn’t just tell him what he “did.”

And the way she’d treated him...

“Azriel... I’ve never seen him like he is with you. When he first told me about you, he couldn’t stop smiling. He doesn’t love easily, so I knew you had to be special.”

Closing her eyes, she thinks about all the awful things she said and called him. 

Special.

Gods. 

“Elain, you’ve really changed him. I don’t know how it happened so fast, but... before you, he’d never mentioned a girl to me. He loves you.”

“Not after what I said,” she whispers back, everything coming back to her in a rush. 

“Oh, honey, you’re wrong about that.” Mor comes around the counter and wraps her arms around Elain gently. “He knows you didn’t mean any of it. And he feels awful for messing with you in the first place. He just wants you to believe him.”

“I do,” she says honestly. “It all just sounded...”

“Like the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard? Yeah, I figured. So did he. That’s why he asked me to come.”

Elain wiped her eyes, surprised to see they were damp. “I’m glad you did. It was nice meeting you, even under the circumstances.”

“It was nice meeting you, too, Elain. Azriel’s lucky to have you in his life. And you’ll see me again. We’re going to be good friends, I think.”

She laughs but nodded. “Okay.”

“He told me not to ask, but I have to know... did you really throw up when you saw him this week?”

Elain’s nose wrinkles as she remembers the only time she’d seen him. He was outside the tattoo shop and had paused and looked at her with such unguarded hope and raw emotion she couldn’t take it. “Of course I didn’t throw up. I just didn’t want to cry in from of him.”

“Oh my gods that’s so much better. Um, you might want to tell him that.” Mor smiles and gives her shoulder a playful shove. “Now go tell him I did my job and to stop blowing up my phone.”

Laughing, Elain nods and watches as she leaves, then starts to clean up and close the shop. She feels better than she has since... since she kissed him. 

After rushing through her routine, she looks at the flowers around her and gets an idea. 

She’s grinning as she locks up and rushes home, making the walk in record time and running up the stairs to their floor.

Like the lady she is, she bangs on his door impatiently, not wanting to waste another second being so damn stupid. 

It swings open, revealing him in all his dark t-shirt and jean glory. Her heart starts beating harder just at the sight of him, and she has to clear her throat as she holds up two of the same flowers he bought earlier and says, “You forgot these.”

Azriel smiles, a full, big, beautiful smile that practically forces her to grin back. “I don’t know how. Most expensive flowers I’ve ever bought.”

“The only flowers you’ve ever bought, you mean.”

He shrugs as if to say same difference. 

“You talked to Mor?”

Elain nods. 

“And you... you believe me now?”

Another nod. 

“I’m forgiven?”

She shakes her head at that, but before he can start worrying, she intervenes. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Azriel,” she whispers, sliding her hand in his. “But I did. I’m... I’m so sorry for everything I said. And for the way I treated you. I should’ve just talked to you. I was just hurt and embarrassed and... I don’t know.”

Heartbroken.

He takes the flowers with a little grimace, and she laughs. “You didn’t do anything wrong, either. You thought... gods, I don’t even want to know what you thought I was doing. I’m happy you stood up for yourself.”

His hazel eyes track down her frame to their linked hands, and before he can say or do anything else, she tells him what she’s been dying to for weeks. 

“I broke up with Lucien.”

He continues looking at their hands, but there’s a soft smile on his face, so she continues. “The day after... everything happened. I think we’d both known for a while it was over, I knew then I didn’t love him.”

His eyes meet hers, making it difficult to say the words she wants to. “I knew I couldn’t really love him if I kissed you like that. If I felt like that after just one kiss.”

“Elain.”

“And even though I couldn’t stand to think about you at the time, I couldn’t stop. I mean, any girl would if they had someone practically demand that they give them their heart,” she jokes, and his lips twitch. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off. 

“But you don’t need to demand or eve ask for my heart, Azriel,” she whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Because it’s yours. It’s been yours ever since I saw you on that roof.”

She laughs at herself and shakes her head. “I tried to not give it to you, but...”

Taking his hand, she places it on her chest, right where it should’ve been this whole time. “It’s yours.”

He’s perfectly still as he stands like that, hand on her chest, breath mingling with hers. 

But then his trademark little smirk finally appears as he looks down at her and says, “Glad to see you finally stopped lying to yourself.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Azriel just laughs, the sound so light and happy, curls his fingers to grab the front of her dress, and pulls her inside his apartment. “I’ve never been in here,” she remarks, looking around. 

She doesn’t get much time to, because he uses a hand on her chin to raise her face to his. “I’ll give you a tour later.”

Elain breathes a sigh of relief as his lips meet hers, immediately winding her arms around his neck. She hears the door close and a splat she assumes is the flowers hitting the floor, but she doesn’t even care. 

Just like the first time, he kisses her slowly and purposefully, making her go on her tiptoes to get more. 

His hands go to her hips and lift, and then she’s being put on a counter top. Azriel stands between her thighs, pulling her flush against him. 

“This is the kitchen,” he mutters as he tugs on her earlobe with his teeth, making her moan.

“It’s hideous,” she breathes, eyes still pressed shut. He smiles against her skin and presses a kiss to her cheek. 

His hair is silky soft between her fingers, arms strong around her. This right here is heaven; she’s sure of it. Being kissed by this man is heaven.

“Say my name,” he murmurs, running a thumb over her lower lip. 

Leaning forward, she drags her lips across his jaw, down his throat. “Azriel.”

A hand in her hair pulls her head back, and then he kisses her again, and it’s a little more desperate and raw. 

His palms scrape across the top of her thighs, gently pushing the hem of her dress u[ until the lace of her underwear peaks out. Eyes dark, he looks down, then huffs a laugh. 

She grins, too. They’re completely lace, but they have small, white spots that are designed to look like daisies all over them. 

“You just might make me like flowers after all,” he says, dragging his tongue over his lower lip in a way that makes Elain almost pass out. 

His arms wrap around her again, tighter this time, and hold her hostage against him as he kisses down her neck and across her chest. She’s squirming and trying desperately to move, to do something, but his arms are steel around her. 

She gasps as he sucks on the spot directly under her ear, and he takes that as the cue to scoop her up. Clinging to him, she keeps kissing him, even as he walks across his apartment and into his bedroom. 

Thank the gods, she thinks as her back meets a mattress. Pulling on his shirt until he’s on top of her, heavy weight pressing her down, she moves her hips against his.

It’s the sweetest torture, and she doesn’t want it to ever end.  

He apparently agrees, because even though she’s panting and desperate for more, he continues to just kiss her. 

Elain reaches for the hem of his shirt, and he lifts up enough for her to pull it off. 

Scars, tattoos, tan skin. 

Beautiful. 

Her lips meet his collarbone, goosebumps forming on his skin. But then he’s turning her face up and her mouth becomes occupied by his. 

“I want to kiss you forever,” he tells her, nibbling on her lower lip. 

“Okay,” she agrees, pulling him back down to her. 

It’s a wonderful eternity before he reaches around her for the zipper of her dress, slowly tugging it down. Then he leans up on his knees between her legs and puts his hands on her calves. 

So slowly she squirms, he traces his hands up her legs, taking the soft fabric of her dress with them, until she’s in nothing but her underwear and bra. 

Bracing himself on his elbows, he leans to press a kiss against the smooth skin of her stomach. He drags his lips over to her hip and kisses there, too. Then he makes a path up to the middle of her chest. 

There’s a little rose bow on her bra, and he tugs on it with his teeth. “Fucking flowers.”

Elain laughs, even as rough, perfect hands go to her back and unhook her bra. When it joins the pile of clothes on the floor, his mouth meets her skin, and she moans. 

“You drive me crazy,” he growls, kissing the tip of her breast. 

Even though she can’t hardly think straight, she says, “You drive me crazy, too.”

“Oh, I’m about to.” He smiles up at her, then pulls her nipple in his mouth, hand going to the other. 

Well, at least he warned her. 

Elain makes an ungodly amount of sound as he teases her, and she’s pretty sure none of what she says makes sense, but she can’t bring herself to care. 

Her body’s coming alive under him, and she’s never felt so... worshiped. 

“Azriel,” she groans, and his dark eyes open to meet hers. 

The sight of him looking at her, mouth still on her skin, makes her whimper. “I can’t take this. Please.”

He releases her with a small pop, pressing one last kiss to her breast as he murmurs something about her ruining his fun. 

She doesn’t care. 

She needs him, and she needs him now. 

Tattooed fingers slip in the waistband of her underwear, and he watches her intently as he drags them down. “I think I’m going to frame these.”

Elain blushes, and he smiles. “I like making you blush.”

“Well, you’re exceptionally good at it,” she grumbles, embarrassed. 

His hands go to the buckle of his jeans, and she watches with unguided interest, even as he says, “I’ve wondered for weeks how much you’ll blush when I fuck you.”

Cheeks bright red, she says, “That’s filthy.”

He toes his boots off, then his jeans hit the floor. “Baby girl, you have no idea.”

“Gods above, please tell me I’m about to,” she begs, way past protecting her dignity. 

Azriel rolls his eyes but crawls back up the bed, settling in between her thighs. “Say my name.”

She smiles. “Azriel.”

He pushes into her slowly, and she gasps against his shoulder as he keeps going and going. Then he draws perfectly still above her, letting her adjust. 

Or maybe letting himself adjust, because he makes a strangled-sounding noise and mutters, “Fucking gods above, Elain.”

Then he starts to move, and she’s inclined to repeat that sentiment because fucking gods above. 

He’s moving so slowly her eyes start to cross, but she can’t bring herself to care because it’s similar to the way he kisses her. Slow and sensual and deep enough to drive her insane.

But it’s also the fact that he’s taking the time to get to know her body and what she likes. And he’s a very studious man. 

A hand on her thigh encourages her to wrap herself around him, and she kisses him everywhere she can reach. His lips, his jaw, his shoulders. 

Brow knitted in concentration, he moves his hips in a deep circle against hers, and she moans. 

His mouth trails back down to her chest, and she clings to him as her body trembles underneath him. 

“Azriel.”

The grip on her hip tightens a little, but he refuses to give in and speed up, and she realizes with a jolt why he’s so determined to draw this out. 

He isn’t trying to fuck her; he’s making love to her. 

That thought, coupled with the way he feels against her, becomes too much, and she pants, “Azriel, I’m going to-”

His mouth covers her just as she finds release, swallowing the sounds she can’t hold in. 

But he doesn’t stop. 

No, he chooses that exact moment to finally increase his pace. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, gripping his shoulders and praying her heart doesn’t stop completely. She feels like she’s coming apart at the seams with pleasure, and she can’t hold herself together. “Gods, Azriel.”

His hips are rough against hers, hands fisted in the sheet next to her head, jaw clenched tight. 

If she still had a working brain, she’d be embarrassed by how loud she’s being. But she doesn’t, and she isn’t. 

His name falls from her lips again, and Azriel makes a low sound that only adds fuel to the fire. 

Her nails are digging into his shoulder blades, but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit as he continues to pound against her. One hand is braced by her head, the other still gripping her hip, and he lifts her almost completely off the bed, not even breaking his rhythm. 

Elain groans, and it gets louder as he sucks on the soft skin between her neck and throat.

But it that, or anything else he’s doing to her body, that that finally pushes her over the edge again. 

It’s him looking down at her, heart in his eyes, and saying, “Elain.”

She comes with a cry, and this time he follows her, hands gripping her hips tight enough to bruise. She gets a front-row seat to the show, and it’s the best thing she’s ever seen. 

He curses in a low, broken voice that makes her toes curl, and his muscles go tight under her hands as he stills. Their breath mingles together, both of them panting like crazy. 

Eventually he relaxes between her thighs, putting his head on her chest, and she wraps her arms around him. 

For some reason, she can’t help but laugh as she runs her hands slowly through his hair. 

He peeks up at her, brows raised. “Why are you... giggling?”

Elain can’t even answer him, because she’s laughing harder now. 

His hands clamp over her shoulders and shake her gently as he smiles down at her. “What?”

Finally getting herself under control, she says, “I’m really glad the apartment next to us is empty.”

Azriel grins, then a laugh bubbles out of him, too. “Me, too.”

~Azriel~

Until tonight, the happiest time of my life was when Cassian, Rhys, and I got wasted off our asses, got lost in the middle of a national park, and spent four days doing stupid shit to try and figure out where the hell we were. 

I realize now how dumb that was. 

Because four fun days with my friends has absolutely nothing on having Elain Archeron sleep in my arms. 

Moonlight turns her skin milky and smooth and casts her hair in shadows as I run my fingers through it. She sighs happily, breath heating my chest. 

She’s passed out, head in the crook of my shoulder, leg thrown over my waist. 

And I’ve never been so content with being unable to sleep. 

Honestly, with her next to me, I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep again. Why the hell would I, when I could watch her instead? 

I trace the curve of her lips, and they twitch under my touch in a way that makes me grin. 

I’m completely wrapped around her finger, and I couldn’t care less. 

Because if every night’s like tonight... the thought makes me insanely happy. 

She’s mine, and I’m hers, and right here in this moment, everything’s perfect. 

Elain must feel me staring at her, because her eyes peek open a moment later, brown and sleepy and beautiful. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” I kiss her brow. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

The hand resting on my chest starts exploring, and she murmurs, “But I’m awake now.”

She kisses my peck, and then the leg draped over me settles next to my hip, and she’s braced above me. She grins and raises a brow when my hips press into hers, but what did she expect? She’s naked. And beautiful. 

“I hope you know, I’m going to bring you flowers every single day,” Elain informs me as she hovers above me in a way that makes my jaw clench.

Fuck. 

What’d she say?

Flowers. 

“Okay,” I say in a shallow voice, brain focused on her and the teasing little movements of her hips. “I love flowers.”

“Liar.” 

I smile, and she mimics the expression. Brushing her hair behind her ear, I tell her, “You look beautiful today, Elain.”

Rolling her eyes, she laughs. And then she sinks down, and we don’t talk for the rest of the night. 

____________________________________________________________

I didn’t edit the last part of this whoops. Thank you again for reading and feel free to drop new requests/questions in the box. 

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[e-milieeee]

christmas eve—adrienette

Summary: Christmas Eve with the Dupain-Chengs is even better than what Adrien imagined. 

Notes: A commission for @mlbforblm! 

Word count: 1.2k (a significant amount longer than it was supposed to be... whoops?) 

Adrien Agreste isn’t good with presents.

He supposes it runs in the family. After all, his father had gotten him ridiculously expensive pens three years in a row, a gift that took an embarrassingly little amount of thought even for his father—and he hadn’t even bothered to buy them himself. Then there was the one time he had initially thought his father had gotten him something worthwhile only to find out he had really done nothing at all—and stole the credit for Marinette’s gift.

So, yeah. Adrien’s been cursed with hereditary bad gift-buying genes, but he resolves that this time, it won’t be as bad.

He arrives at the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery five minutes before the arranged time, and in fear of appearing rude, he loiters outside in the cold, huffing out breathes of white air as he toes the ground and tries to stay warm. Then, six o’clock on the dot, he knocks on their front door.

The bakery is closed for Christmas Eve, but it doesn’t mean the interior looks less lively. In fact, the lights are brighter than usual, cheery and warm, and Adrien can almost feel the chill seeping from his bones just by looking at it.

Marinette opens the door for him. Her hair is tied up in a single ponytail instead of pigtails, and she’s dressed in a beige turtleneck paired with leggings and pink slippers.

The slippers, he’s now used to. The Dupain-Chengs didn’t have many things they were nitpicky about, but apparently wearing slippers around the house is one of them.

“Merry Christmas,” Marinette grins, leaning upwards to press a kiss against his cheek. “My parents are just finishing up dinner, so we can wait for a little while until everything is done cooking. I’m so glad you could make it.”

He smiles back. “Me too. Are you sure your parents don’t need help in the kitchen…?”

Marinette waves her hands. “I’m going to say they’re good on their own, especially because—” she raises her voice and turns to the kitchen, “THEY JUST KICKED ME OUT SAYING I WASN’T NEEDED.”

Sabine laughs in response. “Darling, just relax! Your father and I have it handled.”

Marinette sticks out her tongue at the kitchen, looking unfairly adorable, before turning back to Adrien. “Um, in case you want to stay over for tonight as well we have an extra futon that you can use. My parents wanted you to stay and open gifts, at least.”

Adrien perks up at the mention of gifts, remembering his own mission. He holds out his left hand, previously hidden behind his back, and extends the small gift bag to Marinette. “Merry Christmas. I wasn’t… well, I’m not the best at gifts, so I hope you like it.”

“It could be Plagg’s rotten cheese and I’d like it if it were from you,” she whispers.

“That’s absolutely uncalled for,” Plagg’s voice hisses as he pokes his head out of Adrien’s collar. “I wouldn’t share my cheese anyway, so…”

Marinette rolls her eyes at his kwami. She and Plagg have an interesting relationship, to say the least. “Tikki has a present for you as well, you little gremlin, but your behaviour determines whether or not you receive it.”

Plagg blows a raspberry at her before hiding back into Adrien’s collar, and he shoots Marinette a sheepish glance. “You can open your present now,” he tells her. “I want to see your reaction.”

As skeptical as he is about the gift, it’s the truth that he’s excited—after spending five hours at the mall as Chat Noir, he had taken a bit of pride in what he had gotten. Marinette takes the bag from his fingertips.

It’s dainty and pretty, decorated as the marketed Christmas special. “Even the bag looks expensive,” Marinette jokes weakly.

Adrien honestly has no clue how much it had all cost. He’d taken money out from the bank beforehand so it couldn’t be traced back to his identity and told Nathalie that he wanted to buy himself a watch. She’d barely questioned it.

Marinette tugs out the small box in the bag. She glances at Adrien with wide eyes. “Is this…”

“Open it,” he prompts, unable to stop the grin from sneaking onto his face.

She does so, peering at the necklace nestled inside. From where she’s standing and the downturned position of her face, Adrien can’t see her expression. But she doesn’t look up at him, only continues staring at the gift, and he’s hit with another wave of self-doubt. Had he really inherited his father’s bad taste for gifts?

“Um, Marinette? It’s okay if you don’t like it because honestly I didn’t really know what I was going for—”

She looks up at him. All the words stick to the back of his throat when he realizes her eyes watery.

Marinette’s crying. Had he made her cry? Was the gift that bad? Panic seeps into him like ice water in his veins.

“Uh,” Adrien manages out, though his brain is short-circuiting. “I’m—is it that bad? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I’m not great with presents and I can get you something else and—”

“No,” Marinette interrupts. “You idiot. This is… this is amazing. How did you even…”

Oh. Oh.

“You like it,” Adrien interprets correctly at last. “Oh.”

“Like it?” Marinette echoes incredulously. “Adrien, this is gorgeous and I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I love it so much, seriously.” Gingerly, she lifts the necklace out of the box. On it dangles two charms: a neon green cat’s paw and a ladybug, both embedded with small gems that glitter an assortment of colours in the light—even the colours they are not. Adrien had gotten it customized at the most popular jewelry store he’d spotted at the mall. The girl working at the front had been skeptical (or maybe overwhelmed), but in the end she’d taken the offer. Adrien thinks dressing up in costume probably had something to do with it.

“Do you want to put it on…?” he asks, slightly hesitantly.

Marinette’s entire face light’s up. “Yes, please,” she grins, lifting the chain out to hand to him.

Carefully, Adrien brushes aside stray strands of hair. His fingers shake a little around the clasp, but after a few fumbles he manages to clip it together.

“There,” Adrien breathes, as Marinette turns around and lifts the charms on the tips of her fingers. Her mouth forms an O. “It’s so pretty. Did you… wait, did you get this customized?”

He smiles sheepishly. “Maybe.”

She leans up on her tiptoes and presses another kiss against the cheek. “Tell me it wasn’t that expensive.”

Adrien has no idea what constitutes as expensive, so he says, “Not really.”

Marinette sighs. “Alright. Please don’t feel obliged to get me big gifts. I didn’t—um, well, I didn’t get something nearly as intricate but I did make you something and I think—well, I hope—you’ll like it.”

He’s pretty sure his heart swells at that, but he keeps his cool. “I’m excited to see what you’ve got,” Adrien tells her, and Marinette takes his hand and tugs him towards the couches. “Like you said—you could’ve gotten me a slice of Plagg’s half-eaten camembert and I’d still be happy.”

“Shut up,” Plagg hisses from inside his shirt.

Marinette plops down on the couch with a laugh. “Thankfully, it’s a little better than that. But still, Adrien—nothing too fancy in the future, okay?”

“Marinette!” Sabine’s voice comes from the kitchen. “We’re almost finished, so set the table, please!”

Adrien glances at the kitchen, then leans in to whisper, “Is this a bad time to mention I bought your parents that new stove you said your mom wanted? It’s arriving via shipping tomorrow afternoon.”

Marinette lets out a noise of disbelief and mock exasperation in the back of her throat. “What are we going to do with you?” she asks. “C’mon, pretty boy, let’s go set the table and we’ll figure it out later.”

Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist! 

[hikari-writes]

『Haikyuu!!』

Fluff Oneshot

Winter Wonderland Collab

❝ A Very Special Christmas Eve ❞

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime

Warning: None, just some fluff, and mention of one death, and iwa being the husband material he is

Genre: F L O O F

Words: 2.6k

Notes:

- F!Reader

A/N: heres my piece for the winter wonderland collab!! Hope yall enjoy this one!!

Winter Wonderland Masterlist

Your legs swing from side to side as you snuggle closer to the pillow in your arms. The black screened TV stares back at your bored eyes lifelessly, as if expecting you to turn it on. You heave another heavy sigh when you receive a text notification from Hajime. You open the message and a wry smile naturally comes to your lip when you see your husband’s messages.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…. I dont think i can make it to movie night tonight,,, I still have so many work to do at the office”

You correct your position on the couch before facing your phone again and replying to Hajime’s messages. 

“It’s okay hub :) dont work too hard now <3”

You close your phone and go back to staring around your empty living room. How many times has this been already, you thought to yourself. 

Ever since Hajime got promoted at his workplace, he has been busier than ever. Of course you're happy for him and you appreciate him doing so much to provide for you both but you can't help but to feel lonely sometimes.

Before his promotion, it's already been a tradition for the two of you to have a movie night together so you can relax and spend some quality time as a married couple.

Even still, he does a lot of things to make it up to you, like making you breakfast early in the morning before you wake up, kissing your forehead and cheeks whenever he gets home after work and a lot more. Just to show his affection and love for you even though he's constantly busy and swamped with works.

You check your phone again to see a new message from Hajime. He tells you that you can go to sleep first, since he'll probably be back at a later time. As you type out your reply for him, you can't help but notice the date shown on top of your phone screen.

It's nearing Christmas. Precisely one week from today. You think back on the memories you shared with Hajime from your previous years of spending Christmas Eve with him. 

Those moments are your favourite memories with Hajime of them all. It feels so nice to enjoy a meaningful holiday together with someone you love. Your smile fades as you remember back on how busy Hajime has been.

“Maybe we can't celebrate Christmas Eve together this year….”

You can't help but to feel a little bit disappointed at that realization, but you tried to stay positive...for Hajime's sake. You don't want to burden him by asking him to leave his work early just because you wanted to spend some more time with him. 

“What?? You don't think Iwa-ch--- I mean, Hajime-kun can be home for Christmas Eve because he'd be busy with his work??”

You silently sip your bubble tea as you stare at Oikawa's shocked face through the screen of your computer. After fiddling with the straw a bit, you nod your head at his question. 

“Y/N-chan, that's ridiculous! No matter how busy he may be, he can't possibly miss spending an important holiday like that with you.”

“I don't know, Oikawa….He's been busy these past few days. And I honestly won't be surprised if he's going to be busy again until Christmas Eve.”

You let out a heavy sigh and Oikawa gives a look of sympathy at you. 

You slump back into your chair and take another sip of your drink until there's nothing left in the cup, filling the empty silence between you two. There is a faint sound of people talking in a foreign language from Oikawa's side of the screen.

“I'm not trying to be ungrateful or anything since I know he's working hard for the both of us but….”

You bring your knees from under the table and hug it closer to your face, covering your entire face. 

“I just...I don't know if I can handle being alone for Christmas Eve without Hajime.”

You mumble those words through your hidden face, not really caring if Oikawa heard that or not but from the way his soft voice calls out your name, you assume he did. 

You hide your pained face in your knees for a lot longer, not noticing the clicking sound coming from behind you. Not until you hear Oikawa calling out your husband's name in a panic do you finally lift your head from the safe spot of your knees.

You stare at Hajime who's still in his suit. He came back rather early today. 

Hajime furrows his eyebrows at Oikawa when seeing how you were just hiding your face in your knees a few moments ago. 

“Hey, Shittykawa. You weren't trying to make Y/N cry were you?”

The sharp tone of his voice sends a chill down Oikawa's spine and he quickly laughs it off with a smile.

“Hajime-kun, that's mean!! I would never do that to my best friend's wife!”

Hajime puts a hand around your shoulder and lowers his face a bit to match the level of your computer screen before continuing to bicker again with Oikawa. 

The scene seems nostalgic to you, bringing your memories again to the times you were in high school. You can't help but to smile softly at them, enjoying their bickering a bit more before deciding that it's getting late and you and Hajime best return to bed by now.

After you close your computer, you turn to Hajime and he immediately plants a kiss on top of your forehead as he always does whenever he comes back. 

“You're home early today.”

You comment while wrapping your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest and taking in the soft beating of his heartbeats.

“Yeah, I finished my work early today.”

He heaves a weary sigh as he replies to you, and you plant another kiss on the bridge of his nose before grinning. 

“Well, I'm glad I could snuggle with you tonight while we're sleeping then.”

You both share a kiss before going off to do your night routine. 

After you're done with your night routines, you climb onto your bed and snuggle into your soft pillow before pulling out your phone to kill some time while waiting for Hajime to finish his shower. 

When you feel a big hand being placed on top of your shoulder, you close your phone and turn back to face Hajime with a soft smile. 

“So what were you talking with Oikawa about?”

Hajime starts as the both of you get under the duvet. 

“Just catching up and asking him how he's been. He seems to be pretty happy there. Oh, and, it seems that he's still having a hard time trying to not call you Iwa-chan.”

You giggle a bit when remembering back how Oikawa kept referring to Hajime as Iwa-chan like he used to in high school while the both of you were in a video call just now. Now that you're also an “Iwaizumi”, he can't really use the nickname “Iwa-chan” for Hajime anymore. 

Hajime hums a bit before nodding.

“Can't say I'm surprised there.”

He pulls you into a hug and you close the distance between you two by snuggling into his chest. You could smell the fresh scent of the body soap he used. It was calming and very like him. 

“Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

The sudden question almost makes you flinch in his arms. You can’t afford to let him know now but you can’t bring yourself to cover it up and lie to him either. Especially because of how sharp and attentive he can be towards you. 

“Yeah… a bit. I was just wondering about that coworker I told you about before.”

Hajime looks down at you and seems thoughtful for a moment.

“You’re still worried about how she would cope with her husband’s death?”

You nod in his chest and tighten your arms around his sturdy build.

Technically, it’s not a lie. You were extremely concerned and worried about your coworker who recently just lost her husband. You can’t help but think, if you were in her place, how would you handle it.

“Losing someone as important as your partner is certainly something that’s hard to cope with. But, knowing that now they’re in a better place up there, watching over you and wanting you to go through life, full of smiles...I think that just makes you feel a lot better. You might not be able to be together now, but one day, you will reunite and you’ll have an eternal span of time to be together.”

You look up at Hajime who’s stroking your hair softly. You didn’t expect him to say all that. Those words just made your heart clench more and you pull on his shirt to lower his face and give him a kiss on his lips. 

“Hajime you’re more destructive than I originally thought....”

You bury your face in his chest again, hiding your steaming face and leaving your husband confused.

Days passed and it’s finally Christmas Eve. Many people are in the shopping district, buying the necessities for their home decor and ingredients for cooking. As always, you had bought everything beforehand so as to avoid the gathering crowd.

It’s nearing evening and you can see many young couples around, sitting together and gazing at the decorations in the shopping district. You can’t help but to look at them with nostalgia. It reminded you so much of your younger days with Hajime.

You shake the thought from your head and continue walking away. You chose to take a detour after you’re done with work today, just so you could take a look at the busy shopping district. Since it’s Christmas Eve today, you thought that you’ll start decorating your house when you get back home.

“Hajime’s probably gonna be busy today and tomorrow too so I can take my time a bit,” you mumble to yourself and continue making your way through the district.

Moments after you said that, you received a text message from Hajime that weighs upon your heart like a heavy rock.

”Babe, I’m so sorry I can’t make it home before 12…. Seems like we’ll miss spending time together for this year’s Christmas Eve. Im so sorry again, i know how much you’ve been looking forward to Christmas Eve every year but the work just keep on piling up. And for Christmas tomorrow too...I’m so sorry.”

You thought that maybe if he can’t make it for Christmas Eve, you would have had time to spend on Christmas the next day. You have to accept the fact that this year, there’s just no other way other than to spend it alone and being wrapped up in your blanket. You honestly much prefer Hajime’s strong arms to wrap you up, though.

Christmas Eve is considered to be one of the most popular days to celebrate as a couple and you truly enjoyed spending it with Hajime every year. That’s why you value the celebration so much and you honestly don’t want to celebrate it with anyone else other than him.

Although your main concern right now is more towards the fact that he’s been working too much lately. You’re definitely worried about his health more than anything right now.

“It’s really okay bb! Im grown up now and i know we cant celebrate Christmas eve together every year :) Im just worried that youve been working too much and havent had much rest lately :(( make sure to take care of yourself u hear me ??!”

You see him replying with a promise that he will, and that somehow put you at ease. You tell him you'll reach home soon and send a last 'I love you' message before turning off your phone and picking up your pace.

“I’m home….”

You open the lock and step inside the empty and dark house. 

But something feels wrong.

At the center of the living room, you can make out several colourful light bulbs hanging from a Christmas tree.

“Huh….that’s weird. I didn’t remember putting anything there….”

In fact, you haven't even started decorating yet. It makes you wonder if you have decorated the living room while you were asleep.

“But I'm pretty sure it was empty around here before I left for work….”

You look around your house once more and sure enough, it's filled to the brim with Christmas decoration. Your heart flutters at the sight, completely disregarding the odd fact that the house has already been decorated even though you don't remember doing so.

All of a sudden, you feel a pair of strong arms around your waist, pulling you closer before all the lights in the house are turned on. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

The soft voice of Hajime coming from behind startled you a bit, but that doesn't stop the tears that're welling up in your eyes.

“Hajime?! But-- I thought that--”

When you feel his grip around you loosens, you turn around to face him, not really realizing the tears that are threatening to fall down your eyes.

“Surprise?”

He says with a shrug and a grin before embracing you once again. You bury your face in his chest and before you know it, you're already starting to let the tears and a few hiccups out.

Hearing you crying, Hajime quickly releases you with his eyes wide, inspecting your face while you try to hide it in your hands.

“Y/N, what's wrong?”

You can hear his panicked voice calling for you and your hiccups slowly turn into a soft laughter.

“S-sorry...it's just, I really wasn't expecting this and…..All this time I've just felt so lonely thinking that you won't be able to spend Christmas with me but… but this surprise really caught me off guard and my tears just started...”

You try to explain through your tear stained face with a smile. Hearing that explanation, Hajime releases a relieved sigh and cups your cheek in his hands before moving it closer to plant a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Sorry I made you feel that way, honey.”

You shake your head and give him another kiss on the lips. You both stare at each other for a moment before letting out a soft giggle. 

As he leads you to the dining room, he explains to you how he's been busy working overnight the days before so that he can get an early leave for Christmas Eve. He wants to make a surprise Christmas celebration with you so he took it upon himself to decorate and cook all the food before you came back home from work. 

“Hajime, I really appreciate you doing this for me….”

You stroke his face and bring it closer but all of a sudden you flick your fingers to his forehead, thankfully not too hard so your fingers aren't too damaged from the hit. 

“But what did I tell you about working too hard, hmmm?? You better be getting enough rest after this or else!”

Your husband just looks at you with a deadpan expression before heaving a small sigh. 

“It's okay, I don't have to go to work tomorrow so I plan to rest anyway.”

He sneaks in another kiss, completely catching you off guard and almost making you forgive him right away if not thanks to your strong wife's willpower.

“Oh but...tomorrow's Christmas so….”

You look at him again and a smile automatically graces your lips in a matter of seconds. 

“We get to spend the whole day together on Christmas then.”

You hum those words out, and skip your way into the dining room with a smiling Hajime following closely behind you. 

“Yeah, I'm looking forward to it.”

That night, the Iwaizumi household is filled with laughter as they dine and chat together, spending their time and valuing each other's company as a happy married couple.

The End

Gen. Taglist: @vventiis @laylahoran @whootwhoot @mirakeul @kiyorei @instantmiya-main @ourvisty @tamaguchi @cadenceh2o @hidehaskak @yamagucji @ynainnit @tsukisemi @that-chick212 @bakuhoetoedoroki @alysken [Join my taglist here!]

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[eleanorbloom]

Love  Actually Is... (Bryce x MC)

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom)

Word Count: 5k  

Warnings: Fluff and some curse words. Rated T.

Summary: Eleanor is feeling down and Bryce has a very particular way to cheer her up.

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @choicesficwriterscreations  @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268  @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @bratzlahela @freckles-spangledvampire   @mercury84choices  @curiousconch @openheartfanfics

_________

“

4 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS.

“Bryce, love, what are you doing?” I shouted from the couch in the living room toward our room. My voice was husky and nasal because I had been crying for the past hour, and I was drying my puffy and reddened eyes for the umpteenth time that evening.  I was frustrated, sad, and angry, but I was doing my best to move on, “We have to decide what are we gonna do on Christmas Eve. I’ll go to the grocery store tomorrow.”

No response. For a moment I thought he was in the bathroom, or sleeping, but then I heard some rummaging in the room, so I knew for sure he should’ve heard me.

"Goldie, what are you up to?" I insisted as Bryce didn't respond to me nor approached the living room in the next minute. I was about to get up from my seat when I saw him coming out of our bedroom with a smirk on his face and some strange clothes on. He was wearing a white buttoned shirt and black cotton pants, very different from the dark jeans and green Henley he was wearing ten minutes ago.

I frowned.

“Love, why are you wearing that? You have a wedding I wasn’t aware of?” I asked, watching him come to the living room.

“Wait and see.” He simply replied as he was scrolling through his phone, and then walked to the big windows of the living room.

Outside there was the reason for my disappointment, of my anger. It was dark, stormy, and really, really cold. The glass of the window was completely frosted, so the streetlights barely could percolate through the thick layer of snow in the glass.

One more click and a few notes started playing in the home sound system. Bryce, giving me his back, started swaying his hips.

I knew those notes. My mind was racing, trying to decipher where I had listened to them. “Is this…?”

Your eyes tell me how you want me

“Oh my god.”

I can feel it in your heart beat

Then Bryce took slow steps backward and turned her face to wink at me, all seductive and teasing while he was singing along with The Pointer Sisters. Then he pointed a finger to me while his hips started rocking toward my way.  

I started laughing instantly, of course. The way he was looking at me and how smooth his movements were would never stop to amaze me. But it was also a mix of fun and tenderness, because he was acting like a character from my favorite Christmas movie, Love Actually, only to cheer me up, so even if I was laughing my ass off, I was pretty emotional too.

He kept moving and singing until he reached the center of the living room, and then changed his steps. Now he was moving to the sides with open arms and legs, moving his head to the beat. The whole step was hilarious, but he was doing it even funnier with his confident smirk and his expert motions, exceeding the very well presentation Hugh Grant did in the movie. It was like he was born to do that scene.

“I’ll take you down, I’ll take you doooown, where no one’s ever gone before”

“Love, oh my god!” I said wiping the tears off my eyes, as was crying again, but this time for a very pleasant reason.

We were so immersed in the dance that none of us heard the sound of keys in the lock, and the door cracking open. Just when the door slammed shut, we realized Keiki was there, staring at Bryce with a puzzled look and biting her lips to not burst out of laugh.

“What the hell are you doing, weirdo?”

“Jump in and feel my touch! Jum if you want to taste my kisses!” He said dancing towards her, rocking his hips teasingly, and Keiki gave him a horrified look as he saw him dancing around her. “Hi Keiks, welcome home.”

“No! I’m leaving! I should’ve never come back! Nikka, take me with youuu!!" She screamed as she pretended she was asking her best friend to rescue her.

Then she turned to me, as I was cackling louder than ever, “Ella, are you okay with this?” she asked me with a mix of disappointment and amusement, taking a seat beside me.

“Keiki, it’s hilarious.”

“Jump! You want to taste my kisses in the night then”—Suddenly Bryce jumped to the empty space beside me and started dancing over, moving his butt over me. “Jump, jump for my love!”

“Eeewww Bryce!” Keiki squealed, covering her eyes with both hands. “Honestly, I don’t know how you can live with this weirdo, share a bed with this clown, Ella.” Her cheeks were flushed, partly because of the embarrassment but mostly because she was trying so hard not to laugh.

“Well, I mean, you live with him too, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but you consciously chose him. And I bet you already knew how ridiculous he was before agreeing to be his girlfriend. I literally had no choice.”

Bryce jumped to the floor again and then squeezed to sit in the middle of me and Keiki.

“Oh, come on little sistah, don't be such spoilsport," He said “Are you thirsty? Can I offer you a glass of wotah? Or maybe a cup of tea?”

“Oh my god, Ella what the hell did you give him? Did he smoke anything?”

“Dear lord! Where are your modals, Keiki? Your Governess would be ashamed of how rude you are behaving with your beloved older brother.”

“Okay, I’m going to my room now.”She said as she was trying to stand up from the couch but Bryce stopped her.

“But darling, tell me first how was your day? The mall was too crowded?”

“A living hell, but now I realize it was better than this hell.”

“Oh, and what will be my Christmas present? Did you found that lovely china cups I’ve been dreaming about so much these past months?”

“Will you ever stop talking like you’re auditioning for Downton Abbey. Ella, please talk some sense into him.” She looked at me, pleading, and I couldn’t help but tease her even more.

"Keiki, darling, wot is wrong with ya? Why are you speaking this strange accent? One way to the shopping mall and you’re all American? The Queen would be ashamed of you!”

“I can’t believe this, you of all people, Eleanor?” She was disappointed, but I could tell she was enjoying the whole exchange.

“Stop complaining, you stupid sandwich!” Bryce shouted in his best Gordon Ramsay personification. “It’s almost Christmas, laugh a little, child!”  

“Sandwich? Did I hear Sandwich?” I asked with a mischievous smirk on my face.

That was our intern joke. Whenever or wherever we would say the word sandwich…

“Noooooo, sandwich nooooo, dam….n…”

We would sandwich the last person to react. So Bryce and I wrapped Keiki into a tight hug, sandwiching her.

"SANDWICH!" We squealed happily.

“Please, help me, god." She pleaded, feigning annoyance. “I can’t believe you are 29 and behave like 10 years old kids. Worse, like you were 5!"

“Don’t play the dumb, Keiks, you like being sandwiched.” Bryce defied. After a moment, she surrendered and gave him broad smile.

"Only because I have no other option but to accept your weird ways of showing love."

"We have more adult ways, but you don't like them either." I added, then Bryce and I squeezed her a bit more, to finally release her from our grip, "Aaaand you’re free”

“Thank god” She sighed loudly. “Why all this fuss, though? You two were watching Love Actually again? Or is this your normal mode before Christmas?”

“No, I was just trying to cheer Elle on.”

“Why? What happened?”

“They canceled the flights due to the snowstorm for the next two days so… we’re not going to Chile.”

“Oh, no.” She whispered. I could see the disappointment in her eyes. We have been waiting for this trip for weeks, maybe even months. “I’m so sorry, Ella.  I know this was important to you. I was really looking forward to traveling to Chile too.”

“I know... That’s what has me so sad and angry…” I shook my head, trying to shake off the bad emotions. “So, well, you know your brother, he likes to ridicule himself to make me laugh, so he was doing just that.”

“Ridicule myself, excuse me? That’s was a terrific presentation, it was divine! The Queen would be so pleased! So would Hugh Grant!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro.” She rolled her eyes “So, what are we gonna do?”

“Well, have Christmas Eve dinner here and maybe join our friends on Christmas Day? If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” She smiled. “Whatever helps me not spend the whole day with you two, weirdos”

I chucked.

“Excellent, I let them know we’ll joining them on Friday”

After we discussed the menu and we came up with a complete grocery store list, Keiki finally stood up from the couch. “Well, now that we are ready with that, I’m gonna laid down a bit. You two are exhausting, you know that? I only hope you’re not this impossible on Christmas Eve.”

Bryce and I watched Keiki walking to her room with two bags in hand at a light pace.

“That was Keiki or is Ethan ventriloquizing Keiks somewhere?” Bryce asked once his sister got into her room.

“She’s a teenager, love. I bet you were that grinch too.”

“Well, yeah, but not that grinch.”

“Maybe she’s right and we really are impossible.”

“Yeah, but she cannot know.” We both laughed. “Let's behave until New Year's Day."

“Deal.”

 2 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS.

As I wasn’t going to be out of town for the next days before Christmas, I went to work so I could have those free days in the future.

I was checking on a patient when my pager went off. “MEETING IN 10 MINUTES.”

After updating the chart and checking one more patient, I walked toward the Diagnostic Team Office. When I entered, ready to sit in my usual spot between Ethan and Baz, I was surprised as I found Baz sitting in my spot and Ethan on Baz's. The rest of the spots were full of papers, so the only option was sitting in Ethan's spot, next to the whiteboard and facing the glass wall.

"Have a seat, Eleanor," Ethan said as he noticed my worry.

“Ooookay. So, what’s the matter?”

“Cleveland Clinic called to report a new symptom, and I think this might be our cue to provide some alternatives to their Diagnostic Team.”

“Oh, okay.”

Ethan was explaining the new symptoms when something behind the glass walls caught my attention. Two blinds were partially closed while the other two were opened, revealing everything outside the hallway.

A figure in a red turtleneck sweater with a snowman in the middle, a red Santa hat, and something white on his arms.

Then I realized it was Bryce and what he was grabbing with his arms were big white cards.

When he realized I recognized him, he winked at me, giving me his usual dashing smile.

Ethan kept talking, ignoring that I was kind of unfocused. I couldn’t help but give glances to the wall behind him, wondering what was happening out there.

Then Bryce put the cards in position.

“PRETEND IT’S A BEE”

My eyes widened but I tried to dissimulate. Ethan kept talking.

“I KNOW YOU’RE STILL DOWN”

I smiled sadly.

“I GUESS MY SEXY DANCING WASN’T ENOUGH”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, so Ethan noticed and looked at me confused. Then he looked where I was looking, so Baz did.

"For the love of God," Ethan said pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Please ignore him.”

Bryce continued.

“SO HERE I AM, TRYING AGAIN”

I shook my head and bit my lower lip, resisting the laugh.

“I KNOW WE’RE AT WORK, BUT LET ME SAY”

“WITHOUT HOPE OR AGENDA”

“JUST BECAUSE IT’S CHRISTMAS”

“AND IN CHRISTMAS YOU TELL THE TRUTH”

“TO ME, YOU’RE PERFECT”

“Awww” I heard Baz squeal. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“AND MY WASTED HEART WILL LOVE YOU”

“UNTIL YOU LOOK LIKE THIS”

And in the next card, there was a photo of me, sleeping, with my open mouth and all, completely oblivious that someone was taking me a picture.

Baz laughed again and even Ethan chuckled.

"Oh my god," I covered my face with both hands in embarrassment.

“SORRY, THAT WAS LAST NIGHT.”

“Son of a…”

“BUT I DO LOVE YOU EVEN IF YOU LOOK LIKE THAT”

“OR LIKE THIS”

This time it was a photo of me, sick, about three months ago. The three in the office laughed. Even Ethan was enjoying the spectacle.

“AND I WILL LOVE YOU UNTIL YOU LOOK LIKE THIS”

“(I SWEAR THIS TIME IS TRUE)”

And there was a picture of ashes.

“OR MAYBE UNTIL YOU LOOK LIKE THIS”

There was a picture of a koala.

“WHETHER YOU BECOME ASHES OR REENCARNATE IN A KOALA”

“OR IF YOU LIVE SEVEN OR TEN LIFES”

“I’LL FIND MY WAY TO YOU”

“AND I’LL KEEP LOVING YOU AND CHEERING YOU UP ALL YOUR LIVES.”

“MERRY CHRISTMAS KOALITA.”

“YOUR GOLDIE THAT LOVES YOU VERY MUCH.”

By then there were tears all over my face. I was sobbing. Without thinking too much, I stood up from my chair and ran outside where he was leaning the cards against the wall.

“Hmpf!” He said when I crushed against him. I pressed my face to his chest and sobbed. He stroked my hair softly. “Hey… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you cry” He muttered softly. I shook my head. “I wanted to cheer you on, baby koala”

A few seconds later, I parted from him. His sweater was stained with my tears, and my face was a complete mess. “It’s fine, it’s just… I thought you wouldn't notice. I didn't want you to notice."

“Love, of course I’d notice, and I’d feel horrible if I didn’t, honestly. It’s okay if you’re still angry and sad. You can rant with me, you know that, right?”

“I know, it’s just that… I didn’t want to bore you with my emotional mess. I know this is something out of my hands and I should just accept it… but I’d been months waiting for this.”

“I know baby, I’d been too, and I’m really sorry we couldn’t make it, but you don’t have to pretend, not with me. If you’re feeling sad, I wanna be there for you, alright?”

“Okay, love. You’re right. It’s just… Ahhh!” I grunted in frustration and I buried my face deeper in his chest for a moment “I really want you to meet my abuela. And my tata. And cousins and… Just everyone. And I want them to meet you.”

“We’ll make it, gorgeous. We’ll find the perfect time to travel, I promise. In the meantime, I'll try to cheer you on while you're sad, okay?”

I nodded and he kissed me on my forehead.

"Thank you, my love."

Just then, Baz went out of the office.

“You know I’m team Zines” He stated, and then shook his head “But you two make it really difficult to maintain my position."

I chuckled.

“It’s your brother after all, I get it.”

"Just know that you're in second place in my hashtag relationship goals." I nodded. “And you, mate” He added, looking directly at Bryce “I don't know why you're still alive. With those pictures...”

I gave a stony glare to Bryce.

“Oh, yeah, don’t think I’ve forgotten, Bryce Lahela! When we get home…!”

“Ooof, I better go," Baz announced.

“But the meeting?”

Baz snorted and kept walking. I turned around and Ethan was leaned against the window looking at us, serious. “I thought you couldn’t be cheesier, Lahela, but here you are, always proving me wrong.”

"And I pretend to keep proving you wrong,"

Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Wait… Ethan, you knew about this?”

“Obviously. Do you think this jackass would dare to interrupt me? In a meeting?”

“Well, yeah?”

“Eleanor Andrea Bloom how dare you!” Bryce scowled at me.

“You should know better than me that he’s wiser than it seems, Eleanor.”

“Well… actually yes, it makes sense, but I also know that you would never agree to this.”

“Maybe I was feeling generous just because it’s Christmas.”

"Thanks, buddy, I owe you one."

“By this time, like a hundred. And I'm not your buddy. How many times do I have to tell you?"

“Thank you, Ethan, really.”

“Don’t thank me. Just don’t ask me something like this never again.”

And he started walking toward the elevator, leaving us alone in the hallway.

Bryce took the cards and we went inside the office.

"Now… explain to me when the fucking hell did you take that photo?"

“Ooooof Keiki is waiting for me at home, gotta go, babe…”

I took his wrist. “Bryce. Explain. Now.”

"I always take random pics of you, I thought you knew. Reading, sleeping, cooking… At work… This one… I might have taken it like two months ago? When you had 24 hours shift and a bear could've fallen over you and you wouldn't have felt it."

I giggled. “I can’t even be mad at you for embarrass me in front of my colleagues.”

“I know, my charms are irresistible, mad-proof.”

“Don’t tempt fate, darling.”

“Is that a threat?”

Bryce leaned towards me, just a breath away. His warm breath, smoky with coffee and sweet with cream and sugar made me thirsty. I really wanted to resist, but it was hard. Besides, what was the point? I wasn't even mad at him. If all, just melted. Of course, he knew that, he knew he could advantage of that, like he knew I would forgive him for such embarrassment just because he was cute and handsome. I mean, I don't even have to explain to you what effect he has on me, you have seen him in action a couple of times by now. So I just gulped as I was looking into his lips quirking in a smug smile, trying so hard to resist…  

“Maybe not now but-” I try to retort but he silenced me with a kiss. I could’ve moved my face, push him away… But I’m weak around him. He knows it perfectly well.

“You talk too much, babe.”

“How da…”? He silenced me again with another kiss. Marvelous and breathtaking. He smiled against my lips.

I can’t resist him. I’m weak. I can be strong for a lot of things, I can set my mind for a lot of things, but when it comes to him… I’m so weak. But at that moment it felt so right to give in. Because the whole surprise and the way he was there to soothe me really helped me heighten my spirits, he helped me accept that I couldn't travel but everything would be alright because he was with me, and he would be right by my side in case things turn dark again.

 CHRISTMAS DAY.

Despite the sadness that we were feeling, especially me, for not being able to travel to Chile, we had a great dinner, and we behave like adults for Keiki’s sake.

And the dinner was especially delicious because it was made by the three of us. Sometimes it’s concerted, sometimes it’s improvised, but when the three of us are in the kitchen, the meal is always more gratifying. For the collaborative work and for the bond. For the memories. Cooking together will always remember us of the night Keiki came into our lives. The night I met her and the night Bryce saw her again after ten years. So every time we do it, it reminds us of how far we have come.

How far Bryce and Keiki have come after struggling for his ten-year absence for months after she came back into his life.

How far Keiki and me we have come after she finally accepted me in her life, because she came to Boston to have his brother back, and instead, and she won a new sister too, even if at some point it didn’t seem like she was happy with that.

How far we have come Bryce and me, as partners, as roommates.

How far we have come the three of us as a family.

It makes us proud of ourselves and the way we congratulate each other is by sharing something we as a family prepared.

When I woke up that morning, Bryce was already up, making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas babe," He said, kissing me on the lips, before slicing a berries pie I had bought for Christmas morning.

“Feliz Navidad, amor," I said giving him a mischievous smirk. He loves when I speak in Spanish, if you know what I mean.

Just then, Keiki appeared in the living room.

"Merry Christmas! Can we open our presents now?"

“Oooh, looks who woke up with lots of energy and cheerfulness!”

“Don’t ruin it, Bryce!” I said, nudging his shoulder.

"Thank you, Ella."

I sprinted towards her and hugged her. "Merry Christmas, Keiks!”

“SANDWICH!” I heard from the kitchen.

“Sandwich!” Keiki shouted instantly, and the next thing I knew is that Bryce was hugging me from behind. It was my turn to be sandwiched by the Lahela siblings. “Why I feel like I’m being sandwiched even if I’m supposed to be the bread? You’re so invasive, Bryce.”

After a few seconds, they let me go, so we all approached the Christmas tree and started distributing the presents. First, we gave Keiki her presents, then Bryce’s, and then it was my turn to receive presents.

We normally give hints the month before of what things we need or want and this time I honestly didn’t want too much. Just a new gloves for the cold (which Keiki gave me), maybe some new book and a supersonic hairdryer. I had been hallucinating with it for the past month because the reviews say that it cuts the hair drying time in more than half, so it was really looking forward to having five minutes more of sleep each morning because now it wouldn't take me that much dry my hair. Plus, it leaves the hair shinier than normal hairdryers.

I talked about it three or four times the past weeks, and Bryce catches everything. Sometimes there are times when Bryce notices first than me when I’m pissed off about something, so it was impossible that he wouldn’t know what I wanted for Christmas.

And what I received as a Christmas present instead? A box full of pens and sticky notes and cute notebooks.

"Oh, this is cute," I said, trying to hide my disappointment. "Oh, and it has a puppy! A goldie like you!”

“Yeah, that’s why I picked that one, I know you would love it," Bryce said, smirking at me.

“Thank you, this is very useful!”

Then we went to have breakfast on the kitchen island. After a few minutes, the disappointment dispersed but still. Pens, sticky notes, and notebooks. What the fuck? That would’ve fitted Keiki better than me. A teenager me, maybe even a Med School student me, but not an in-half-a-year-I’ll-be-attending me! I couldn’t believe it.

When we were done, I got up to put the dishes in the dishwasher, but Keiki stopped me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do this.” She said, grabbing the mugs before I could reach them.

“Let’s have some sleep before we go to see the guys, babe” Bryce took my hand and led me to our room.

I sat in the bed and when I leaned to place my head on the pillow, I felt something hard under it.

I furrowed. Bryce was staring at me, biting his lip. I moved the pillow and I found a box wrapped in snowy gift paper with a red ribbon. When I opened it… there it was, the freaking supersonic hairdryer.

“Oh my god! This is… This is what I wanted!”

"I know," He said, smiling.

“You did it on purpose?”

I heard a laugh at the entry of the room where Keiki was walking towards us with her phone on hand, recording.

“I bet Joni Mitchell was playing in your head the whole breakfast, am I right? I’ve looked at clouds from both sides nooooow”

“You…”

At that moment it hit me.

"Okay, so now I'm the crying wife? You made the fool of me as Harry did with Karen?" I said throwing the pillow at him. “And you helped him, Keiki!”

"Hey, in my defense, it was a joke, I didn't buy this hair dryer for my secretary or something."

“Oh, so I should thank you that you’re not cheating on me? You made my breakfast bitter! Sticky notes! What the hell!”

By this time, Keiki was sitting at the edge of the bed, still laughing but looking at me cautiously in case I would throw her another pillow.

“Hey, I had planned to do this in Chile, which means… you would’ve opened the gift at midnight and not until the next morning you would’ve found out what was your real gift.”

I shook my head.

“You really got me.”

“I know. It was painful seeing your disappointment, but totally worth it after seeing your reaction with the real gift.”

“And now we can watch it every night before sleeping if we want” Keiki teased.

I scowled at her, but then I just chuckled as I felt a sentiment of thankfulness and joy invading me. Bryce, and Keiki too, had been doing tons of things to cheer me up the last few days, and even if at that moment I still wished I was here, I felt so complete, because despite all, there we were, laughing, boding, teasing each other, in our natural selves. Just as families do and I was thankful for the family I had. The family I chose.

“Thank you, both of you, for cheering me up these last few days while I was so gloomy and weepy."

“That’s what family is for. They stick with you no matter what.” He kissed my cheek. “And to prank you even when you’re down”

                                              ”

“Oh dear, I can’t stop laughing, he really got you!” Ofelia giggled, wiping a tear off her cheek.

 Eleanor stared at her grandmother by her side and followed suit, releasing a hearted laugh. "Yeah, and I couldn't believe it. I mean, I’m always very grateful for whatever he gives me… But a box of sticky notes, lela? I was so sure he knew what I wanted... But it was all a prank in the end. The last scene of a very Love Actually Christmas."

“You never have a dull time with him, do you?"

"Never. He always finds a way to make a difference, and even on normal days, when we are tired and bored and none of us have the energy for anything else than lie down on the bed… even like that, he somehow makes it feel special."

"Mmmm yes, he does have a way to bring out the best in people and the best in any situation."

"Yup, that's definitely him." Eleanor smiled fondly, watching as Bryce was cheerily speaking with her grandfather at the other side of the table, sharing tips about how to make the perfect barbecue. Bryce didn't know a thing about barbecues, but he was learning the Chilean way.  

They had arrived two days ago in company of Keiki and had planned to spend a couple of days there, getting to know the family and then they would take a tour around the south of the country, especially Chiloé and Torres del Paine for a week or so, and then they would return to her grandparents house for the proper farawell before getting back to Boston.

A few moments later Bryce turned his head and winked at her.

Eleanor couldn't help but smile goofily at him.

"It's so rare what you've found here, dear, and in such short time" Ofelia continued, after noticing the exchange between the couple. Eleanor gave her a puzzled glare "What do you mean?"

"The devotion you two have for each other. Sometimes it takes years, sometimes people get married without having it, but you already have it. And it's so hard to find, Ellie, because you can kiss and sleep with anyone thinking it's love, you can even get married and have kids without even love the other person, or just believing it's love when sometimes is just comfort or an illusion. But you two…" She gave a quick glance to Bryce and then to Eleanor "You don't even have to tell me to know you're in love because the way you look at each other, the way you care about each other speak volumes."

"You really think so, lela?" Her eyes shined with hope.

"I do. The way he cares about you and brings out the best of you, the way you admire him and push him to be a better brother, a better friend, a better partner. That's what love actually is,  making each other better and be happy with the simpler things in life, and you two have it, without a doubt. And you know what? That's the kind of relationship everyone should aspire to have for the rest their lives and you two are lucky to have it.”

Eleanor stared at the resolution with whom her grandmom was speaking and she knew it was all honesty. She felt relieved because there was someone outside her that thought that too. Sometimes she used to think it was too soon, but now was realizing that maybe it was alright. It was all real.

She had known it since she realized she was in love with Bryce, and it became more clear when they moved together, but now the truth was undeniable and more palpable than ever: Bryce was the man she will spend her whole life with.

Bryce was the man she was going to marry.

_____

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone and happy holidays! I hope you all enjoyed the day (or the days) despite the sad circumstances.

Special thanks to Conch @curiousconch for helping me with the initial ideas of this fic, I think without your support and ideas, I don’t think this fic would’ve turned out the way it did without our brainstorming session, so thank you so much!

And thanks to Ruby @starrystarrytrouble​ for encouranging me and sending me motivation to keep writing it despite my blocks and being out of ideas, thank you dear, I hope you enjoyed this!

Thank you all for reading!

I hope you all have an amazing week, and my best wishes to each and every one of you in the year that’s about to start soon.

A big hug!

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 28

Chapter 28: The Letter

Blood smeared the knuckles when they made contact with the thick wood of the thickest tree trunk. The Sorcerer hissed and hollered as he banged his hands furiously against the tree. His entire body shook with rage at the evidence his newest spy brought him. He waited too long. He pulled himself away from the free and covered his face with his hand. Now it was only a matter of time before Kai gave into Cole's seduction. He banged the tree again, then composed himself and pulled the hood of his cloak over his raven hair.

He watched the cut of his hand swell and bubble until perfectly healed skin was revealed.

He waited too long. The second he suspected the teen had Occulti blood he should have acted! His growl morphed into a roar.

"Damn to the depths of my lust and pride!" He bellowed. He had known he had taken a heavy gamble when he decided to change his strategy, but it was too difficult to resist such a tempting specimen, especially since if his seduction proved a success it would devastate the Dragon Lord more than a thousand of the most vicious monsters. Now, his miscalculation had caused him a major setback. It was worse when it became clear exactly who this mysterious specimen was.

It had been easy to ignore the first instance as merely a single occurrence.

It wasn't uncommon for humans to discover untapped abilities in traumatic or near-death situations. Many people held biological connections to magical ancestors. The religions might have changed, but the blood certainly didn't, he himself was proof of that. Still, many lines had become so thinned by mundane human blood any inherited power could only be tapped through stress or shock and usually only once. But the skills used to defeat his monsters and the premonitions were too much to be a coincidence.

That Occulti whore was dead and she continued to be a thorn in his side.

A wicked smile curled across his lips as he approached the road. The raven sat immobile like a statue on his shoulder awaiting instructions. It didn't matter now. She failed then and she will fail now.

"I'm running out of time, and I'll be damned if I let some Occulti whore destroy over one hundred years of patience and hard work!" He thundered and looked to the crow. It shot up and waited for orders. "Watch them, if they do anything together, inform me immediately; I don't have much time to carry out the next stage of my plan." He commanded. The crow bowed its head and flapped away into the night. The Sorcerer's grin widened as he chuckled then burst out laughing when he came to the main road.

He turned around taking one last look at the castle in the distance.

"Enjoy your concubine while it lasts, prince." He smirked recalling the conversations his spies had recorded. Episodes of the life the boy had forsaken to appease the dragon's wishes. Memories of a high-ranking man who fancied him. Of the childhood instances experienced in Ignacia. Of the siblings he had sacrificed himself for, who were no doubt still terrified for their brother's safety. He may have feelings for the dragon, but Kai was like any other human when it came to sacrificing.

As the Sorcerer walked along the forgotten path, he noticed a cold stream still flowing and an evil idea formed in his mind.

He dunked his hands into the freezing liquid and used his magic to create a small ball of water.

"Enough talking, time for some screaming." He cackled as he blew into the bubble turning it into an ice ball. He then shook the ball violently before throwing it into the air. He smirked as it broke apart and a grey, shimmering mist blew through the wind towards the castle. That should buy him some time...

****************

Nya hollered and roared in rage as she slamming the door to her house shut. It screamed in protest as it suffered the force of his anger. The only thing the village idiots were good for was gossip and apparently, Morro's dismissal of Kai's fate had spread faster than an infectious plague. So much now even other towns were mocking them. No matter where she went to who she begged to help her, she was simply laughed at. One of them even suggested she join her brothers and started to believe in children's stories.

A frustrated hand ripped at Nya's raven bangs.

The only one who seemed remotely worried was the librarian, Dr. Saunders, but he was just one old man. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't go wandering through the dark forest, let alone take on a dragon-hybrid monster. She stormed into the kitchen, her angry steps echoing loudly in the empty room. Nya growled and started grabbing whatever her furious mind thought she would need and stuffed them into a bag she already had set up on the kitchen table.

If no one will help her, she would find that castle and get him back herself.

She stuffed the bag with food, maps, and anything else. She strapped it tight and threw it over her shoulders, donned her thickest coat to keep out the freezing winter air, her cloak, and her heaviest boots. Once she was secure, she turned to the staircase.

"Lloyd, I spoke with Mrs. Grumbmiller, you're gonna stay with her until I get back, is that alright?" She called loudly. Her words echoed through the house, and she braced herself for her younger brother's protests. Instead, she found only silence and she started to panic. She quickly realizing Lloyd hadn't run downstairs when she came inside. He didn't come crying and begging to know if anyone would help them like he had done every time she came home over the last two months.

When their previous attempts had failed.

After two months of trying, Nya and Lloyd returned home only to discover the town was debating what to do with their house and shop now that they were gone. It was only because of Nya's fury that the town would act so irresponsibly. Nya refused to leave their home unattended. Despite Lloyd's protest, Nya left him behind to protect the shop under Mrs. Grumbmiller's care during the lonely nights. Panic started to rush through Nya's entire being.

She bolted from the stairs, checking each room on the ground floor, painstakingly for her younger brother.

When her search failed she thundered up the old steps. Her eyes scanned every room, meticulously for any sign of the young boy. Nya's eyes widened when she entered her own room. Lloyd had been known to sleep there some nights when his worry became too much. Again she found it all empty, even missing a few things. The realization made her sick as she bolted upstairs, heading straight towards Lloyd's bedroom. She panicked and threw the door open but her heart sank into her stomach.

The room was empty, but dressers were left open, empty of clothes.

Her thick winter cloak was missing from the hanger as well as Lloyd's thickest pair of boots. The only evidence that the boy had been there at all was a note left on the bed. She grabbed it with haste and read it as fast as she could. Her eyes bulged with horror and fear as she read over each word, filled with tears.

Nya,

If you're reading this then I'm already gone. I'm sorry I didn't wait until you came back but no one is going to help us, I know that now. I can't leave our big brother to suffer in that horrible place. He's only there to protect me, so I've decided I'm going to go back to that castle, and no matter what I must do I will free our big brother. No matter what. I've already taken more than enough remedy so I won't choke, so don't worry about me.

Please don't come after me, Nya.

I know you and what you're planning. You'll try and switch places with Kai and I can't let that happen. That dumb duke is right about one thing, you two have sacrificed everything for me, now it's my turn to help you.

I love you, Ny-Ny.

Nya screamed and cursed, crushing the little note in her hand, cursing her baby brother's foolishness. Her hands clenched the window as she looked outside. Though Winter was fading quickly, new frost still encased the ground. Winter was still dangerous and it was the most hazardous time of year for someone with Lloyd's condition. She could also swear that those dark clouds rolling in were the signs of an incoming blizzard. A bad one at that.

Snow was already falling and getting heavier with every passing second.

She screeched as she tied on her boots and hopped down the hall, before finally falling over and stormed out the front door. If Lloyd died, she was going to murder him. As soon as she was ready, Nya bolted down the street and towards the woods for any sign of Lloyd as she vanished into the night. She was in such as rush that she didn't notice or hearing the hammer of footsteps approaching the now-empty home. The snow-covered any evidence of her footprints within seconds, masking her trail in the process.

Seconds after Nya left, Morro and Bansha arrived with Noble's collection wagon.

"Nya! Lloyd! Kai!" Morro hollered as he shoved the door to the dark house open, not even bothering with chivalry as Bansha stepped inside behind him. As soon as they entered, they saw that the house was vacant of light and life. The lamps had burnt out, the doors were locked, and no sound echoed through the rooms.

"Where are they? I thought Nya would be back by now!" The duke screeched like an angry owl.

"They're not here, Morro." She quirked, not wishing to be on the wrong side of the Duke's anger.

"This is ridiculous! How long do they plan on being gone? It's been four months!" He bellowed throughout the house. He hissed in a furious rage when no one answered him.

"Morro, you don't think... maybe..." Bansha trailed off nervously. She nervously rubbed her arms and flinched and looked at the floor when Morro's heated glare turned to her.

"If you are going to say what I think you're going to say, I don't want to hear it! There is no such thing as dragons or castles or any of this nonsense! It was a lie! A trick of their little minds!"

"But Morro, think of it!" She protested. "Kai's been gone for almost four months, and ever since his disappearance Nya has been going around town and asking anyone to help her, and Lloyd's been doing the same thing, swearing on their lives that he's been kidnapped and taken hostage by this dragon; they've even gone so far as to seek help from other towns! Why would they keep this story of a 'dragon' kidnapping Kai going if it wasn't true? What if Kai really was kidnapped?"

Morro glared at the girl and opened his mouth to protest but found he could not.

Instead, he stormed back through the door scowling.

"Alright, say this 'dragon' does exist and their story is true? Why would Kai stay with such a monstrosity?" He chuckled darkly.

"Well as you said, Morro, he would do anything to protect his family correct? Maybe, he was forced?" She suggested.

"Excuse me, duke." A smooth voice interrupted Morro as he was about to scream again. The two of them turned around and saw a tall man dressed in vibrant red and purple colors that made him glow in the darkness of the storm approached them. His hood shadowed his face and eyes and only pale streaks of black hair were visible.

"Forgive my forward intrusion, but I'm afraid I couldn't help but overhearing your plight, the plight of your town, and I think I may know what has befallen this unfortunate family." He said with the best fake saddest look he could muster. The pair exchanged equal bewildered glances until Morro's gaze hardened and he returned his glare to the man.

"And who are you?"

"My name of no importance to one of such caliber as yourself, sir." He bowed respectfully. Morro soaked the flattery up like a sponge, but Bansha shivered, catching the sinister smile crossing the man's face.

"Know only that I wish to aid you, I have traveled much in my lifetime, seeking wisdom and the destruction of injustice; if this creature is who I fear we must act quickly or I fear this boy, your fiancé's fate, may already be sealed."

"What are you talking about? What will happen to my Kai?" Morro demanded.

"My entire life, my lady, has been devoted to the destruction of a terrible beast who is responsible for the downfall of my ancestors." The man began. "A hundred years ago they ruled these lands until they were brutally betrayed by this creature, as punishment he was cursed to become a dragon and since then I have hunted him down in hopes of avenging my family's senseless destruction and it seems I have finally found him." He spoke with the passion of a tragic hero but remained focused on their reactions.

He could see they were both skeptical but there was fear evident in their eyes.

Fear that he knew was the perfect fuel for creating an angry mob or a rebellion or an army to obey one's will if it would promise the return of their safety.

"What does your personal crusade have to do with my fiancé?" Morro demanded again as Bansha's hands found his arm and squeezed it tightly, shivering at the frightening presence the man radiated.

"As I said, sir, the dragon is a monster." He spat. "He seeks an end to his curse, and unfortunately, that freedom includes the seduction of a beautiful and talented mortal, and apparently he's settled for this boy you've fallen for, so just you watch; he will descend his destruction on the entire town if given the chance!" The man spoke, emphasizing the destruction of the town and the word seduction.

"No!" Morro screamed and thrashed in fury and rage. "Kill him! Destroy him! Slice off his head!"

"Calm yourself, my lord." The stranger soothed in a sophisticated voice that commanded obedience. "There is still time to save the boy and his family, but I need your help, yours and this town's if you are willing to help me?" He asked as his eyes were soft and his voice pleading. "My only request is that you let me kill the monster, all I ask is to avenge my family, your land shall be yours once more and whatever riches are in the castle, I'm wealthy enough that I do not need such trivial things, all I seek is to avenge my family."

"Of course," Morro announced, throwing his cloak over his shoulder and howling in his delight. "We must get to the town hall immediately! Bansha, go and gather my council, tell them to rally the people, we have to rescue my fiancé!" He ordered, leaving no room for argument. Bansha shivered and nodded mutely, before rushing down the street desperate to get away from the man.

"By the way, who should I say you are when I explain you to the city?" The duke turned to the man as he hauled after his maid. He was shocked, however, to find the man had vanished into thin air. The only difference to before was the thundering of the incoming snowstorm clouds...

[nanoland]

title: Compass Rose 

series: Lucifer (TV) 

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve

summary: In which Mazikeen exercises her renowned patience. 

warnings: Lucifer is kind of a dick in this. Not intentionally; he’s just young and colossally self-centered. 

 Also on Ao3! 

0 

“You. Demon. What’s your name?” asks the Morningstar, looking bored and depressed, as usual.

She straightens up, brimming with nerves and excitement, feeling her acidic blood bubble happily because he’s so handsome! And he’s talking to her! Her siblings will shriek with jealousy when they hear of this. “Mazikeen, my liege.”

“Mazikeen,” he repeats, mispronouncing it. “Great. Maze, do something about… all that, would you? It’s dreadfully grating.”

He gestures to the sea of damned, miserable human souls milling around the base of his throne, calling up to him for help or mercy.

“Yes, my liege,” she says, her bright mind already hard at work planning the next few millennia of punishment.

 0 

“Maze, is there a letter from Amenadiel?”

Mazikeen is now four hundred years old and in all that time, not a single letter has arrived in Hell, from Amenadiel or anyone else. Regardless, her handsome king asks every week.

It’s fine. She’s far too mature and cunning to feel even the slightest scrap of envy towards some pompous old angel she’s never even met, regardless of how obviously Lucifer loves him.

Regardless of how obvious it is that he loves no one in Hell half as much.

“No, my liege.”

“Hmm. Fine. Whatever. Fuck him, then. Brothers – who needs ‘em?”

She nods. She herself has many, many brothers, and sisters, and siblings who are neither or both, and she certainly doesn’t need them.

(Sometimes she longs for them, especially when she’s weary from the years and years dedicated to building and securing Lucifer’s kingdom, but she never needs. Needing is for the weak.)

It occurs to her that that king might be cheered by stories of Tradiusis, her most treasured and most useless brother, who is prone to chatting with the damned and asking them about all the silly human indulgences they enjoyed in life, like movies and theme parks and hot dogs. Fool that he is, the mere thought of him always brings a smile to her face.

But she decides against it, suspecting that if she were to begin telling Lucifer about her family, he’d get that same dull, faintly irritated expression she sees every time she reads him a report about the number of new arrivals and how various parts of Hell will need to be restructured to accommodate them all.

(She wonders what will happen when Hell is full – does he have a plan? Is she expected to have a plan?)

(How long, exactly, are they supposed to keep doing this?)

(Surely this can’t be all they were made for?)  

 0  

“Maze, get me a drink, would you?”

Mazikeen is Lucifer’s right hand, his bodyguard, the highest-ranked demon in Hell, named the Lady of Pain, the Whirlwind, and the Blood Dancer by her peers and underlings.

Pouring drinks is… new to her.

But this is what he wants; this club, this loud music, these inebriated humans constantly demanding attention and entertainment, constantly needing to be managed. And he’s her king.

She pours him his drink and listens to him play the piano, until some wretch attempts to grope her and loses two fingers.

 0 

Running a nightclub is, it turns out, complicated.

There are all sorts of rules and regulations regarding what can and cannot be done inside it.

At one point, Lucifer decides it would be fun to have white tigers roaming the dance floor. After a few days spent looking into that option, she has to explain that they may to have settle for waitresses dressed as tigers. He pouts like it’s her fault and goes back to the piano.

She’s also not allowed to kill anyone, which is, honestly, ridiculous. Mazikeen is an ancient being, a warrior nigh unparalleled, with centuries of experience contending with the worst the human race has to offer, and every single night she endures treatment from at least one of Lucifer’s guests that, even to her vast, reasonable, and patient mind, clearly warrants swift annihilation.

If murder is, indeed, illegal, how do all the mortal women in this city who serve drinks cope?

“You block it out, I guess,” says Suzy, a waitress with thick red hair and tired eyes, after Mazikeen has had to save her yet again from a patron with wandering hands (and now broken hands). “You know, just… don’t let it get to you. Grow a thick skin.”

Mazikeen considers the half of her body that has no skin whatsoever and snickers inappropriately. Then she gifts Suzy one of her knives.

 0 

Chloe gasps. “Maze! No! Absolutely not!”

“Why?” she asks, annoyed but also genuinely curious.

“I can’t just torture a suspect to get information, Maze. It’s wrong.”

Mazikeen considers saying: You already torture people. You lock them up in tiny boxes until their minds break and their lives are utterly ruined. How is that different? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: You let Lucifer violate peoples’ innermost selves to obtain information. How is that better? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: I don’t want to be good. I don’t care about being good. So why do I seem to put so much more thought into how to be good than you do? I don’t understand, I don’t, I don’t.

Instead, Mazikeen rolls her eyes and says nothing.

 0 

“Maze! No! What were you thinking?” cries Linda, rushing over to the cradle. “You can’t give that to a baby!”

She snatches away Mazikeen’s present; a blade, small and silver, just right for tiny hands, the same blade Mazikeen herself received from her favourite sister on her fourth birthday. It has tasted the blood of over a hundred enemies.

Charlie starts to cry and Linda puts the blade aside so she can pick him up and comfort him.

“Children need to be able to protect themselves,” Mazikeen insists.

“No, Maze. Children need to be protected.”

“No one protected me.”

Linda doesn’t say: Exactly. Why would I want my son to be anything like you?

Because Linda is kind.

But Mazikeen is perceptive and she sees it in her friend’s eyes all the same.

 0 

“So then, then it turns out that Jon Snow is actually Daenarys Targaryen’s cousin, right, which makes him – oh no! – a rival contender for the Iron Throne, and…”

“Ugh,” Mazikeen groans, cutting Ella off. “I thought this was a show about dragons! Why does it waste so much time on people either fucking or killing their relatives?”

She laughs at Mazikeen’s exaggerated annoyance. “It’s not just about dragons. There’s a lot of stuff about politics and war and, yeah, fucked-up family dynamics. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons it grips me so much. My own family’s always got a ton of drama going on, too. I mean – no incest. Not that I’m aware of. But you know all about my brothers.”

Mazikeen is about to ask what the dragons look like – whether the show’s version bears any resemblance to the beasts she’s ridden into battle – when Ella tilts her head sideways and squints at her. “Huh. Now that I think about it… I’ve told you all about my brothers but I’ve never asked anything about your family. That was shitty of me! Can I ask now? Or is it, like, one of those things you don’t talk about? Like where you’re from and how you met Lucifer?”

Fiddling with a lock of her hair – it’s straight and black today – Mazikeen says, “I don’t mind talking about it. Just… most people don’t care.”

Ella frowns, briefly (cutely, curse her). “Well, I wanna know! You got any brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“A lot. I’m not actually sure exactly how many there are now.”

“Oh, right. Gotcha. Are you close to any of them?”

“Not these days. But when we were young, we were pretty tight-knit. Didn’t really have anyone besides each other.”

Ella asks her more questions and though she has to keep her answers extremely vague, Mazikeen finds that she likes talking about her home and her childhood. Prolonged exposure to the human world has begun to make her feel insubstantial; a tool, a disguise, a thing without roots or history. Lucifer’s been no help with that, for he’s only ever known her as his servant (and, sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, his friend, by virtue of the fact that friendship with someone who works for you – who can do nothing but work for you – requires no tedious emotional labour whatsoever).

It’s nice to remember that she has, in fact, been other things. That she could, perhaps, be other things in the future.

 0 

“So,” Dan slurs, hunched over his beer. “You got whores… hordes… horns? Thought demons had horns.”

She’s busy applying a fresh coat of candy-pink lipstick to match her powder-blue bob. “Some do. I don’t.”

“Well, that sucks. That’s not fair! You deserve horns. You’re cool, Maze.”

Because that provokes a twinge of genuine affection, she says, “Wanna see what I have got?”

“Hell, yeah!”

He grins drunkenly.

“You need to promise not to scream.”

“Oh – oh, man, is it scary? Is it gross?”

She shows him her true face.

After a moment of owlish blinking, he shrugs and returns to his beer. “Eh. S’not that gross. Lucifer’s grosser. Wanna play pool?”

 0 

Amenadiel presents her with a beautiful black sheath. “I crafted it from my own feathers. It will keep the blade contained until he’s old enough to wield it safely.”

She slides Charlie’s knife into it. “Someone will need to teach him.”

“Who taught you?”

“Me? No one. They just threw us at one another and clapped for whoever survived. But… well. He’s not like me, is he?”

The angel places the sheathed blade down beside Charlie’s stuffed rabbit and plastic truck. “Maybe not now. With any luck, that will change.”

 0 

“Ma-aaze,” Lucifer groans, flopping back in his armchair with his long legs artfully folded and his hand over his eyes. “I’ve had such a tiresome morning. Pour me a drink, would you?”

“Pour it your damn self,” she suggests, standing on his penthouse’s balcony and admiring the view. His throne in Hell was about as tall as this building. From up here, all the little people down below look exactly the same.

He pouts and fetches a glass – and, to her surprise, one for her as well.

 0 

Mazikeen brings an abrupt, efficient end to the bar fight by slamming her palm into an assailant’s solar plexus.

He drops like a ton of bricks, joining the pile of groaning men, broken furniture, and smashed bottles. (Shit; it’s going to take ages to clean all this up. If Lucifer didn’t have infinite money, Lux would have gone bankrupt eight times by now.)

She turns to see Eve staring at her, beautiful mouth hanging open, and braces herself for the “Maze! No!”.

“That was so cool,” Eve breathes, and rushes over to leap into Mazikeen’s arms, only to draw back at the last second. “Oh no! You’re hurt!”

There is, indeed, a small cut on Mazikeen’s left hand.

“Don’t care, doesn’t matter,” says Mazikeen, reaching for her, wanting badly to be kissed.

But Eve drags her into a quiet back room where she applies disinfectant and bandaids with cartoon cats on them.

“I really wanna learn how you did that thing with your elbow,” she chatters, wiping away a few spots of blood with a white handkerchief. “The way his nose just went crunch! – man, it was fantastic.”

“I can teach you. If you like.”

Eve’s dark eyes are fond. “You’re always offering to do something for me – to teach me how to fight, or to carry something, or to protect me. It’s… like, I love it. But you know you don’t have to, right?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I wanna do stuff for you sometimes. Oh! That reminds me. Lucifer was going to take Chloe to a wrestling match but then they had another fight and he’s back to being sad, sooo I stole the tickets out of his jacket. Wanna go?”

“I love you,” says Mazikeen, even though she’s said it five times today. She likes the way it sounds in her mouth. She likes the way it makes Eve’s whole face sparkle.

“I love you too, babe.”

[tendouthighs]

Characters: Kuro Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou (separate)

Time period: 3rd years at Nekoma, late college time

Warnings: literally one slightly suggestive line

Word Count: 1.7k

Genre: Fluff

Format: One shot

Gender: Fem/Male/Gen

Dedicated to @jayeray for the secret solstice event between me and some friends!

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XOXO

Kuro Tetsurou:

It was finally the weekend, the boys had just finished their volleyball practice and you and Kuroo were on your way back to his for your Annual-December-Weekend-Movie-Marathon. Cool name right? Anyway, the manger of Nekoma, Jay, had just finished locking up and saw Kuro waiting for her by the vending machine. Walking over Kuro passes Jay a soda and proceeds to hold her hand.

“So what are we going to watch this time?” Jay asks as she take a sip of her drink, “I swear to god if it’s the polar express again, I’ll drown you in hot chocolate.” Kuro chuckles and grabs her unoccupied hand, “You say that but I know you love the film, sweetheart.” “Don’t ridicule me you ass hat” Jay says in fake annoyance. “What can I say? It’s fun to tease you” His ever lasting smirk makes Jay want to hit him but unfortunately her hands are full.

Jay rolls her eyes as she sees that they’re just now coming up to the schools gate. “If we stay at this speed we’re never going to get back. Was volleyball to hard on you, Captain~” Jay chides, teasing him back from his comment before hand. “Well I don’t know if you can see, kitten, but it snowed last night and I’d rather you not fall and be whining all through out watching polar express that ‘it hurts’ and that I should ‘kiss it better’. So you should be thanking me.”

The comment makes Jay fluster as she finish’s her drink and throws it away, “Hey! I thought I said no polar exp-“ Jay pauses in her sentence when she see the rest of the volleyball team are all standing around grinning, “what’s up with them?”

Turning around (and letting go of kuroo’s hand) Jay spots kenma launch a snow ball at Yamamoto. Kuroo instantly starts to cackle while Jay stood there in shock and proudness “I knew he had it in him”, Jay whispers whilst wiping a fake tear from her eye.

Just as Kuroo finally calmed down from laughing, he cracked up again as Yamamoto missed throwing a snowball at Kenma and hit Yaku. “Wahhh Yaku so you’re so tiny that it must of been luck that the snowball hit you” Lev commented which therefore caused Yaku to throw a snow ball at Lev and a while snowball war to start out.

“I’m not even going to question how this happened, so let’s just leave and not get dragged in-“ Jay whistles and try’s to turn around to sneak off, whilst dragging Kuroo with her. Jay was definitely not going to give up cuddles just to get cold in the snow. But alas, the universe has different plans for Jay and her main character life.

On their way out Lev threw a rouge snowball and it hit Jay square in the back of the head. God help Lev against Jay’s overprotective (and dotting) boyfriend. “Hey! Do you want to run double laps Lev!” Kuro shouts as Lev frantically apologises, “it was an accident Kuroo I swear- Jay, I’m sorry! Tell the bad man it was an accident!”

Whilst kuro was telling Yaku to keep Lev on a leash, Fukunaga throw a snowball at Kuroo, right in the face bless him. “That was cold as ice,” he giggles to him self.

Jay instantly burst out laughing “Fukunaga that was comedy ‘cold’! And the faCE KURO MADE AHAHA! Oh god I’m crying that was hilarious, you deserve a raise for that oh my-“

Jay stopped laughing as snow filled her mouth making her cough. The cackles of Kuro and the muffled giggles from the team were heard as Jay slowly stood up from her previous laughing fit on the floor.

Jay swiftly snatched the snowball Lev was making (which in turn made him whine, but Yaku stuffed snow in his mouth whilst Inokua tried to stop him-) and aimed the snowball at Kuros face, at close range might I add, and threw it into his cackling open mouth and closed eyes, which made him choke.

After Kuro stopped dying, Lev of course had to say something “that’s karma for throwing a snowball at our pretty managers face”, which irk’ed Kuro. “I’ll show you pretty you damned giant!” Kuro sneers and throws another snowball. Which unfortunately for Kuro, hit Kai. Which then began another war.

After an hour or so had past, and being covered in snow and cold to the bone, the volleyball team went inside to get changed, and dry off, in the locker room. Jay and Kuro started on their ways back to Kuroo’s, with his arm draped over Jay’s shoulder, and her arm wrapped round his waist. Slowly catching her breath, Jay breathed an airy laugh, “I gotta say, I didn’t expect to be dragged into a snow ball fight when I woke up this morning,” she smiled, “although I can’t complain, as you did get a face full of snow”.

“Says the one who got snow thrown in their mouth!” Kuro retorts, smirking. “Yeah! Well! At least I wasn’t the one who choked on the snow!” The look Kuro gave Jay made her realise what she said, “hey wait, don’t-“. He swiftly cut her off “ but you’re the one who chokes-“, Jay jumped and tried her best to cover his mouth, “LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU-“.

His eyes held amusement as he pries her hands away, “you know, that was our first snow ball fight.” Realisation flashed in Jay’s eyes and a giant smile came across her face. “Oh yeah! It didn’t snow last year” Jay comments and grabs kuro’s hand to continue the walk, “well I enjoyed it, especially now that we can get back and we can cuddle and get warm.”

Looking up at the sky Jay smiles fondly “Although it’s cold, this will still be one of the best memories that I’ll treasure with you and the team in”. Kuro’s eyes wondering slightly before a genuine smile settled across his lips, not his usual smirk. “Well then I’ll just have to warm you up in my arms and make more unforgettable memories”.

Coming to a stop a few blocks from Kuro’s house, he hugs Jay tight around the waist as her arms come to instinctively curl around his neck. Jay looks into his eyes and smiles cheekily, “well my lips are cold too.”

With a smirk and a whisper of “I think I can warm them up”. Kuro dips his head as his lips connect to hers in a soft kiss. Pulling back slightly Jay smiles at him. “We should hurry up, or else we’ll never get back,” with another peck to his lips Jay detaches her self, “I want more kisses and cuddles when we get in.”

With a laugh, they both continue back. It’s safe to say this is the best winter that Jay had ever had.. and Jay knows that as long as she has Kuro, all winters will be the same. Nothing seems more perfect than this.

XOXO

Bokuto Koutarou:

Bokuto always took things to the extreme, and Christmas was no exception.

The house was blitzed to the max with decorations, the biggest tree there was, and a hundred lights that light the front lawn.

But the activity that Bokuto loved the most, was gingerbread decorating.

So that’s what Jay and Bokuto did Christmas Eve Eve (as Bokuto says) because patience is not in Bokuto’s vocabulary.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing” Jay’s eyes glimmer in amusement as she watches Bokuto stack icing covered gingerbread biscuits on top of each other. “I know what I’m doing, I’m an expert at this type of thing! I wasn’t the ace of Fukurōdani for nothing!”.

“Bokuto that was four years ago,” Jay sweat drops but doesn’t bother pressing into the matter, “and with how tight you’re squeezing that bottle, the top looks like it’s about to blow off”. It was true, with the excitement and determination to finish his gingerbread tower? Stack? Thing?, his knuckles were slightly white from squeezing the bottle too hard.

“This bottle is as tough as nails!” He proudly declares, “nothing can break this bad boy-“ maybe it was the fact he spoke too soon, or his icing cover face and hands that made Jay laugh and grab the table to stable herself; but either way she was in stitches.

“W-what was you going to say-“ even speaking was hard when you were dying from laughter, “as hard as nails, eh?”. The tick mark on Bokuto’s forehead increased with every comment; until he exploded.

“YEAH, WELL, HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT IT WAS AS SOFT AS KUROO WHEN HE LOOKS AT WOMAN” Bokuto _screamed_, it went silent. A pin drop would of sounded like an earth quake.

“Did you just-“ Jay cut herself off as she stared at Bokuto, deadpanning. Flushing red he rubbed his face to get the icing off, instead making it worse. “Now you just look like a clown,” Jay’s comment makes his hair deflate a little so Jay quickly rephrased what she said, “a hot clown that is my lovely boyfriend!”

A proud smirk soon returned to his face as mischief flashed through his eyes, which in turn made Jay raise an eyebrow. “Well every hot clown needs a stunning clown!” Realisation hits Jay like a brick as she waved her hands around frantically, “h-hey! W-wait a minute,B-Bokutooooo!”

Bokuto pounces on Jay and knocks the both of you to the floor, with Bokuto on top of you, gripping Jay’s hands with his; whilst rubbing his cheek against Jay’s simultaneously. “Now we’re clowns together! All we need now is a baby to make a clown family!” The comment is enough to make Jay flush, but Jay quickly push it down as she sits up and Bokuto slips to the floor. “At least give me a ring first” Jay jokes as Bokuto’s hair sticks straight up and stars shine in and around his eyes, “Marriage is the key to a clown family!! I’ll start the preparations and we can have a gingerbread tower cake and-“ before Bokuto can ramble anymore Jay presses a finger to his lips which stops him in his rambles, going cross eyed to stare at her finger.

Meeting back with Jay’s eyes, fondness is swirling within her irises, “oh I love you, you big good,” a massive smile etches on to his as he tackles you to the floor again, changing “I love you! I love you!” Over and over.

“Alright, alright!” Jay fondly holds him back, “let’s get tidied up and then we can discuss the marriage deal with the gingerbread tower cake”

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General Taglist: @mssyprsn @sachirou-senpai @sugasugawarau

Random: my heart is about to beat out of my chest I’m so nervous- sorry in advance because of how b a d my writing is- ily- xoxo

[breanime]

on the "5 times Miguel & Eva almost got caught perving on one another and 1 time they did": I sort of imagined it spanned their whole relationship? So maybe some college, some of the pre-kids early days, some when they first show up heck maybe one in the afternoon before the big blow-up where Miguel gets his head up his ass. And then I guess once caught by kids?

I kind of just made this a 5 times they were perving on each other and tried to hide it and the one time they didn’t hide it, so it’s not exactly what you asked. I’m sorry, but I hope you like it!

One

Rio was exhausted in the best way. It was three in the morning, he was living in a fucking mansion, and Cleo was naked and dozing off in his bed. He went to the fridge, taking out a gallon of OJ with the name “Coco” written on it and chugged it. He was shirtless, and the cool air from the fridge felt good on his warm skin. Too tired to do anything productive, and too awake to sleep, Rio wandered around the halls for a bit until he heard voices.

“I’m telling you, they’re ready to deal,” Miguel was pacing, Rio could tell by the controlled anxiety in his voice, “All I need is a day, maybe two, and I can secure their invests on this.”

“I know you think that,” Eve sighed, “but, really, Miguel, we’ve tried everything. There’s no point in prolonging defeat. We should cut our losses and move on.”

Rio poked his head around the corner, about to offer his unasked for two cents, but stopped when he took in the scene.

Miguel’s back was to him, and he was leaning over his desk, peering down at a few papers. And Eve...

...Eve was definitely checking out his ass.

Rio grinned, “Anything I can do to help?” He asked, chuckling softly at the way Eve jumped and took out her phone, sparing her one more smirk before walking away.

“The hell was that about?” Miguel muttered.

“Probably nothing,” Eve said back, not looking up from her phone, her cheeks warm. 

She didn’t look Miguel in the eye for the rest of the night.

Two

“I’m gonna slap you,” Coco growled.

“Why?” Angel asked back.

“You fucking know why.”

“Dude, the fuck you want me to do? Not look?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I want you to do, you animal!”

“Bro, she’s wearing a fucking mini-skirt, how am I not supposed to look?”

Coco slapped him in the back of the head then, and Angel yelped, jumping back. “Carnal, look, even Miguel is checking her out!”

The two boys turned. Miguel was, in fact, checking out Eve in her tight, tiny mini-skirt. 

Coco made a face, “He’s not even blinking.”

“Dude’s a second away from drooling on his Armani suit.”

“Should we say something?”

“Like what? ‘Yo, we all know how bad you wanna break Eve’s back, but maybe stop ogling her in front of the whole house’?” Angel suggested.

Coco shook his head, “C’mon man, be more subtle... YO TIO, YOU NEED A GLASS OF WATER OR SOMETHIN’?!”

Miguel turned away, and Eve raised an eyebrow, confused as to why Miguel looked so guilty while Coco and Angel were laughing their asses off.

Three

Letty sat on Coco’s lap, kicking her feet as she enjoyed her chocolate ice cream cone with sprinkles. Liyah was in the kitchen with Eve, and the two of them were talking when Miguel walked into the dining room.

“Papa Miguel,” Letty said cheerily, “Daddy got us ice cream, and I got sprinkles!”

“I see,” Miguel smiled at his pseudo-granddaughter, “Is it yummy, amor?”

Eve couldn’t help but smile as she watched the exchange. Miguel adored Letty, and watching the two of them together always threatened to make her swoon. She watched as Letty offered up her cone to Miguel, and Eve felt her heart flip in her chest when his tongue came out to sample the treat. She never wanted to be an ice cream cone so badly in her life...

“Damn girl,” Liyah grinned, “you, uh, need a minute alone? Or at least a drink?”

Eve made a noise, turning around so that no one could see the dirty thoughts reflected in her eyes.

Four

When Eve walked in the room, Miguel and the kids were on the couch, watching...

“What is this?” She asked, tossing her ridiculously expensive purse (a gift from Miguel) onto the side table. 

“Security footage from our last job,” Spooky answered, “We wanted to review a few things.”

“Oh... Okay,” she went to stand next to Miguel, who was holding his chin in his hand. 

Miguel was trying to concentrate; he really was....it was important to watch the footage, see where they could improve for next time, but it was hard to focus when Eve was so close to him. She smelled so good; he knew for a fact that she was wearing his favorite perfume, and she looked as beautiful as ever, a small frown on her face as she watched the footage. The kids were talking, but he couldn’t hear them, all he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating the more he thought about Eve...

...his best friend, his partner...

...the woman he loved, but could never have.

“Is that Angel?” She asked.

“What?” He turned, blinking. “Is what Angel?”

“That,” she pointed to the TV with her chin, “Is that Angel or Spooky with the safe? I can’t tell.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s Angel,” he answered, clearing his throat and looking back at the screen, “Why?”

“Strong as he is, wouldn’t it have made sense--and been faster--to just have him stack the smaller safe with the lockboxes onto the bigger one and wheel them both to the truck at the same time?”

Miguel nodded slowly, considering it. “Yeah, that’s... That would be smarter, more efficient.”

“Oh, there’s Spooky... Didi did a great job covering all the guys’ tattoos.”

“Except Coco,” Angel called from his spot on the couch.

“Yeah, Coco is more tattoo than man,” Rio added with a smirk.

“Look who’s fucking talking,” Coco drawled back, only refraining from flicking him off because Eve was in the room.

Eve laughed, and Miguel couldn’t help but smile at the sound. She had a beautiful laugh, and her lips...

“...Miguel,” Didi called, “Uncle Miguel!”

He blinked, turning away from Eve to look at his niece. “Sí?”

Didi grinned, “I asked you a question, but you were too busy eye-fucking Eve to hear me.”

“Language, young lady,” Miguel said, more out as a deflection technique than out of genuine concern for her cursing.

“Coco just said ‘fucking’ two seconds ago!” She pointed out.

“Miguel, look,” Spooky sat up, “This is what I was talking about before, watch Rio...”

Miguel turned his attention (or at least a small portion of it) to the screen. Rio, Spooky, and Angel were loading the safes onto the truck. Coco’s head--wearing a black stocking over his face--popped out of the driver’s side window to watch them. On screen, Spooky said something to Angel and Rio, and Rio responded by nodding his head.

“See?” Spooky asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“See what?” Rio asked back, irritation clear in his voice.

“That nod--that could be used to identify you,” Spooky shot back.

“A nod? You for real, dude?” Angel said, rolling his eyes.

“We’re supposed to be as non-specific as possible, that’s why we wear masks and disguise our voices. Things like that,” Spooky gestured back to the TV with the remote, “can be used to implicate us.”

“How?” Rio asked back.

“They could match that nod to you, they follow you for less than a day, they’ll see you do it a good dozen times--”

“--Yeah, me and every other Latin dude within 8,000 miles,” Rio shrugged, “It’s a common fucking gesture, man. And even if they see me, specifically, doing it, they’d need way more evidence than that to get me in an interrogation room, much less get clearance to tail me.”

“The rule is to be as non-specific as possible,” Spooky repeated, “You know that, any tiny little gesture or comment can be used to track us down--”

“Dude, you’re blowing this out of proportion,” Angel said quietly.

“Yeah, Spooky, it ain’t that big a deal,” Coco added.

“Are you guys serious right now?” Spooky cried out.

“Why do you always act like the sky is falling down?” Rio shouted back. “We pulled a successful job, man! Shit went off without a hitch!”

“It’s not over just cause we got away,” Spooky argued, “There’s gonna be investigations, interviews--”

“--Yeah, I know how this shit works.”

“Enough,” Miguel’s voice broke up the squabbling quickly, “There’s no point in arguing over a hypothetical. Play the tape.”

He received no arguments, the tape was resumed, and they watched it in silence.

And Eve was pretty sure that Miguel’s small show of authority would be appearing in her fantasies tonight.

Five

Miguel hated when Eve cried; he hated when she was sad. She was working on less than three hours of sleep and was determined to keep working--despite Miguel’s continuous efforts to get her to take a break.

And now she was crying.

Miguel knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t so much upset, as much as exhausted, so he didn’t try to soothe her with platitudes.

He just walked over to her, wiped her tears, and pulled her in for a hug. 

Eve melted into his embrace, sniffling as her tears dried up. 

He pulled back a bit, looking down at her, his hand, warm and gentle, on the side of her face. Her skin was soft under his hand, and her eyes, wet with tears, were still the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen in his entire life. 

Eve felt like she was floating, like she was a balloon full of anxiety and exhaustion, and Miguel was keeping her tethered to the earth. When she looked up at him and into those deep, deep brown eyes, it was like she could feel herself coming back to her body, could feel Miguel chasing away the doubts and uncertainties and replacing them with his support and comfort. 

 “You need to get some rest,” he said softly, “Some sleep will do you some good. You can stay here; you know you can.”

She nodded, his hand was still on her cheek, and she put her hand over his. “Thanks, Miguel.”

“Yeah,” he licked his lips, and her eyes eagerly followed the motion, “of course...” He leaned closer, and she swayed forward a bit.

“Papa Miguel,” Letty’s little voice broke the pair apart. She stood in the doorway, her stuffed bunny under her arm, wearing footed pajamas. “Papi and me fell asleep on the couch, and he’s too big for me to carry. Can you help me?” She paused, rubbing her sleepy eyes with her little fist. “Are you sad, Ms. Eve?”

Eve laughed, wiping under her eyes for any stray tears. “No, sweetheart, I’m just tired. Like your Daddy.”

“You need me to help wake your Papi up?” Miguel asked, going over to Letty and picking her up.

“Papi snores when he doesn’t sleep at home with me and Mommy,” Letty reported as Miguel carried her away. He turned for a moment, and he and Eve locked eyes. 

And then he was gone.

Plus One

It had been hard for Miguel to control his lustful feelings for Eve before they were a couple, but now that they were? 

It was damn near impossible.

Which is why she was currently on his desk, her legs wrapped around his waist, her mouth connected to his. There were papers and files on the floor, but Miguel didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was keeping her close to him. 

Eve’s hands were on his chest, and he growled into her mouth when she ripped his shirt open, the buttons flying as Miguel lowered his head and lightly bit into her neck. 

“Miguel...” She sighed out, and the sound of her voice, so full of desire and so damn sexy, made him weak. He slid his hand between her legs, separating her thighs as he licked her neck, and Miguel groaned again when he felt her hands unbuckling his belt. 

And then the door opened.

And then the cheering started. 

“Yoooooo! It’s about damn time!” Angel clapped. “I mean, Eve, love, you could do better, but still!”

“I knew it!” Spooky grinned. “I called it, I fucking called it!”

“Ay, I’m happy for you and everything, but we gotta set some ground rules or something,” Coco groaned.

“Yeah, Miguel, tie a sock on the doorknob or something next time,” Rio said with a smirk, “This is a home, not a frat house, man.”

“Oh my God, I gotta tell Toni,” Didi giggled, taking her phone out and snapping a quick picture, “You two look so good together!”

“Jesus...” Miguel murmured. “Okay, you guys have had your dramatic little showing, now leave.”

“He said, lovingly,” Rio said, already walking off, “Cleo is gonna lose her shit over this.”

“They got together faster than I expected,” Didi said cheerfully as she followed her brother out.

“Nah, he was all nervous she’d never wanna talk to him again after he almost fired her,” Spooky added, “This was the obvious next step.”

Miguel dropped his head into the crook of Eve’s neck, sighing as he--finally--heard the door slam behind them. Eve giggled, kissing the top of his head as she ran her fingers through his hair. He stood up, smiling softly at the woman he loved. “So...” he said, kissing the side of her mouth where her smile started.

“...should we put a sock on the door?”

*******************************************************************************************

Writing this took me SO long because I keep getting distracted by these Netlfix movies. Writing this also made me want to do a ficlet of smut for all the characters.....would anyone wanna read that, per chance? Let me know! :)