#i was surprised by how high security was until i read the description and it mentioned

[justiceburst]

Human Values Test

Goro's strongest values are Achievement and Self-Direction.

[universitypenguin]

Reissued Post - Backstory

Author's Note: Because Tumblr was having issues when I posted the original version of this, some of my followers are having trouble accessing it. I'm reissuing a few of my side piece stories so everyone can read them.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,132

Masterlist

When do you think Lloyd realized he cared and had feelings for princess? I recall in the story that the guys would give Lloyd a hard time when princess finally found a boyfriend that Lloyd would be devastated (poor thing 😭) I also kinda wanna know how he felt while she was dating Aiden. Obviously we know he didn’t like Aiden at ALL lol but did Lloyd ever feel hurt in a way watching princess go on dates with him and when she talked about him?

Learning about Aiden

“Why are you being such a space case?�� 

You jumped at Lloyd’s question, startled out of your own little world. Scrambling, you shut your screen and re-focused. 

“Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?”

Lloyd’s sharp blue eyes narrowed. 

“Who are you texting?” 

“Uh… no one?”

He leaned back in his desk chair and looked at you steadily. You curled tighter into the couch on the other side of his office, looking down at the floor. 

“I still have that report to do… maybe I should go work in my office. I don’t want to distract you.” 

“I’m already distracted, Princess. What’s the big secret?” 

“I met a guy. You know that alumni mixer I went to a few weeks ago?”

Lloyd grunted. “Yeah.” 

“His name is Aiden LeDoux. He moved in similar circles to me during college. We kind of hit it off.”

“That’s LeDoux, spelled like the country singer? What state does he live in?” Lloyd asked. 

He typed the name into a search engine with the word, ‘Virginia’ to filter the results. 

“Twenty-six, graduated three years ago, and works for AVT security?”

“That’s him. What did you find out?”

Lloyd glanced over. “You haven’t run a background check on him?”

“No. That’s for when I’m deciding whether to go on a date with him. But I’m curious.” 

“Ah. Let’s do this.” 

Lloyd cracked his knuckles and leaned over his computer. Your phone dinged with a message from Aiden, which you responded to as Lloyd typed. 

“No speeding tickets, no parking tickets. His academic record was less than stellar. Apparently he subscribes to the philosophy that C’s get degrees.” 

“Not everyone is academically inclined,” you said. 

“But you are. What will you guys talk about on a date if you have nothing in common?”

“I don’t know. Football?” 

Lloyd snorted. “Doesn’t start until September.” 

“Oh. That’s why you’re not showering me with long winded descriptions of the athletic accomplishments of people I don’t know.” 

“You could always mention how happy you were that the Atlanta Braves won the Superbowl.” 

Your eyes narrowed. “I know that’s wrong, but I’m not sure which part.” 

Lloyd snickered. “If you have to comment, just say that you’re a fan of anyone who isn’t the New England Patriots.” 

“Noted. Anything else on Aiden? Slaps on the wrist from university institutions, or other authorities?”

“Ah-ha. He has three parking tickets at the university. And a complaint for under age drinking. You should reconsider the date. He’s clearly an alcoholic who steals parking spots. One of these tickets was for him parking over the line. Disgusting.”

You laughed. “Terrible. He was probably drunk when he parked. Maybe even high.” 

Lloyd toggled over to a different page, one that Jake had set up for him. He typed in Aiden’s information and was surprised to see several security clearances. He checked out the company he worked for and found they had several Department of Defense contracts. 

Lloyd memorized the contracts and filed the information away for future use. 

Just in case. 

Date # 1

You were wearing a short black dress with tights and a blazer. He’d noticed the hemline was shorter than usual, but the jet black tights made it work appropriate. The color only served to highlight the shape of your legs. Lloyd had tried not to be distracted. He failed miserably. 

It didn’t help that the cut of the dress perfectly flattered your figure. He caught a glimpse of a spaghetti strap underneath your jacket and the image circulated in the back of his head for the rest of the day. 

Fuck. He needed to get laid. 

You were his friend and he needed to put aside this nonsense. The chemistry between you would never be realized and that was for the best. He sometimes wondered if the chemistry he felt was all one sided. Maybe you only saw him as a friend and a coworker, not a man. 

“Has Y/N mentioned that she has a date tonight?” Jake asked. 

Lloyd stiffened. “No. Why?”

“Just wondering.” 

He tried to brush off the irritation, but it bubbled up throughout the day. 

You had a date. That was fine. It was what single people did, right? They went on dates. He could arrange a date of his own, if he liked. With an age appropriate woman and not someone who was starting on soft foods when he was choosing a college. Lloyd’s eye twitched. 

He glanced at the clock. If he wanted an update on the insurance investigation reports he needed to catch you before you head out. Reluctantly, he set off down the hall for your office. 

Your door was closed, so he knocked. 

“Just a sec!” 

Did you sound breathless? When you opened the door, he saw why. The black tights were gone. In their place was a different kind of tights, made of mesh with a floral pattern that wound around your legs making them look long and sexy. The blazer was gone and your dress was held up by the thinnest of straps connected to a tight fitting bodice. 

Your height was different, which prompted him to look down. 

Fuck me heels. That’s what they’d called shoes like that when he was young. As the saying went, ‘you can’t walk in them, but you can wear them in bed.’ 

“What do you think?” you asked. 

“Is this a first date?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you have any concerns about breaking an ankle? Or perhaps an entire leg?”

The shoes bothered him more than the dress. 

You laughed and turned to the mirror you’d hung on the far wall of your office. He watched as you applied a fresh coat of red lip lacquer. The shiny finish made him think it wasn't lipstick, but at the same time, it had more color than lipgloss. He wondered if it was one of those fancy products with the no transfer formulas. The kind women usually wore when they planned on kissing a man. 

A vibrant image of you on your knees with your lips around his dick came to mind. Lloyd shook his head to dislodge the image. 

“Okay, now what do you think?”

“You look beautiful.” 

He genuinely meant it.

“Really?” You tilted your head. “What’s missing? Please, just tell me.”

“Well… maybe it’s the context, but you don’t look like you in this outfit. It’s probably just me. I usually l see you in office wear.” 

You flashed him a smile. “That’s perfect. I’m going more for attention than authenticity, you know?”

He didn’t, and couldn’t untangle the concept behind your statement. The authentic you was a far better version than this glamorous photo shoot ready version of you. With a quick peck on his cheek, you skirted by him and down the hall to the elevator. 

Lloyd stood there, confused, disgruntled, and irritated that he hadn’t even asked about the insurance investigation he’d planned to bring up. He rubbed a hand over his face. 

Fucking hell. 

When he stepped into your office to lock the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. An imprint of red lipstick was on his right cheek. He stared at it for a long moment before he rubbed it away with his thumb. 

Lloyd returned to his office in a much better mood than he’d left it.

Date #3 

Jake had informed him of your last date, but this time it was Zach who let him know you were going on your third date with Aiden. 

Lloyd ground his teeth. 

“Careful there. Don’t crack a molar.” 

“Shut. Up.” 

“Would I do a thing like that?” Zach asked. 

He was grinning like a little boy with a sadistic streak and a magnifying glass on a bright summer day. 

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Heck yeah, I am. Have you met the dude?” 

Lloyd’s head swiveled. “No. Have you?”

“Yep. I waited outside, pretending to be on a call, so I could catch a glimpse.” 

“That’s creepy.” 

“No, it’s being nosy. I’m a private investigator. Being nosy is literally my job.” 

“Well?” Lloyd said. 

“He’s six foot three and probably weighs one forty. It’s like looking at a baby colt - all arms and legs, no substance.” 

This was great news. If you weren’t attracted to him this would probably be over quickly.

“Did you to talk to him?”

Zach smirked. “I texted her that you needed an update on the insurance case and cornered him in the lobby.” 

“She’s going to kill you when she finds out.” 

“I bought him a coffee and did a twenty minute interrogation. He didn’t even know what I was doing. He thought I was just being friendly.” 

Friendly wasn’t a word often applied to Zach Hightower. Lloyd got along with the Texan because they shared a devious streak and could lose themselves in the hunt; especially when the prey was other human beings. 

“Give me your impression.”  

“He’s squirrely. I don’t like him one bit.”

Lloyd focused completely on Zach. 

“In what way?”

“He used the phrase ‘I was in a mood,’ and not ‘my mood was.’ Stuff like that. Princess got pretty annoyed when she found me getting cozy with her boyfriend.” 

“She probably thought I sicced you on him.” 

“She asked me what I thought of him this morning and I had to dodge the question,” Zach said. “Landon noticed I didn’t answer and asked what was up. When I told him about interviewing Aiden, he said the mood thing is a sign of a personality problem.” 

“What kind?”

Zach shrugged. “The kind that makes you an asshole.” 

“She’s going out with him tonight?” 

“I guess so.” Zach said. 

A long moment passed as Zach stared at Lloyd, expectant. 

“Well?” 

Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to say something to her?” Zach asked. 

“You’re the one who thinks her boy toy has a personality problem. You say something.” 

“Landon said that, not me. I can tell he’s the kind of guy things just ‘happen’ to. The kind that doesn’t realize they’re responsible for how they act.” 

“I’m not going to disturb her relationship.” 

Zach sighed. “You’re such a bitchy little girl.” 

Lloyd sneered. “And you’re a nosy old woman.” 

“It’s my job, asshole.”

Date #5

Lloyd should’ve been suspicious when Zach brought him to a bar that didn’t have chandeliers made of antlers. 

Obstensivey, this outing was to distract him from your date tonight. When he found himself sitting at a table on the mezzanine of a place called “Club Violet,” questions should have come up. 

Jake sat to his left and Zach across from him. When Zach’s eyes began to stray around the room, Lloyd mimicked the behavior, almost out of habit. The lower area held the majority of the crowd. Its large dance floor pulsed with activity and the bar was packed. 

Then, he saw what Zach was looking for. You were perched on a barstool, your arms twined around Aiden’s neck. He was standing in front of you, his hands caressing your hips, straying lower than they ought to. 

Lloyd’s breath hissed. “Jake, if I throw Zach head first over this railing, do you think he’ll die?” 

“Huh?” Jake’s head snapped up from his phone. He stared. “What?”

“I could just snap his neck with my bare hands.” Lloyd’s tone was conversational. 

Jake looked between them and then back to his phone. “Landon will be here any minute.”

“Off topic, boy wonder,” Lloyd grumbled. 

“It’s relevant. We need two of us to break you up.”

“He’s been waylaid,” Zach said.

Lloyd glanced down and saw that your position had changed. You’d let go of your boyfriend to speak with a newcomer. Even from a distance in dim lighting, he could identify Landon’s fade haircut and the military straight posture. 

“Damn it.”

He snarled at Zach, who returned a Cheshire cat grin. 

“Well, well, well… look who's coming up the steps.”

Lloyd didn’t need to look. He knew you’d be on your way over. He covered his eyes and groaned. 

“I’m blaming you for everything. Everything.”

“Why are you guys playing the role of protective older brothers?” Jake asked.

“Because Aiden’s a squirrely little punk,” Zach said. “See? He isn’t even coming with her.”

Lloyd uncovered his eyes and frowned when he saw Zach was right. Aiden was still at the bar. He’d turned to a girl with raven’s wing hair and was chattering away, looking suspiciously like he was trying to pick her up. His eyes narrowed as something cold moved in his chest. 

You arrived on the second level with Landon and were rapidly approaching.

“What’s our cover story?” Jake asked.

“No cover story,” Zach said.

At least Zach was being straightforward, even if he was obnoxious. Lloyd tossed back half of his bourbon and hoped some liquid courage would take the edge off. 

Your eyes cut to Zach when you stopped at the head of the table.

“What are you? The Gladys Kravits of Bishop & Howard?” 

The big, blond Texan flashed a smile. 

“Why thank you, sweetheart. In my profession, that’s the highest compliment one could hope to achieve.” 

With an exasperated groan, you dropped into the chair beside Zach, and turned to Lloyd with an expectant expression.

“Can’t you collar him?”

“I’ve tried. Shock collars, choke chains… Nothing has worked.” 

Zach slung an arm around the back of Princess’ chair. 

“Your boyfriend is an asshole. Landon? You talked to him.”

“Just for ten seconds.”

You shared a look with the dark haired man and slanted Zach a sidelong glance. 

“You’re paranoid. I think you should see someone about that.”

He laughed. “I have. They can’t fix me.”

It was annoying that Zach’s arm had moved forward on your chair and was now pressed against your back. Did he think he was your best friend, rather than Lloyd? He had the urge to kick the other man under the table. 

You turned to Jake.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re right. These two,” he gestured to the older men, “are crazy. I think it’s age.”

“Shut up, punk. I can kick your ass any day of the week,” Zach said.

It was pretty much true. Zach only had two inches in height on the young man, but it was the solid 60 pounds of muscle that made him an immovable force. You couldn’t see the weight until he took off his jacket and even then, there was only a hint of the musculature. Zach never wore clothing that drew attention to his physique. He let it come as a nasty surprise to anyone stupid enough to mess with him. 

You were bantering with the Texan about him being your nanny. Lloyd watched closely and all he could see in Zach’s behavior was a paternal kind of affection. He knew a thing or two about Zach and because of that, he doubted there were any hidden motivations behind his actions.

What about Aiden had triggered Zach’s instincts? The way he talked. The lack of ownership of behavior. Lloyd tried to evaluate that on its own, treating it as fact. He could see the issue Zach was insisting was such a problem. Sitting there with the others bantering around the table, Lloyd turned his thoughts inward, pretending to present as he ran through the logic in his mind. 

He was paying enough attention to the conversation to notice you were gently trying to soothe Zach’s nerves. It seemed to be working, too. Landon was watching you closely and asking questions from interrogation school 101. By the time you left the table, pausing to hug Zach and reassure him that you were totally fine and had listened to all of his red flags, Lloyd had come to a decision. 

“What do you think?” Zach asked Landon when you were gone.

“I’m not sure. He seems insecure but hey, some guys of his age just are.” 

Zach groaned and shook his head. He picked up his beer and tilted it at Lloyd in a salute. 

“Look at the benefits of being nosy. I talked some sense into her.” 

Lloyd grunted. He waited for the right moment to corner Landon alone. He caught his shoulder and turned him away from the bar, where he’d been heading. 

“Come on. You don’t need another beer.” 

“Excuse me?” Landon demanded. 

“I want to talk to this Aiden kid. If Zach’s this worried about him, we need to check him out.”

“When did this become ‘we,’ rather than just you,” Landon asked. 

“Hurry up, we’re losing him.” 

Aiden was heading toward the door and the crowd prevented them from following as closely as they would have preferred. By the time they hit the sidewalk, Aiden was out of sight. Lloyd spun around, scanning the area. 

“Shit. We lost him.” 

“Is that him?” Landon asked. 

Lloyd whirled. 

He searched the crowd for a tall, thin man but didn’t find him. 

“Where?”

“With the blonde.”

Lloyd’s eyes narrowed on the silhouette of a couple standing in the shadow of a street lamp. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“No,” Landon said. 

Lloyd was almost ready to approach when the couple turned and began walking away. 

Landon grabbed his elbow. 

“Come on. Let’s not be weird. If you have something to say about Princess’ relationship, say it to her.” 

“What, exactly, am I supposed to tell her that Zach hasn’t already?” 

Landon snorted. 

“You know he’s only saying it because he knows you won’t.” 

Lloyd paused. “He is?”

“Yeah. We were expecting you to meet him at least before date number three. But she said you didn’t seem interested, so she wasn’t going to bother.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because we talked about it-”

“We? We, as in who?”

“Everyone. Except for you and Princess.”

Lloyd grunted. “Which is why Zach decided to get nosy.”

Landon shrugged. “He’s your best friend and you’re her best friend. It balances out. We get why you don’t want to step in, and that’s why Zach did.” 

They were nearly at the entrance of the club again, when Lloyd stopped short. 

“Should I be worried about this guy?”

Landon grunted, rocking back on his heels. The look on his face was all the answer Lloyd needed. 

“Right. I’ll look into it.” 

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

Masterlist

[pluckysidekick]

So no trailer this week with two and a half weeks to go, le sigh. We did see ads from local stations (using old promo photos), and we got what appears to be the Nancy Drew 4.01 title and description. Read on for that and a bunch more show and cast bits from the past week.

“The Dilemma of the Lover’s Curse.” They’re hitting the curse head on, which I like. Two different sites posted the title along with an episode description that came right from the season 4 description we got back in January.

Now that we’re so close, the reality of Nancy and Ace having potential love interests is sinking in. We know that Nancy will not risk Ace’s life as long as there’s no solution to the curse. I’m still hopeful for lots of Nace scenes, with plenty of delicious angst. Curious how this squares with Kennedy’s discussion of Nancy and Ace’s emotional openness with each other - I still expect Ace to figure out the curse quickly.

I’m also super hyped about the sins of the town’s past, the multiple supernatural mysteries, and the stories for the entire crew. May 31 is so close I can taste it.

Scott Wolf gave us some insight into S4’s resolution for our beloved characters in a new interview - it was a big deal for them to know it was the final season ahead of time, the season will cover the things that are most important to us, but “not every resolution is going to be satisfying for everyone.”

Glad to hear they planned real resolutions for everyone, terrified about them not all being satisfying. I’m absolutely expecting Nace endgame, but I want good things for all of our family. They’re keeping us on our toes…

We saw lots of our cast this week - Kennedy made a surprise appearance in an Arizona bookstore with her author parents (note this pic is with her mom and the bookseller, not McDad), Maddison was in Paris and England with her Versailles cast and her family, and Riley is appearing in another episode of Station 19 this week.

Alex has been on vacay in Italy and France (Hannah captioned the first photo “Alex doesn’t like PDA. So I fixed it” ☠️). Alex’s new show High Desert premieres this week on Apple TV. There’s a new in depth, spoilery review at AV Club. According to the article (spoiler alert), Peggy (Patricia Arquette) is “no longer speaking to her grown son.” We won’t see Alex until episode 6 - could he play Peggy’s son?

Leah’s show Matlock was picked up for the fall (watch the trailer), and she’s celebrating in Mexico with her bf.

Meanwhile Queen Charlotte is another huge hit with fantastic exposure for Tunji - check out the in depth Tatler profile on our favorite Scotsman, where he draws an interesting parallel between Charlotte & George’s and Harry & Meghan’s experiences - and admits he’s never watched Bridgerton.

In more show news, the Nancy Drew writers’ request for fan input has generated tons of great questions but only chaos from the writers so far - no real answers yet.

Speaking of chaos, Kennedy stepped into the fray to drop four songs from her S4 playlist. “The Winner Takes it All” (no more ace to play), “all my ghosts” (all my ghosts are with me), and “Thinking of You” (cause when I’m with him I am thinking of you) are killing me, the pain. “Big Poppa” has me thinking about Nancy under some kind of spell a la Burning Bride (as she described Episode 2) hitting on everyone in sight - “mackin’ hoes” while “my crew’s behind me.” Now in honor of “Big Poppa”, what if it’s Ryan!?

Finally, two more cast members were added to IMDB - Fred the car towing guy is back for 3 episodes (3, 5, and 13), and there’s a new security guard in Episode 9.

You get a gold star if you made it to the end. Another week, another wish for a trailer and new photos. I’m busy wrapping up The Space Between - expect the thrilling (I hope) conclusion before the season premiere. Also planning a fluffy epilogue, I at least can promise satisfying conclusions for everyone!

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

All Our Tomorrows by Catherine Bybee

The Heirs Band 1

What a wonderful story! I stayed up till almost three, looked at the clock, and gave in though I wanted to keep reading till the very end. This book…<sigh>…LOVED IT!

What I liked: * Chase Stone: business owner, intelligent, loves his mother and sister, protective, caring, sees the bigger picture, values what is real and true, and is happy with his life, rather taken with Piper

* Alex Stone: works in high power hotel job, loves her brother and mother, bright, good friend, dedicated, protective, caring, works well with her brother, want to know more about her

* Piper Maddox: was the assistant to the Stone empire owner, recently fired, good friend, bright, dedicated, organized, capable, excellent at her job, dog owner, has a secret

* The instant attraction but slow growing relationship between Chase and Piper – loved these two together!

* The Morrison family and their impact on the Stone family

* The mystery of who the third sibling is, how he will be found, and what his  presence will add  to the series

* Nick: BFF to Alex, nice guy, not much said about him but imagine he will show up again

* Hoping that the ex-wife Melissa and the people at the company trying to take over will be thwarted and eagerly waiting to find out how it will be done

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* Feeling I was part of the story, liked the characters and cared about the outcome

* Knowing that there is another book to look forward to

What I didn’t like: * Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about the children damaged by abandonment and the repercussions this can have

* Having to wait for the next book

Did I like this book? YES

Would I read more in this series? Definitely!

Thank you to NetGalley and Montlake for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

A story of a reluctant billionaire who takes on his father’s empire, its dark secrets, and a fiery assistant he can’t get out of his head. When Chase Stone’s estranged father dies, leaving his multibillion-dollar business to his children, no one is more surprised than him. Growing up outside of the high-stakes world filled with human vultures, Chase and his sister, Alex, are less than enthusiastic about stepping into their father’s shoes. That is until they learn of a half brother they didn’t know existed, and must find to share their inheritance with. Piper Maddox was the elder Mr. Stone’s übercapable assistant—abruptly fired two weeks before his death. She knows everything about Stone Enterprises and the man who built it. But Piper has no desire to work for another member of the Stone family. Even one as down to earth as Chase. Desperately needing financial security, Piper agrees to return so long as kissing up to Chase and accepting unwanted advances were not part of her job description. A task that becomes a serious hurdle for both of them. Piper and Chase scramble to find the third Stone sibling before the media does, sharing secrets along the way. Secrets that can bring them together or tear them irrevocably apart.

[funkymbtifiction]

I got John Lucovich’s book “The Instinctual Drives and the Enneagram” a few weeks ago and read it, but it was a lot of information to absorb at once, so I’m rereading it in slower chunks this time to retain more of it. First, it’s an excellent book so I recommend buying and reading it. Second, rereading his extensive explanations of each social variant had certain people popping into my head, both characters and from my life that I could see correlate with each dominant. (It surprises me, but one of my friends appears to be a so/sx. I expected sx/so.) I can also see how accurately (at least, based on what I observe of these people) his blind-spot descriptions are.

Third, I do think I’m sp/so. I have a lot of social, but my main focus appears to be on self-pres and this has caused some conflict with social dominants in the past, where they couldn’t understand my casual detachment in that area (oh well) and I thought their over-focus on appearances was a bit much. I also want to pull away from people and be autonomous, where social dominants seem to want more of a constant connection. (Them: Wouldn’t us living together be incredible? I could see you all the time! Me: *looks on them with horror*)

One thing I really liked that brought my entire approach into context was this quote from the self-preservation section in general:

“Self Preservation types have a strong capacity for working and putting effort in a focused direction. They usually don’t have ambition for status so much as a drive for material or creative accomplishment, or for a place where their energy can be channeled into something practical and meaningful. Self Preservation builds a quality of persistent, useful energy that’s useful to building toward long-term aims.”

That... explains a lot about me, and my work process. How despite being an ENFP and having an overload of my ideas, I identify and focus on doing one massive project at a time, rather than flitting my attention between them. I stay focused. Work on things until they’re done. It demands enormous amounts of mental energy that soon deplete me and cause me to withdraw, feel tired, or just want to cozy up at home. This is why I’m not social or extroverted in a traditional sense. SP-doms are aware of energy expenditure and worn out by socializing. I can also tell where having inferior Si undermines being an sp-dom to some extent. I often work myself mentally into exhaustion, as John L. would call it, “overdoing it” rather than “under-doing it.”

My happiest and most mentally well times are when I allow myself to admit I am tired and quit work for the day, even if it’s not finished yet. When I push away my need for completion (low Te) in the knowledge that my mind and body needs down time to rejuvenate, and a one or two day delay at the cost of mental exhaustion isn’t worth it. Sensors and stronger Si types seem to be better at recognizing a need for rest than me.

I’ve been pushing myself too hard recently, unfortunately... but the bonus thing is, I am almost done with book rewrites! Just two more sections to go. :)

I took some notes on the things the types focus on under stress (this really brought to mind certain characters) to show you other useful things his book provides:

Enneagram types under stress:

 Self-pres: fear of scarcity and harm

 Social: fear of being ostracized, excluded, or abandoned

 Sexual: fear of being undesirable and sexually overlooked

SP 1: reacts to hang-ups and imperfections in one’s lifestyle and environment as an affront to their idealistic sense of rightness and perfection.

SOC 1: becomes an impeccable exemplar of the values they wish their peers reflected, a “reformer” in the social realm.

SX 1: holds themselves, partners, and all relational dynamics to intense standards, to ward off sexual rejection through their own rejection of those who can’t measure up.

SP 2: projects scarcity onto others and acts as a caretaker at the neglect of themselves, running into exhaustion in hopes of reciprocation.

SOC 2: positions themselves as indispensable to loved ones by offering support, mentorship, or granting them access to important people.

SX 2: projects fears of undesirability onto others and then fills those needs to make them feel desirable or sexy. Makes themselves over to represent the “complete package” or “ideal lover.”

 SP 3: works to excess to stave off scarcity while also performing their best version of abundance and success in a chosen lifestyle.

SOC 3: competes for status and embraces the best traits of their environment to be outstanding, inspiring, and invaluable.

SX 3: competes to the be the most attention-grabbing, majestic, and fascinating sexual partner around, and embody idealized traits.

 SP 4: takes scarcity personally, as fuel for despair or something to rebel against.

SOC 4: represents their unique, edgy, mysterious side, while being aloof, keeping others desirous and fascinated y their presence.

SX 4: amplifies their intense personal “flavor,” mystique or talents to occupy a desired lover’s attention while trying to undermine any rivals.

 SP 5: minimizes their dependence on any needs to give more energy over to concentration.

SOC 5: become “the expert,” offering their specialized understanding and insight to be an indispensable recognized expert, while trying simultaneously to distinguish and separate themselves from others.

SX 5: provides intense penetrating, captivating insight and focus, but abruptly withdraws when they feel insufficient energy to engage with a lover or that emotional demands are being placed on them.

 SP 6: invests in and worries about the things that ensure their resources, and feel conflicted about upholding their obligations to others versus self-care.

SOC 6: defend friends, relationships, and values against harmful influences, and upkeep social agreements and structures as essential.

SX 6: exaggerates sexual characteristics and tests others’ levels of attraction by acting out to prove they’re exciting and desirable.

 SP 7: launches into plans and backup plans of how to acquire a lifestyle that gives them the freedom to pursue what they like, and indulge in rewards in the meantime.

SOC 7: form many different connections, friends, and talents, to be able to contribute without giving themselves over to any one thing.

SX 7: use high energy, over the top spectacles to dazzle or entertain prospective lovers, but quickly move on if they fear rejection or boredom.

 SP 8: hardens themselves, becomes overly intense and energized about securing necessary resources for their well being, “taking what’s mine.”

SOC 8: take charge of the social realm, be the galvanizing force.

SX 8: attempt to dominate their desired lover’s attention and energy, while using provocation to be “too much to handle.”

 SP 9: uses comforts, work and exercise to “get by on little,” settling for small habits and comforts at the expense of finding and pursuing what they really want for their lives.

SOC 9: over-adapt to others in relationships and resign themselves too quickly into social roles.

SX 9: use sexuality to disassociate, hiding behind sexuality or attraction and over-adapting to their partners’ preferences.

[searidings]

....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !

hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:

1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril

2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3

-

The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.

The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.

If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.

It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.

What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.

Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.

Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.

Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.

“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.

“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.

Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.

Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.

-

For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.

Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.

For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.

Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”

The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.

“Her veins were green, Alex.”

An eternity passes.

She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.

Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.

“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”

Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.

A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.

But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.

-

Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.

She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.

“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”

Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.

And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.

-

When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.

When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.

When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.

But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”

Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.

When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”

The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.

Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.

The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.

It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.

Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”

A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.

But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.

Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.

The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.

When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.

“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”

Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.

[kpopxx]

Spy Games [Chapter 1] : More Than It Seems

Characters: Twice Momo, Male Reader

4579 words

Authors Note: This is literally the first fiction writing I have done since I was a little kid writing stories about a town full of hamburgers. I was inspired to try my hand at writing by the plethora of amazing kpop smut writers out there right now, but by @lockefanfic​, @nsfwtwicecatcher​, @nsfwflint​, and @ggidolsmuts​ in particular. If there are any similarities between my writing and theirs, please forgive me as I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit “researching” their work. 

One thing that amazes me is how the hell everyone cranks out thousands of words with such frequency, as this post isn’t even 5k and it took forever to write. I can’t begin to explain how much respect I have for all the authors out there who can write so much and maintain such high levels of quality.

As a new writer, I welcome any and all feedback! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any critiques, or if you just want to chat!

***

“Coming up on the target now.” 

“Roger that, remember the office is on the top floor. Let us know when you’re inside. And remember, no elevators...” teases your handler, Choa.

“Thanks for the reminder,” you reply sarcastically.

You survey the skyscraper against the night sky--it would be impressive if it weren’t one of a hundred just like it downtown Seoul--and wonder what you had done to deserve getting the short end of the stick. Of course, you knew there was a reason to avoid the elevators: they sat directly in front of the building’s concierge and the cameras in the lobby, while the stairwell lay in a remote part of the first floor. The logic behind your impending hike didn’t make the reality any less abhorrent.

“Meanwhile, Seolhyun gets to infiltrate an organization in the Caymans. Just my fucking luck.” you grumble to yourself.

“Oh, stop whining, you big baby,” says Choa, reminding you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

You sneak past the lobby and towards the back of the floor you find the entrance to the stairwell in a poorly lit area.

“Beginning my climb.” you report, shaking out your legs as you prepare to go up.

“Sir, I-I’m getting some interference over comms,” chimes in the timid voice of the girl you knew to be your newest team member, Yoo Jeongyeon. “It could just be local chatter, but I want to make sure it’s not someone trying to listen in.”

“Probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to worry about.” Choa assures you. 

As you climb up the stairs, you wonder why anyone would want to listen in on this particular mission. This was a run-of-the-mill operation to investigate money laundering at an accounting firm. You’d infiltrated foreign governments, broken into and bugged the offices of billionaire CEOs, and tailed enemy agents. You could understand people wanting to hear those comms, but this? Either someone wanted something to listen to as a sleep aid, or this mission was more interesting than it looked.

A tip had come in through one of the new girls at the Intel Desk reporting that there was some fishy activity related to organized crime going on at the accounting firm. This was routine and you’d gone on dozens of similar recon missions before: break in, find suspicious intel, get out. But if someone wanted so badly to hear what was going on, the new girl may have stumbled onto something worthy of a promotion. Hayoung, you think her name was. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair along with her well-endowed physique reminded you of a young mother, but her mature beauty belied her young age. You had caught yourself more than a few times fantasizing about her in your off hours…

You stop mid-way in the stairwell, scolding yourself for losing focus. Too often over the course of the last year you found yourself fantasizing about the women in your life. Sure, before the incident with Eunha you had sexual thoughts about your coworkers--you were surrounded by beautiful women, after all. But recently you noticed that your life was increasingly preoccupied with sex: both in your thoughts and the real-life exploits you carried out. 

Much longer than a few minutes later, you reach the 63rd floor out of breath and sweating, wishing more than ever that it was you and not Seolhyun lounging on the beach. You take a moment to compose yourself before peeking out into the office floor to see if the coast is clear.

“We may have a problem, boss. Jeongyeon looked into the comms disturbance and someone much more sophisticated than the average joe is definitely trying to tap in,” Choa says. “Jeongyeon’s kicking their ass right now blocking their access, but there’s only so much she can do alone. Eventually we’re going to lose control of this channel.”

“Dammit. I knew something was off with this op,” you grumble. “If they want to listen in to whatever I find, it must be important. We’ll go dark. Recon says this should be a quick in and out anyways. I’ll tag you once I’m out.”

“Be careful. Signal us if anything goes wrong. Just don’t do anything stupid.” replies Choa. 

“What do you think they pay me all this money for?” you tease, wanting to put her nerves at ease. “See you on the other side. Over and out.”

You could hear the concern in her voice. Even though keeping you safe was part of her job, you knew she cared about you. You also knew as well as she did that anything could go wrong even in the five minutes it would take you to break in, especially when it appeared that someone knew exactly what you were doing.

You switch off your comms link and head out the door and into the office.

It looked exactly as you expected--rows and rows of non-descript cubicles, with a princely office lined with glass walls occupying the far corner. Jeongyeon had retrieved the floor plan by hacking into the building’s security database earlier in the week, and you knew after her effort tonight in detecting and fending off the comms interference that Choa would want you to acknowledge the work the new girl had been putting in. She certainly was more skilled than the five previous team members you’d fired after Eunha, but you found it difficult to bring yourself to praise her. The Ops Officer position she occupied was a sore point for you, after all.

You deftly pick the lock on the corner office door and immediately sit down in front of the terminal on the desk, logging in with the security bypass Jeongyeon drew up. 

Again your thoughts drift to Eunha. Eunha was your longtime Ops Officer--highly skilled, you trusted her more than anyone. It also helped that she was your fiance. It made you sad to think about her; about what could have been, what should have been. Over the past year, you were constantly reminded of her absence by the utter incompetence of her replacements. You suppose it was nice that at the very least, Jeongyeon didn’t give you many opportunities to bemoan her performance in the same way--to remind you of Eunha.

You shake your head, compelling yourself to rise out of your funk and get on with the mission.

As you scroll through files, you stop on one with a familiar signature. Reading its contents, your eyes open wider--suddenly you understand why someone would be interested to listen in to your communications. You quickly save the file to your flash drive and stand up to leave, only to be startled by a figure in the doorway.

“Care to tell me what’s on that?” comes a familiar voice from the darkness that you knew to be Hirai Momo’s. Momo was an agent for a foreign espionage agency--you had as friendly a rivalry as you could have when working for different governments. 

“What was the point of trying to hack our comms if you were just going to show up and ask me that?”

“I had no intention of coming until you decided to ghost your girlfriends,” teases Momo. “Besides, I like showing you how much better I am at sneaking around.”

Momo flicks on the light and she comes into focus. The Japanese government made a good decision when they hired her, you think. She was built for the job of a seductive spy. Her perfectly toned legs had a lovely sheen all the way up to her short skirt, while her cleavage suggested that her tits were ready to burst out of her tight, patterned blouse. Where most of your attention was drawn, however, was her lustrous blue hair, which fell to her shoulders.

“I may actually need your help with this, once you see what’s on it,” you say, nodding your head at the flash drive.

“Oh, so you’re willing to give it to me? I thought I was going to have to fuck you for it,” she says sarcastically. You knew behind the humor was more than a nugget of truth, though. Sex had been the primary vehicle for information trading with Momo over the years. You decide to test your reading of the situation.

“Just because I need your help doesn’t mean I’m giving it for free…”

Momo brings her thumb to her mouth and bites gently as she ponders your not-so-subtle proposition. She takes her turn to look you up and down, making you feel more than a little self conscious in her gaze of judgment. After so many years in the dangerous world of espionage, there were only a handful women who could make you feel so small. Then again, Momo was no regular girl. 

Once she’s satisfied she has properly appraised your worth, Momo lets go of her thumb and straightens her blouse.

“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly, “let’s get to it,” unbuttoning her blouse as she walks towards you.

You are surprised by the lack of fight she put up, but you thought it best to keep that to yourself. Her tone reminds you of a business meeting--that is, if you hadn’t seen her pull her top off as she approached you. She sits in your lap on the chair, wrapping her arms around your neck as you meet her lips for a kiss. Momo’s mouth was familiar to you, introduced to you many times throughout your career. It seemed like every time you ran across her you had sex. One thing you adored about your relationship with her was that it was absolutely without strings attached. You fucked for work, but just because it was part of the job didn’t mean you both didn’t enjoy it. 

Momo, however, was loath to admit the pleasure she got out of her liaisons with you. Call it pride, call it being professional, whatever--Momo refused to act like sex with you was anything other than work, no different than working in a spreadsheet.

You feel her reach down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them as she sinks to her knees in front of you. You smirk--her eagerness to please you betrayed her air of ambivalence.

Momo wastes no time getting down to business. You are certain the Japanese trained her very well in tender foreplay, but it seems she doesn’t care much for subtlety at the moment. Instead, she utilizes a more direct method to extract your pleasure--one that must have required its own fair share of training--as she spits on your cock before immediately forcing it as deeply in her mouth as she can take it. One, two, three bobs is all it takes for her to reach the base of your cock, her nose buried in your pelvis.

“Fuuuck me, that’s good,” you groan as you hold her head in place for several seconds, and Momo replies in turn with a cough that spits a healthy serving of saliva on to your cock. You release your grip on the back of her head to give her a chance to breathe, but she surprises you when she simply continues to work her mouth on your increasingly saliva-drenched cock, swirling her tongue around your base. Most of the other women you had slept with in recent months would be gasping for air by now, but Momo’s demeanor was cool, calm, and collected. Almost as if she was reading your mind, Momo paused her slurping and pulled her mouth off your shaft--but not forgetting to continue stroking it with achingly deft corkscrew motions.

“What’s the matter? Girls in your department not able to take care of your cock like a real woman?” Momo clicks her tongue and grins. “I’ve told you for years, you’d never be treated so poorly if you came to work for a professional outfit like ours.”

“Shut up and suck my cock.”

Momo shrugs, and gets back to the task at hand. Slobbering even more as she takes you into your mouth again, you pause to thank your lucky stars that you had a job that paid you in part to fuck women like Momo. You gaze upon her face, which has become just as messy as your cock. Momo’s sloppy blowjob has not only left liberal amounts of spit on your cock, but on her face as well--with strands of her blue hair plastered to her cheeks. Even though you thought it impossible, you feel your cock get harder at the sight of Momo’s messy face.

For several minutes, Momo continues inhaling your cock as you find yourself nearing the point of no return, you yank Momo’s head off your throbbing cock in order to prolong your session. A bit too forcefully, it seems, as Momo falls over onto her side.

“What the fuck!” yelps Momo as she picks herself back up, glaring at you. “I suck your cock and you thank me by throwing me on the ground?

“I didn’t mean to, I’m just not ready to cum yet. We both know you would’ve ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Momo replies sheepishly. You knew from previous run-ins with her that she loved nothing more than swallowing cum. Even though you had just denied her that favor, you were already thinking about how to make it up to her in a few minutes.

“How about I repay your kindness? Get up on the table and let me eat you.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I’ll get up on the table, but you’re going to fuck me.”

“Someone’s eager to see what’s in this thumb drive,” you tease, inadvertently reminding yourself that this was a transactional liaison. You suspected that Momo’s interest in you extended beyond her desire for the information at hand, and part of you yearned to take her outside of the confines of work. You’re skeptical such a day would ever come, however, given how ambitious Momo was. 

You knew her story--she applied for a job in the Japanese spy agency several years ago, making it all the way through the process before being cut at the very end. She ended up receiving an offer shortly after one of the other finalists died in a ‘training accident’, but Momo lived with a chip on her shoulder ever since. She lived and worked with a pathological drive to prove the agency wrong in their original decision to cut her. Already the youngest lead operative in her country’s history, she had an eye on the directorship and seemed destined for it. So, you supposed, it was nice to be able to fuck her before she became famous.

Momo hops on up on the desk, hiking up her skirt to reveal a delicious-looking blue thong that matches her hair. She looks behind towards you with lust heavy in her eyes as she pulls her thong to the side, revealing her glistening pussy--already dripping, you noted.

“I don’t have all night.”

More than happy to oblige, you line your painfully throbbing cock up with her pussy and you can feel the warmth radiating from it. You take a second to appreciate Momo’s incredible physique as your hands graze downward from her upper back, to her hips, and finally to her ass. As you rub it, you cannot help but appreciate how sublimely taut it is. 

“Jeeze, you act like this is the first time you’ve seen a woman naked,” Momo jabs, interrupting your reverie.

You are starting to get annoyed with Momo’s demeanor. It was nothing new, really--she always carried an air of superiority--but it nonetheless grates on your nerves to see her be so dismissive. You are mature enough to understand that at least a part of this aggravation had to do with the fact that you knew Momo slept with plenty of men for work. Not so mature, however, to be able to stifle the primal urge deep inside of you that wanted Momo to see you as the best of all her lovers. More than ever, it seemed that sexual vanity mattered a great deal to your self-confidence.

With a renewed sense of purpose and your cock in hand, you enter Momo slowly with a long stroke until you fill her to the hilt. In unison with your initial insertion, Momo lets out a whine that crescendos as you bottom out.

As you begin to thrust in and out Momo settles in and widens her stance ever so little, which has the added benefit of allowing you to go even deeper into her warm, wet pussy. Momo was not a girl of surprises. Her face was gorgeous, capable of angelic beauty and fiery lust. Her body reflected the many hours she spent in the gym with ample breasts, insanely tight abs, and a toned ass to match. Her pussy feels exactly as sublime as her beautiful face and incredible body suggested. The perfect combination for a woman who used her body to seduce and take advantage of brainless men. You decide to push out your mind the realization that at this very moment, you are in fact one of those men.

You wanted to make sure Momo felt each and every drive into her hot flesh. Momo continued to moan quietly, each breath punctuated with a new thrust and the sound of your skin meeting hers.

“Looks like someone’s gotten real quiet all of a sudden,” you say, noticing her haughty attitude had subsided as pleasure took you both over.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Momo says, looking back at you with rekindled determination in her eyes, “you’re no better than half the guys I’ve been with. I’m here for the file, not for whatever you call this.” She cooly turns her head to face front again, leaving you seething.

Your twinge of annoyance was now a bubbling boil.

You slow down before withdrawing your cock from her warmth--Momo lets out the faintest whine of disappointment, betraying her dissatisfied front.

Just as Momo turns her head again to complain, you quickly slam your cock deep inside her. Momo yelps, and you notice her eyes bulge as you move your hips in a circular motion with your cock filled to the hilt, scraping deep inside her pussy. After several seconds of this you grab a makeshift ponytail out of her hair and yank backwards, causing her to gasp and arch her back instinctively. As much as she bothered you with her air of indifference, you had to admit that the image in front of you was the stuff of dreams.

Taking advantage of the highly erotic sight before you and the increased leverage offered by your grasp of her hair, you began to truly fuck her with quick and powerful strokes.

“Take it, Momo,” you grunted, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.

Momo said nothing, emitting only breathless gasps from her open mouth. You noticed that their intensity was gradually increasing, so you increased the speed of your shaft penetrating her young, sinful body. You knew she was enjoying this, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you broke her facade. You wanted her to lose herself to you.

You speed up even more, and the volume of your skin slapping together increases as her pussy drips wetter and wetter, mixing with your leaking precum. You are slamming your cock into her now, and Momo has to grab on to the table to steady herself. Slowly but surely her pretense was crumbling.

“You want it, don’t you Momo? You want more?”

“Fuck yeah,” Momo gasps hoarsely, struggling to speak with her hair being pulled, “Give it to me...o-oh...fuck, give it to me!”

Satisfied that she had succumbed to her pleasure, you relax your grip on her hair slightly and lean over to growl in her ear.

“I’ll give it to you. I’m gonna make sure you remember this, make sure every time you’re with another man you wish it was me.”

Momo acknowledges your promise with a deep groan, giving you great pleasure as you resumed fucking her gorgeous body.

Your eyes drift downward to her glorious ass, now shining with sweat and jiggling violently with each crash of your cock inside her. Inspired by the sight, you release her hair and put one hand on her hip and begin striking her ass with your other. Momo shrieks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with lidded eyes while biting her lip to tell you she wanted more.

Again you oblige, and it was quickly becoming clear that lust and pleasure were staging a coup of Momo’s senses. She’s making lots of noise, but nothing intelligible. Nothing but guttural moans interspersed with high-pitched squeals. You continue spanking her ass, alternating cheeks--noticing a deep pink beginning to form on both. She’d most likely be dealing with soreness for several days after this, you think.

“You wanna cum, Momo? Cum for me, I know you want to.”

“Mmmmm...Ah, ah, AH! Unggghh,” comes Momo’s response.

“Come on Momo, fucking cum baby...cum all over this cock,” you shout, sincerely hoping there was no one working in an adjacent floor to hear.

“FUUUUCK!” Momo screams eloquently, suddenly dropping her head as her body begins convulsing. You knew what to expect having slept with her before, but you are nonetheless surprised to see how completely overtaken her body was by pleasure. Her upper body jerks spastically as her legs tremble with your cock plunged deep inside her pussy, all the while letting out a high-pitched whine that turns into a soft whimper. Just a few minutes before she was defiant and happy to throw insults at you...now she was a mewling, writhing mess incapable of speaking. The dark, primal part of you is satisfied by her tacit recognition of your talent.

After a short while, Momo begins to compose herself and lifts her upper body from the table. You take it as a sign to slowly resume taking your cock in and out of her. You decide to give her now glowing pink ass a rest and caress her back, tracing long lines with your nails.

“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Momo says, her eyes still closed, “you fuck me so good.”

You slowly begin ramping up the pace, rolling your hips with each stroke. You want to make sure your cock pleases every inch of Momo’s pussy, and make sure it craves you when she’s alone at night. 

After several minutes of this tender, softer version of lovemaking, Momo comes back to her senses. She arches her back again and turns her head to gaze in your eyes as you continue to take her. She begins to move her ass back and forth on your cock in unison with your own strokes.

“Oh my god, you feel so good in my fucking pussy! Every...fucking...stroke!” Momo gasps, the final words punctuated by the force of her majestic ass crashing against your cock.

“You’re a bad girl, Momo,” you tease, “you like being taken and shown who’s boss, don’t you? You like me grabbing your hair and slapping your ass?”

“Yes!” she gasps, “Yes I love it! Mmmmm...I want you to fuck me until you cum. Fuck me until you cum!”

There was no command in the world easier to follow.

Satisfied that you had fulfilled your vain, immature desire to see her acknowledge your skill as a lover, you now focus yourself on extracting pleasure from the young woman beneath you. You settle into a pace with rough strokes, fiercely pounding her over and over. Your pleasure rises with each thrust, aided not only by the mindblowing caress of her pussy, but by the incredible sight of Momo on all fours before you moaning with each strike of your cock inside her.

“Fuck Momo...I don’t think I have much longer, I’m gonna fucking cum so hard!”

“Yes,” comes the response from Momo, “Yes, yes! Fucking cum baby, I want your cum so bad!”

A few more thrusts and you can feel the point of no return coming. For a brief moment you contemplate cumming inside Momo, to truly claim her. You quickly reconsider, wanting to give her what she truly wanted--to swallow your load.

And so, you quickly withdraw your cock from Momo’s now sopping wet pussy and she instinctively turns around and drops to her knees on the floor. Stroking your cock with great fervor, her mouth wide open begging for what was to come.

“Please give me your cum, please, please! I want it...I need it! Cum for me!”

Your head tilts backward as a long groan escapes your lips. Your cum explodes from your shaft, shooting long, thick ropes of semen into her mouth and onto her cheeks and nose. Over and over, your cum splashes on her beautiful face until you finally reach the end of your orgasm, panting and exhausted. Momo’s face is a pornographic picture of lust, her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she swallows the mass of cum you deposited in her mouth.

“I fucking love your cum,” Momo says as she wipes the remaining cum off her face with her finger and promptly brings it to her tongue before swallowing it down as well.

“I’m glad we were both able to get what we wanted,” you say, struggling to catch your breath.

“Speaking of getting what I wanted…” Momo says, nodding her head to the part of the floor where the USB drive now sits, evidently thrown from the table during the session that had just taken place.

“Right,” you say, suddenly remembering you’re here for work, “make a copy and let’s get out of here.”

“Great,” says Momo, still on the floor with a satisfied smile of content on her face, “Hey, I meant what I said about having you join our team. As much shit as I give you, we could really use someone with your talent.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m better off staying put. Don’t think the Korean government would let me live if I tried defecting.”

“Probably true,” says Momo as she begins picking up her clothes, “Never hurts to ask, though.”

***

A few minutes later, you and Momo had both gotten dressed and copied the file onto a drive for her. Momo disappeared into an adjoining hallway and you set off to traverse the stairwell again. As you prepare yourself for the descent, you also steel yourself for the repercussions of giving the intel to a foreign spy agency. With the information you saw in the file, you knew the Japanese would have to be looped in sooner or later. If it was going to happen eventually, you thought it made the most sense to entrust that intel to the agent on the other side you knew would make sure things got done correctly. As logical as it seemed to you, however, you knew it wouldn’t be taken well back at the office.

You click on your comms link, now knowing there’s nothing to fear. 

“Hey Choa, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous.”

“Oh thank god! That took forever, I was about to call for a tac team!” Choa sighs with audible relief, “I take it you got everything you needed?”

“Got more than I needed, actually,” you say, nervous about Choa’s reaction to what you say next, “Listen, there’s one small thing you should know...”

“You did WHAT?!”

[angelofrainfrogs]

We Found Him, Superstar: Ch. 9

Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Since starting his new afterlife at the Pizzaplex, Gregory has managed to befriend the Glamrock animatronics and made a surprising discovery—Bonnie’s been hidden in the basement warehouse this entire time, badly decommissioned but still powered on. Along with Bonnie are the endoskeletons that, no longer under the virus’s control, seem much more sentient than normal animatronics… Gregory and his friends are determined to get Bonnie back into commission and figure out the mysteries of what exactly these endoskeletons are—and how to help them, too.

Chapter Summary: Bonnie’s first set of repairs was a success, and with the night guards on administrative leave the group is free of their watchful eyes for the night. Gregory decides to visit Sun to thank him for his help, and while he’s there gets the chance opportunity to meet the nighttime counterpart… if he’s up to it, of course.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38728158/chapters/101220492

The day passed without any major events, although there were some hushed conversations between the technicians about how the two night guards were found huddled together in the daycare play structure. They were apparently extremely jumpy, nearly denting Sun’s face with a flashlight when the animatronic tried to pull them out, and to avoid anymore potential damage management gave them a rare night off to recover.

Soon enough, the Pizzaplex closed and the animatronics were free to roam again. Freddy stepped out of his room, Gregory’s hand in his as the pair traveled to the basement. They were the first to arrive, and when they stepped out of the elevator Bonnie ran over excitedly to greet them.

“Hey, guys!” the bunny exclaimed, sliding to a halt a few inches away.

“Hi, Bonnie! You still look great!” Gregory said, letting go of Freddy’s hand to run over and hug the rabbit’s leg. He soon let go, resting his hands on his hips and staring up at him. “And tonight Roxy’s gonna fix your face and you’ll be even better!”

“Thanks, bud!” Bonnie replied with a laugh, lightly patting Gregory’s back before he let go. “I’m definitely gonna take you guys bowling before the week is out—I’ve gotta see if Fredbear’s beaten my high score yet…”

“It has remained untouched,” Freddy replied, chuckling as well. He looked down at Gregory, tilting his head. “Well, Gregory, you have some options for what to do tonight! The guards are apparently taking the evening off, so there is no need to worry about a distraction while Bonnie is being repaired.”

While the animatronics were talking, Gregory was starting down a dark hall which led to a labyrinth of other rooms and passageways. He could've sworn he'd seen someone staring them down, but… it must have been his imagination. There was no one down here but the endoskeletons and Bonnie. He lifted his head as he heard his name, smiling softly.

“Hm...” Gregory gave a shrug. “Maybe we can play Fazerblast—or we could even show Bonnie around the Pizzaplex so he can see what's changed! Oh, and he can see all the toys I got!”

Freddy laughed again, giving the boy’s hand a squeeze. “Let us wait until Bonnie is fully repaired before showing him around—perhaps we will be able to do that tomorrow, based on how much Roxy was able to get done yesterday.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty fast!” Bonnie agreed, meeting Gregory’s gaze. “We’ll try tomorrow, bud, how’s that?”

Gregory smiled, lifting two thumbs up. “Sounds fine by me! As long as it happens, I don't mind when!”

“Wonderful!” Freddy hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose we can still play Fazerblast, although we would need two others to make the teams even…”

“Not to spoil your fun, but Roxy said she wanted a back-up, remember?” Bonnie piped up. “Just in case she needs someone to run and get extra part or something.”

As if summoned by Bonnie’s words, the elevators opened and the rest of the animatronics stepped out. Freddy lifted Gregory up as everyone greeted each other, then addressed the boy in his arms: “It looks like it is just the two of us tonight, superstar. What would you like to do?” He paused, tilting his head in thought. “We could always visit Sun—he would probably appreciate the reassurance that you are alright. Not to mention that we can thank him for unintentionally being a part of our plan last night!”

“Hmm... We can visit Sun, I guess,” Gregory agreed.

Chica smiled, wrapping an arm around Bonnie’s shoulders. “Bon-Bon’s gonna look brand new, just you two wait!”

“I’ll call you as soon as we’re done—here, Roxy, let me show you all the stuff we found!” Bonnie said, giving Freddy and Gregory a wave before his attention was diverted by Roxy looking around for parts.

“Cool, thanks Bonnie; good luck with Sun, kid!” the wolf added, shooting Gregory a grin.

“Hey, can I get more toys from the gift shop after? I gave most of mine to the kids,” Gregory asked Freddy as they traveled back up to surface level. “I also wanna see if they have any new cool shirts!”

“Yes, of course!” the bear nodded. “I believe I overheard some children begging their parents for some of the ‘awesome new patterns,’ so I think we have gotten a new shipment of merchandise in stock!”

“Yessss! Thanks, Freddy!” Gregory chirped, giving his caretaker a little squeeze. Moments later, the pair found themselves in front of the daycare. Freddy took them through both sets of large garage-style doors, pausing when they got into the main drop-off area. To their relief, the lights were all on.

“Hmm…,” Freddy hummed, peering down into the play area. “I wonder where Sun is...”

“I think I can call him over!” Gregory said, wriggling until Freddy set him down. He ran to the slide and leaned into it, clearing his throat before calling out: “Hey, Sun! It's me, Gregory! This time I promise I'll play with you!”

A sudden frantic jingling signaled the arrival of the daycare attendant, who appeared from around the side of the closest play structure.

“Gregory!” the animatronic exclaimed, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. He jumped up and down trying to see the boy around the slide, but he was only able to spot the waving bear. “Hi, Freddy! Oh, Gregory, I’m so glad you’re okay! You’re okay, right?!”

“I'm okay! And so is Freddy,” the boy replied as he sat in the slide before pushing himself down. He held his arms up over his head as he plopped into the ball pit with a shriek of excitement. He could practically live in it if the threat of Sun pulling him out didn’t exist—not to mention Moon in his entirety.

Speaking of that… as soon as Gregory emerged from the ball pit, Sun scooped him up and held him in a tight hug.

“Ooh, I was so worried about you!” he said, squeezing the boy as he rocked from side to side. “I didn’t mean to tell those guards about you last night… I didn’t know you were supposed to be a secret until it was too late!”

“We are okay, Sun; it was not your fault,” Freddy reassured, quickly making his way through the main entrance and stopping next to the tall animatronic’s side.

“We didn't tell you it was a secret. Friends forgive friends, right?” Gregory insisted, hoping that Sun wasn't being too hard on himself. “So don't worry... Besides, you did a great job distracting them for a while.”

“Mmph… well, okay,” Sun relented, holding Gregory out at arms’ length. “You’re just such an adorable little ray of sunshine, and I couldn’t stand to see anything happen to you!” He gasped dramatically and began jumping from foot to foot, unintentionally squeezing Gregory a little more in his excitement. “OOH! I’ve been trying to figure out a nickname for you for ages, but I’ve got it—sunshine!” He laughed. “It was so obvious!”

Gregory slightly winced as he was squeezed tighter, resting his hands against Sun's forearms. Freddy moved along with the animatronic, confident that he wouldn’t drop Gregory but keeping his arms up just in case.

“I thought ‘Greg’ would be a lot more obvious, if anything...” the boy murmured, glancing down at the bear. “But everything’s all good! And Freddy always protects me so I'm safest with him!”

“I don’t doubt that!” Sun agreed with a laugh. It was then that he finally noticed Freddy desperately reaching for his son. “Oh! You want your kid back? Here you go!” Carefully, Sun lowered Gregory back into the bear’s arms.  

“Thank you!” Freddy replied, relief evident in his tone as Gregory was returned to him. “And I wanted to thank you as well for helping last night; we are working on a surprise that we hope to share with you in the near future, and it is beneficial to keep the night guards distracted until we are finished!”

“A surprise?!” Sun clapped his hands. “Ooh, what is it, what is it?!”

“If we tell you, it won’t be a surprise!” Gregory said with a proud grin.

“I’m so excited!” Sun exclaimed, then crouched slightly to be on Gregory’s level. “For now, do you want to play a game?! We could play hide and seek, tag, red light green light, or we could draw… whatever you want! There’s tons of options!”

The boy tilted his head, a small hum leaving his lips. “I've only ever played hide and seek…”

“Oh, there’s so many fun games I can teach you!” Sun replied. “I have access to a huge database of children’s games for all occasions! But I’ll start with the two I mentioned: tag is pretty easy—you pick a person to be ‘it,’ and they chase everyone else around and try to tag them by tapping them! Red light, green light is when one person stands on the other side of the room with their back turned, and everyone else tries to sneak up on them and tag them on the back. However, if the person who’s ‘it’ turns around, everyone has to freeze in place! If you’re caught moving, you’re out!” He lightly hopped from foot to foot. “Do either of those sound fun? We could also just run around in the play place or ball pit, if you want to do that instead!”

Gregory listened intently as the daycare attendant explain the games. He believed Sun and Freddy would easily beat him at everything since they were quite fast, but it’d still be fun nonetheless.

“Hmm... Let's play tag, then?” he offered, curious to see how this game would turn out.

“Yaaaaay!” Sun cheered, clapping his hands a few times before eagerly adding: “You can be ‘it’ first, Gregory! Freddy and I will try not to be caught!”

Luckily for Gregory, the animatronics were able to adjust their physical outputs—speed, in this case—to match whatever task they were doing. Freddy met Sun’s gaze with a grin, and the animatronics silently agreed to make sure they ran fast enough to give Gregory a challenge, but still make it possible for him to actually catch them.

Freddy set the boy down, patting his head once before shifting into a running stance. “Alright, superstar, we will start moving when you say ‘go!’”

“Okay!” Gregory looked between the two animatronics before throwing his hands up. “Go!” He watched them run off and decided to go for the closest one, which was Sun.

The attendant heard the footsteps approaching and picked up the pace, leading Gregory in a zig-zag pattern around the play structures. After a few minutes he tried to take a detour through one of the foam block pits, but got so distracted trying not to trip that he slowed again. Soon enough, he felt a small hand tap his leg.

“You got me!” Sun exclaimed, turning to face Gregory, then let out a little gasp. “Oh my goodness, I forgot to tell you the one other rule about playing tag! Once you get someone, then that person becomes ‘it!’” He paused, his static grin seeming to widen as he slowly, playfully reached forward. “So… I’d get a move on, if I were you!”

Gregory was a bit confused as Sun began explaining another rule, although it soon clicked and he immediately started running in the opposite direction. He instinctively made a beeline towards Freddy, subconsciously wanting his protection, but realized that the bear was quite far away and made a split-second decision to crawl inside the closest play structure instead.  

As Gregory scrambled inside a plastic tube, Sun set his sights on Freddy. The bear’s eyes widened as he saw Sun coming for him, both of them picking up speed since they were no longer keeping pace with a human. Eventually, Sun caught Freddy on the shoulder with a laugh, and the pair paused to catch their nonexistent breath.

“My turn!” Freddy announced, looking around. He knew Gregory was hiding somewhere inside the play structure, but he wasn’t able to see him from where he was… not that he’d be able to crawl in after, anyway.

“You can't find me!” the boy called out, not realizing he’d exposed his hiding spot in his excitement.

Freddy instantly honed in on Gregory’s voice. He caught a flash of red inside the leftmost structure—a tiny shoe! Freddy couldn’t climb in, but he might be able to tap Gregory if he could reach far enough… As he got to the side of the structure, he reached his fingers through the netting, trying as hard as he could to touch Gregory’s shoe with the tips of his claws.

“Hey, no fair!” the boy giggled as he pulled his legs in underneath himself once he felt the tap.

“You are the one that hid where you thought we could not reach!” Freddy replied playfully. He then turned, waving at Sun. “Gregory is it again!” Then Freddy took off, ready for the boy to give chase again.

***

They played a few more rounds before deciding to take a break. Freddy and Sun sat against a wall, legs stretched out in front of them while Gregory perched on the bear’s lap.

“That was fun!” Freddy laughed. “I have not played tag in such a long time!”

“Mhm! Lots of fun,” Gregory agreed, resting his face against Freddy’s chest and appreciating the animatronic’s coolness after all that running around.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed the game!” Sun cheered, throwing his hands in the air. There was a moment of quiet before the attendant spoke again, now clasping his hands in his lap. “Hey, sunshine, can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, what is it?” Gregory asked, turning his body to look at Sun curiously. Freddy had a feeling he knew what this was about, but chose to let the other two speak. The decision of whether he should make an appearance was completely up to Gregory, after all.

“I’m sooo glad we’re friends now and we’re over what happened during our first meeting!” Sun began, wringing his hands nervously. “But… there’s someone else who really, really wants to talk to you and apologize for scaring you so much.” He paused again, hoping Gregory would be receptive to his idea. “…Would it be okay if Moon came out for a little bit? I promise he’s okay! Plus, you have Freddy with you, and if you ever get too nervous, you can just flip the lights on! I’ll be expecting it, so it won’t bother me at all if you need to!”

Freddy remained silent, giving Gregory a little squeeze of reassurance. He always found it odd that Sun referred to his alter ego in third person—not to mention his dramatics when switching over unexpectedly—but he’d long-since learned not to question it.

Gregory was silent for a moment as he thought hard about Sun’s proposition. Eventually, he gave a shrug, knowing he’d have to face the other animatronic sooner or later—best to do it when Freddy was here to protect him instead of risking their encounter happening unexpectedly.

“I guess… as long as he won't scare me,” Gregory agreed slowly as he placed an instinctive hand on Freddy’s chest in case he needed to jump into the hatch. “Or crawl, or fly…”

Sun made a noncommittal noise. “Erm… I don’t think he’ll fly, but no guarantees about the crawling…” Then Sun jumped to his feet, bending down briefly to pinch Gregory’s cheek. “But this is fantastic! You’re so great, sunshine! Give me just a few minutes, then you can turn off the lights!”

With that, he scampered back to his room next to the ball pit, hoisting himself up using the little stage before disappearing through the closed curtains. Freddy let out a small sigh, wrapping his arms around Gregory protectively and standing up. He found it fascinating that such an advanced animatronic like Sun also came with so many quirks...

“We will use the light switch this time, how about that?” Freddy asked, walking Gregory over to the security desk. Staying in this area would also provide ambient lighting so Moon likely wouldn’t want to cross the threshold behind the desk, giving them a “safe space.”

“Okay…,” Gregory mumbled softly, gripping onto Freddy’s shoulders as he walked. He couldn’t tell if it would be better or worse for both daycare attendants to be out at the same time. “Oh… last time, I used my flashlight to keep him away. I didn’t always work, but… it kinda did?”

“Oh, yes—I am sure Moon is a fan of that either,” Freddy agreed. He knew that Moon honestly wouldn’t do anything to cause harm now that the virus was gone, but Gregory had been so frightened by Sun’s other persona that Freddy completely understood the boy’s hesitancy.

“Okay, go ahead and hit the lights!” came Sun’s voice from the direction of the ball pit. Freddy met Gregory’s gaze, holding him close, and slowly flipped the switch.

Gregory took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. Once they were opened, he realized the daycare was now completely dark except for the glowing stars on the ceiling. Despite this, he could see something in the far back seeming to be... hopping over. The animatronic was taking long strides with each step, making it to the pair in a matter of seconds.

“Ohhh, Gregory! You've finally decided to come say hi, ehehehe?” Moon asked as he approached, easily leaning his tall body over the desk. It seemed he didn’t mind the ambient lighting as much as he had the other night, though he made a point not to go behind the desk. Unfortunately his static grin was still eerie despite meaning well, and Gregory simply stared up at the animatronic for a moment before hiding his face in Freddy's shoulder.

“Oh goodness,” Freddy murmured, rubbing soothing circles against the boy’s back and flashing Moon an apologetic smile. “Hello, Moon. Please do not mind him; Gregory is still a bit shy. I have not seen you in quite some time, though—I trust you are feeling well?”

“I understand,” Moon said, his grin remaining prominent as he tilted his head slightly. “Of course I feel well, ehehehe! Better than well, even!” He gripped the edge of the desk, using its leverage to hop up and down. “Sun told me I was being very off a little while ago, but I don’t remember anything—I barely even remember Gregory, in fact! Do you recall anything... off, little starlight?”

Gregory lifted his head slowly, nervously lowering his gaze. “Um... Yeah, sort of, I guess…”

Freddy’s head bobbed up and down as he tracked Moon’s movements. He knew the daycare attendant had to be super active to deal with all the small children, but sometimes it felt like the techs went a little overboard with their programming…

“Gregory told me that you, um… chased him,” Freddy clarified, choosing his words carefully. This animatronic was still Sun at its core, and was therefore prone to reacting to things dramatically. Moon suddenly froze in his tracks, humming to himself as he tried to recall what transpired the last time he’d seen the boy.

“...Maybe,” he answered simply, then reached his lanky arm forward to pat Gregory's head. “That's what you do when you play games, isn't it, ehehehe? I really don't remember, in all honesty… I hope I didn't scare him too bad!”

Freddy glanced worriedly between the pair as Moon patted Gregory’s head, and though the boy flinched he didn’t show any signs of major distress. “Thank you, Moon. We know you do not remember and that is alright; we appreciate you speaking with us again now!” He gave a small laugh. “Gregory has already spent some time with your other half, as you know, so we wanted to make sure you were not missing out on each other’s company too much!”

Moon sighed, nodding in understanding. He knew he wouldn’t get as much time to spend with Gregory by default, which honestly saddened him somewhat—Sun always hogged the attention. Nonetheless, he hoped to make up for whatever he’d done to make the boy so frightened.

“He's a very sweet boy from what I've heard from Sun,” Moon mentioned, and Gregory warily lifted his head to look back at him.

“He talks about me?” the boy asked curiously, to which Moon immediately nodded.

“Of course, ehehehe! He's pretty annoying about it, especially since I don't get to see you often.”

Freddy wondered what that looked like—Sun talking to a mirror? He laughed softly, hugging Gregory closer. “Gregory helped us all greatly, and continues to do so. He is my superstar!”

Gregory's smile seemed to have brightened, tightening his hold on Freddy. “And Freddy is the best dad ever!”

“Aww, how sweet!” Moon cooed. “Well, Sun’s right—you’re an adorable kid.”

Freddy absolutely beamed at the compliments to his son like the proud papa bear he was. After a moment, he let out a small gasp and added: “Oh, thank you also for, ah… playing with the guards last night. We know it was a surprise, but they have been quite attentive and we appreciated having them off our tails for an evening.”

“Oh! Why of course! I don't mind wandering the Pizzaplex if need be... They were very entertaining, ehehehe…,” Moon mentioned with a low snicker, rubbing his hands together.

Gregory didn't seem to like the idea of Moon free-roaming all too much, quickly shaking his head as his eyes grew wide. “It's fine, really!”

“It is still rather bright around the building; I do not know if you would enjoy it,” Freddy added quickly. “But we will definitely try to visit you more in the daycare! Maybe we can bring some of the others next time as well; I do not know when some of them saw you last…”

“Oooh, yes! Excellent!” the tall animatronic said as he hopped in place. “I always love company—Sun can become so bothersome after so long...” He spared a glance over his shoulder towards the room above the ball pit.

“Yeah, because... You're both different animatronics!” Gregory accused, which made Moon immediately let out a cackle.

“Now where would you get that idea from?” he asked, although Gregory could swear that one of Moon’s glowing eyes flashed in a knowing wink.

Freddy laughed. “He has quite the imagination, does he not? I have told him so many times that you and Sun are one and the same, but he insists that you are your own separate beings.” He shrugged, lightly shaking his head.

Gregory pouted, folding his arms over his chest. “That's because they are.”

Moon let out a small cackle as he leaned on the desk again. “Ehehehe… You can't blame him for thinking such things, Freddy—he’s just a child, after all.”

Freddy inclined his head in agreement. “Your personalities are quite different, that is true, but that makes it even more impressive!” He paused, meeting Moon’s gaze. “…You are the same, right?”

Moon didn't answer for a moment, simply grinning down at Freddy. Eventually, he reached down to gently pet Freddy’s hat and then the top of Gregory’s head. “What a silly question! Your dad is pretty funny, Gregory!”

Freddy was about to reply, when Gregory’s Fazwatch suddenly came to life. “Hey, bud!” Bonnie’s cheerful voice came through. “We should be done in about an hour; I’ll meet you guys in the basement then, okay?!”

Freddy smiled. “Wonderful—that gives us time to stop by the gift shop like you wanted, superstar!”

Gregory through his fists up with a bright smile, nodding his head. “Yessss!”

Moon suddenly froze, recognizing the voice from deep in his memory. Although he didn’t know him all too well on a personal level, Moon was familiar with the rabbit and knew he’d been out of commission for a while. “Was that... Bonnie?!”

“Oh… so much for the surprise!” Freddy said with a laugh. “Yes, we found Bonnie and have been working to get him repaired; I am sure he would love to stop by for a visit once he is all better.”

Moon did a happy dance from side to side as he clasped his hands together. “Oh, how wonderful! I can't wait to see ol' Bon!”

Gregory was still a bit unsettled by Moon and all of his weird movements, but this small interaction with Freddy right by his side helped get over his initial fears quite a bit. Still, now that they had a clear way out of the situation, Gregory was definitely going to take it.

“Can we go to the gift shop now?” he asked Freddy, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Certainly!” Freddy met Moon’s gaze with a smile. “It was very nice to see you again, Moon; we will try to visit more often, and bring the others as well!”

“I will see you both very soon, ehehehe!” Moon replied as he stood to his full height and waved a hand, looking down at Gregory who suddenly seemed a lot more relieved to leave the daycare now.

Freddy gave Moon a final wave as he and Gregory left the daycare, making it to the gift shop in record time since they were so close. The wall of shirts had been completely revamped to include a “throwback” line dedicated to past versions of the Fazbear band, including older characters like Bonnie and Foxy.

“Look at all these options!” Freddy exclaimed, holding Gregory higher to see everything. “Which one is your favorite?”

“Hmm... That one! And that one!” Gregory said as he pointed towards the Freddy shirt first, followed by the Foxy one.

“Good choices,” Freddy said, smiling as he grabbed the shirts in question. He wasn’t entirely sure what size Gregory wore, but he got a size smaller than last time since that one had been a bit big. He set Gregory down, holding out both shirts for him to pick from. “Here, try one on and let’s see if it fits.”

Gregory stared up at Freddy as he was set down, immediately raising his arms and taking the shirt with a 'thank you'. He slipped the Freddy shirt on over his head, which seemed to be a perfect fit. “Oh! I love it!”

“Perfect!” Freddy exclaimed, ruffling Gregory’s hair. “Do you want to pick out anything else? We still have a little time, so we can drop off everything at our room when you are finished.”

Nodding his head, he began trotting around the gift shop grabbing different toys that caught his interest. Once Gregory gathered a satisfactory amount of merch, he and Freddy carried everything back to their room. They played with some of Gregory’s new things, but before long there was a knock at the door. Freddy opened it to reveal Roxy, Chica, and Monty standing there, grinning from ear to ear.

“How did everything go?” Freddy asked, and Roxy gave him a thumbs-up.

“Even better than expected!” she replied, pressing a hand to her chest proudly while resting the other on her hip. “I am the best, after all! He’s waiting for you both downstairs.”

Chica looked down at Gregory, smiling softly as she pet the top of his head. “Bonnie is very excited to see you both! Roxy did an amazing job, actually!”

Freddy chuckled, then looked down at Gregory, an excited glint in his eyes. “Are you ready to see Bonnie, superstar?!”

Gregory smiled, quickly nodding his head as he quickly ran back to the couch to set his shirt back down, then rushed back to Freddy with his arms up. “Yes!”

Freddy picked Gregory up, smiling at everyone as they moved to let them pass, and quickly made his way to the elevator. They descended to the now-familiar basement and when the doors opened, they were greeted with the most amazing sight: Bonnie standing in the hallway, almost completely repaired with a huge grin lighting up his face.

His entire body was covered in a purple outer casing, leaving nothing to indicate the sad state he’d been in just days before. Big paws replaced what were spindly, exposed metallic fingers, and both ears perked fully upright as Bonnie caught sight of his friends. His face, once a cavernous void revealing a jawless endo, now showed the happiest expression: bright red eyes full of life, one with a yellow star painted around it, and a black rabbit nose above a grinning mouth open slightly to reveal endearing buck teeth.

“Oh my goodness, look at you!” Freddy exclaimed, pressing a hand to his mouth as Bonnie’s infectious happiness overwhelmed him. If he could cry, he’d definitely be shedding a few tears right now.

Bonnie simply laughed, stepping up and pulling his friend into the tightest hug he’d ever given, making sure not to smoosh Gregory too much in the process. “Let it out, Fredbear; I missed you, too!”

***

Masterlist of chapters on Tumblr here!

Please check out The Superstar Series on ao3 for all fics in this series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2726401

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.2k WARNINGS: child trafficking, child labor

a/n: just a disclaimer, i am not that well-versed when it comes to investigations and trial procedures at the court. please do correct me i make a mistake. i hope you enjoy this new part! i think we have about three or four chapters left. ANGST is on the next part :’(

seven: if you can’t believe | masterlist

“On April xx, 20xx, at approximately 10:30 in the morning, two unidentified males entered and held hostage the Emergency Room of the Royal Hospital. The nurse in charge of the information desk said that the two males approached the desk and asked if there were two boys (their identities are yet to be confirmed) admitted to the hospital. They claimed that they’re their guardians and wish to have them discharged and transferred to a different hospital. Based on their description, the nurse confirmed that there were two boys who came to the hospital earlier in the morning. However, the nurse informed them that they are not cleared to be discharged yet as per doctor’s orders and if they wish to discuss with the doctor-in-charge, they can. They only need to present IDs or any documentation to prove that they are indeed the guardian.

They did present IDs however, it was not valid and accepted by the hospital. The two males started demanding to see the two boys and insisted that they will recognize who they were. At that point, the nurse said the two males’ were beginning to raise their voices. The nurse asked them to calm down and wait patiently for the doctor-in-charge to arrive. That’s when the two males pulled out handguns and threateningly pointed it at the nurse.

The Royal Hospital’s security was alerted and immediately called the Royal Police. The hospital’s security was able to distract the two suspects until one of the police officers fired a shot. Fortunately, no hospital staff and patients were harmed. It is yet to be identified how the armed suspects were able to enter the hospital undetected. 

The Royal Police cannot release the names of the suspects and any other details as the investigation is still ongoing. However, we are looking at the direction that this could possibly be a  case of child trafficking and the two suspects are perpetrators. 

Please be rest assured that we are committed to solve this case and hold everyone involved accountable. We ask the general public to only believe verified information and wait for the official statements that the Royal Police will release accordingly.

Thank you for your understanding.”

You’re both crestfallen and angry. This paper would probably rip apart from the way your hand is deathly gripping it. It’s never easy to read and hear about crimes committed against innocent people. It’s never easy because they don’t deserve to go through the torment, harm and trauma. You wish you could avoid it, but it would be wrong and unfair to the victims. So no matter how heartbreaking or uncomfortable it is, you read and you listen because you have to be aware of it. You have to know and not turn a blind eye because they deserve to be heard and fought for. 

This black and white statement of the Royal Police is nothing but horrible. How did the kingdom let this pass? For a kingdom that’s so proud of its enforcement of strict laws, how did this crime happen right under its nose? 

It weighs on your heart and ever since you’ve taken hold of this piece of paper, you don’t know how to continue on with the day anymore. You lean your head against the backrest and stare up the ceiling. You breathe in and breathe out, getting yourself together to think, to function.  

Something is telling you that there is more to this hostage taking at the hospital and this case of child trafficking. And you desperately need to know. You’re already aware that the authorized and concerned people are doing their job already, but why is it drawing your attention? 

You release an exasperated sigh and massage your right brow. It’s been twitching due to the boiling anger inside you and you just want it to stop. The only way for that to happen is to find answers. Picking up your phone among the pile of papers, you dial the number of the person you’re sure that can give you any information, big or small. 

First ring. Second ring. Thi---, “Your Highness.”

You’re quick to your feet the moment he answered. “Hey Seungkwan. How have you been?”

Boo Seungkwan is the man to call. A persistent and assertive prosecutor and person in general. Definitely one of the brightest classmates and lawyers you have ever met. It’s no surprise that he’s hired by the Supreme Prosecutor’s Office as a prosecutor. He knows what he’s doing and more than doing, he knows how to fight to the end.

He actually wanted you to join together and you considered the offer. However, due to your position in the kingdom, you realized that practicing in private is more suitable for you.

“Well,” he says and pauses, “I have been better. How about you, Your Highness?”

“You know that you can call me Y/N, right?” You remind him, offering a smile even though he won’t be able to see it. “We went to law school and passed the exams together.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, not a big fan of throwbacks. “To what do I owe this phone call anyway?”

“About the recent statement of the Royal Police, is there anything you’d be willing to share with me?” You requested and faced the window that’s overlooking the city. 

You hear him chuckle on the other line. “I knew you’d ask. You do know that I’m risking my job as a prosecutor because I can’t say no to you right?”

“Is it something… big?” You ask nervously, biting the insides of your cheek.

A beat of silence passes and you can tell it is without having him say it. You think your heart is going to explode anytime soon.

“Big or not, it’s a case and a crime,” he retorts. “But this is something that Their Majesties need to brace themselves for,” he continues, warning laced on his voice. “It can shake the cabinet as well because we can tell that one, and if not, some of them are involved.”

There it is. The cold hard truth. There was nothing else to say. It’s more than obvious that the kingdom’s cabinet has been compromised and it will blow right at your family’s faces. You don’t even need to doubt it. But still, your blood runs cold at the thought. 

“Thank you Seungkwan,” you say and breathe out a defeated sigh. “Let’s meet for coffee some other time.”

You hear him say “anytime” and then end the call. 

You toss your phone back on the table and cross your arms as if you’re trying to hug yourself. Your eyes are out of focus and your mind has questions that need answers. This case is not even about protecting your family’s reputation anymore. It’s about your family protecting its people, its children, from this. 

You’ll probably never forgive yourself if you and the rest of your family have failed to do its promise and duty. 

“Your Highness?” Jeongyeon knocks on the wooden door and calls for you, pulling you back to the ground. “Are you ready to go?”

You frown and tilt your head to the side, confused. You don’t remember having errands outside the office today. 

Jeongyeon notices your confusion and says, “Your monthly checkup is today.”

Oh. 

“I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind,” you say and quickly gather your things so that you can leave now. “Thank you, Jeongyeon.”

She nods, understanding what you meant. She keeps the door open and waits for you to pass through. 

What the hell am I going to do? You ask yourself. A million thoughts has started running inside your mind from reading the statement up to finding out that this case could potentially be a crime syndicate. A crime syndicate that the Royal Family failed to prevent. Every day, there are crimes that get tried and solved in this kingdom. But for this particular crime, it doesn’t happen every day and it shouldn’t be in the first place. But, your kingdom must have grown complacent because here it is, a ticking time bomb that will explode anytime soon.

How did this happen and who allowed this to happen?

“Your stress levels are quite high compared to your previous check-up, Your Highness.” The doctor gives you a knowing smile after reading the results of your tests today. 

“It’s because of work,” you make an excuse and return his smile with a sheepish one while scratching the back of your neck. “I think.”

The doctor tried to muffle his laughter, but you can hear him snicker nonetheless. He just nods and mutters an, “alright,” and proceeds to write down the results and updates of this consultation. 

“Although there is nothing to be concerned about, I still advise you to take things slow,” he once again points out the reminder that he gave from the first time you got admitted. “Remember, I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

You nod and purse your lips in a smile. “I promise I’ll try.”

He raises his eyebrows at your answer, but lets it go in the end. 

“I think we are good,” he says and leans his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “Let’s go back to your yearly check-up, like the usual.”

“Thank you for your time.” You stand up and reach your hand out to shake his. “I’ll see you next year, then.”

The doctor replies with his smile still intact, “I will be here.”

You think about taking the rest of the afternoon off and just go back to your apartment. You suddenly don’t feel so good and present, for lack of a better word. You just want to think alone, away from any distractions. 

On your way out to the door, you pull your phone out from your bag to call Jeongyeon. This floor of the hospital is private and reserved only for your family. It’s something you’re not proud of and you should probably talk to Their Majesties about it. You sigh and hold your phone to your ear as you proceed to the elevator. You're only a few steps away when a familiar voice makes you stop.

“Hey.”

You jump in surprise, almost dropping your phone and bag. You turn around and you’re not so surprised anymore to see a grinning Wonwoo with hands inside the pockets of his white coat. With a roll of your eyes, you finally relaxed your tensed shoulders and walked towards him.

He meets you halfway and holds his hand out. You happily take it, making it easy for him to tug you close to his chest, bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his around your waist. Just like that, his breath against your skin made all your worries vanish.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, distancing from him but not letting go. 

“I knew that you’d be here,” he answers, keeping his hold on your arms. “Had to see you.”

You scoff and give his shoulder a light shove. “Shut up. We were inseparable until our last day at your hometown and yet you still want to see me. Aren’t you sick and tired of my face yet?”

He pinches your cheek and kisses the tip of your nose. “Of course not.”

“Well, I’m leaving,” you announce and let go of him, reluctantly (as always). “You should probably get back to work.”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you move any further and drags his hand from your arm to your hand, swaying it from side to side as he whines out, “But, I’m on my break. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

You don’t really give in easily and it takes a lot of persuasion before you actually do. Jeongyeon can’t even convince you to stop going home late. But with just one request and pleading eyes, Wonwoo has you standing inside his office. 

It’s spacious, but a tad bit messy. There is lots of paper. In fact mountains of them, which you are very familiar with already. A wall of books is on one side of the room while three respective desks are on the other side. There’s a window, which is good, you can see some natural lighting. And of course, a small pantry for coffee and snacks. 

Wonwoo offered his chair for you to sit on as he prepared you something to drink. You still look around and try to keep yourself occupied. Your eyes trail on his desk eventually and you can’t help but smile. If every corner of this room is in disarray, Wonwoo’s desk seems to be the only area that is not. There’s nothing much on it except for a jar of pens, pencils and highlighters, a notepad and some bookmarked books. 

“You’ve met Soonyoung, right?” He asks, coming back with  two warm cups. Coffee for him and tea for you. “I share this office with him and another doctor.”

You nod and take a quick sip. You noticed that it’s almost lunch time on the clock above the door and wondered, “Is this all you’re going to have for lunch?”

“I had some cheeseburger earlier this morning, so I’m good,” he answers and leans against the edge of the desk. “How about you? Are you hungry?”

You smile and shake your head no. 

Then, it got quiet. 

It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but you think Wonwoo can sense something else by the way his eyebrows raise as if he’s waiting for you to say something more. He sips on his coffee one more time before placing the cup down on the table. Afterwards, he takes matters into his own hands and swivels the chair you're sitting on by the armrest towards him, catching you off guard.

His actions almost made you drop your drink and you thought for a moment if you should punch him again. “What are you doing?”

Wonwoo just gives you a mischievous smirk before leaning down to kiss your lips. Your eyes dilate in surprise while the rest of your body freezes. You’re just thankful you’re already sat on the chair, otherwise your legs would give up and you’d fall. When you don’t resist, his kiss deepens, demanding. But it didn’t go any further than a few more pecks here and there. You let him be until he decides to pull away, but not without giving one last long smooch. 

“What was that for?” You ask, suddenly shy. 

Wonwoo just nonchalantly shrugs. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

“You startled me!” You hiss and slap his arm.

Wonwoo has started to take pleasure in seeing you all flustered and shy. He finds it cute and he’ll take every chance he gets just to see it. But he knows there’s something bothering you and he’s hoping you give him the chance to hear you out.

“Talk to me,” he says while crouching, almost sitting down on the floor to meet your height. “What’s on that brilliant head of yours?”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words but give in nonetheless, “It’s the hostage that took place previously. There’s a new update about it.”

Wonwoo exhales and moves to massage your thighs. “I read about it briefly earlier.”

You nod and let the silence engulf the two of you once again. 

“Listen, the kids they we’re talk---”

“Wonwoo!”

You jump when the door of the office suddenly bolts open with two unfamiliar boys dressed in hospital gowns running inside. They’re quickly followed by a panting Soonyoung who gives the two of you an apologetic smile. Wonwoo immediately stands up as they excitedly dash towards him while chanting his name. 

“We heard you were on a break, can we play now? Please?” The little one, which you assumed was the youngest, pleads and hops in the hopes of Wonwoo carrying him. The other one, who’s much taller, does the same but he’s only clinging to his arms.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted something, Your Highness,” Soonyoung says (you’re sure he’s teasing) and gives you a salute. “These boys never get tired and I have no idea how.”

You stand up from the chair too and try to get a good look on the boy’s faces, but you couldn’t because their attention is only on Wonwoo. 

“We’ll play, alright?” Wonwoo tries to calm them down.”But I want you to meet someone special first.”

Your heart skips a beat meanwhile Soonyoung’s jaw drops in a silent squeal. 

“They were the kids from the statement,” Wonwoo warrily says while making the boys face you. 

Statement?

Your heart skipped one moment and the next it dropped to your stomach. You didn’t expect it to be them. You really hoped it wasn’t them. You don’t even know how sure you are that it’s them. But when you finally meet their eyes, these boys don’t seem to be so unfamiliar anymore.

It’s them.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, suddenly concerned by the sudden downcast of your face. 

“Wonwoo...” you weakly whisper. 

They’re one of the children adopted from the orphanage.

“Can you ask the orphanage if they can give us a copy of photographs displayed at their gallery?” 

A phone call has never felt so dreadful. You can’t help but bite your nails as you listen to Jeongyeon adhere to your request. A lump has already formed on your throat and you don’t even know how you’re going to swallow it. 

You slide your phone back to your pocket when Jeongyeon said she’d get back to you shortly. You turn around from where you were standing and see Wonwoo and Soonyoung playing with the two boys. It’s bittersweet. For one, you’re glad they are free and happy and on the other hand, it doesn’t sit right why they have to go through terrible and unimaginable things just so that they can be.

And it doesn’t help that it all happened here. 

Wonwoo told you how they got to know them and how he had asked the hospital to keep them here in the meantime, in coordination with Social Services of course. He didn’t need the hostage taking or the police’s statement to know what’s going on because his guts already told him the moment he saw the state of the boys. But then again, what happened only confirmed what he feared the most. 

Wonwoo deviates his attention to you and notices your lost gaze. By the looks of it, he’s aware that this is bothering you. He gives Sam’s hair a ruffle before standing up and walking to where you are.

“Are you okay?” He asks, reaching his hand out to softly squeeze your arm.

“Yeah,” you affirm, but the palm against your forehead doesn’t seem to agree. “I just… I can’t believe this.”

“It’s okay,” he tries to soothe your distress with his hand cradling your face. “I mean, it’s not. But, it’s not your fault.”

Why does it feel like it is? 

You couldn’t ask him that out loud so you just give him a nod instead. Wonwoo knows you’re hesitant to believe him and he doesn’t like it. He takes your hands and squeezes them. 

“Look at me,” he commands and when you don't, he lifts your chin up himself. “I’m confident this will be solved in no time. Have faith in your people and yourself, hmm? ”

“Okay,” you answer and that makes Wonwoo smile. 

Okay. You’re going to stop wallowing in your own uncertainty. You draw your eyes back at the boys and at this moment, you promised that punishment will be inflicted to everyone responsible for their suffering. 

No matter what it takes.

[rae-gar-targaryen]

alight with the lights out | diego hargreeves x reader [tua]

A/N: Thank you for all of your interest after I posted the teaser! It was VERY surprising and humbling; I’ve NEVER had so many people ask for a tag before. I only ask that if you asked for a tag, you interact with this fic SOMEHOW. And go find another story you love and REBLOG IT! LET THAT WRITER KNOW YOU LOVE THEM!

I’ll be honest, I’m very nervous about this one. I’m not sure if it turned out as good on paper as it did in my head. Please let me know what you liked and what you didn’t!

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x vigilante, powered!Reader; this one may read a bit more like an OC because I’ve given the reader backstory, powers. She’s (you’re) a vigilante who regularly runs into Diego. I keep the physical description vague, so I hope you can still imagine yourself! 

Warnings: Language; who doesn’t love getting a little sweary? Violence, fighting, references to a shitty childhood, and separately, implied sexual assault (nothing graphic, I promise); angst and angsty dialogue; SMUT-- 18+ ONLY PLEASE; lots of cocktease dialogue, fingering, pierced nipples (the reader’s not Diego’s-- sorry), biting, rough sex, choking. Romance is its own warning. Fluff.

Word Count: 12.1k of sexy, self-righteous vigilantism, half-baked metaphor and of course, at least one literary reference. 

Summary: Diego Hargreeves, aka The Kraken, is secure about few things in life; one of those things being his vigilantism. He’s a hero. Until he meets a fighter who shares the same hobby, albeit with different methodologies. Diego isn’t quite as certain about her, but her mysterious abilities make him think he and his siblings aren’t the only ones in this world with power. If only she and Diego could just stay out of each others’ hair. It’s a good, old-fashioned ENEMIES TO LOVERS, lads!

Link to my playlist of songs that inspired this fic: here

NOT MY GIF

----

You wouldn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. That was rule number one. Hell, if you could get away with it at all, you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

But Mr. Adler hated children. And he had made it his mission to not understand you. To regard you with the utmost disdain. And unfortunately for you, Mr. Adler had married your mother when you were six years old. 

You had never known another father. Your mother refused to talk about the circumstances of your birth, or of the man who had supposedly been responsible. The lack of identity loomed like a large question mark over certain portions of your life. 

And Mr. Adler, that loud, controlling lout, was not about to fill that void. 

When you were in elementary school, you began to feel like you were different from the other children. Watching them carry about their days with their steel-pressed pop culture lunch boxes and not a care in the world. While you sensed your music teacher’s sadness when her cat had died. You could feel every anxiety that passed through your classmates on the day of a spelling test. You didn’t know why you could feel these things. You just could.

Prominently above them all, you could feel Mr. Adler’s hatred for you, like a thick, toxic wall every time you passed through your front door and into what was supposed to be your sanctuary. 

He shouted at you for inane things, like the pantry door being left open, or the fact that your mother was tired after cooking dinner, insisting you never did enough to help. As a child of eight, what did he expect you to do? You kept your room clean, cleared and set the table, helped your mom water the plants in her garden. What more could Adler want from you?

Still, Mr. Adler’s hate for you colored your every interaction with him, the world you saw him through tinged with an orange-red lens of rage. 

You had never tried expanding upon your grasp of others’ feelings until you had witnessed a boy in your class push your pigtailed classmate, Annabelle, down on the playground. Anna’s shock, fear and sadness had bitten into you from the other side of the sandbox like an unwelcome spider bite, sudden and itchy. 

It didn’t sit right with you. To you, how was this boy any different from Adler? Reigning terror over someone else just because he thought he could. You’d recognize that red-orange tinge in another person anywhere. 

You stood, marching over to the boy, gripping his wrist firmly in your stubby, grubby fingers. Quick as a flash, you were met with every emotion this boy had ever felt -- annoyance at Anna (she wouldn’t share her toys. How selfish, the boy had thought); anger (how dare you grab him!); and finally, prominently, fear. 

Fear looked different for everyone, you had noticed. For some, like this boy, it was an ugly green, so like jealousy. For others, like Adler when he’d been drinking, it was an inky black you could drown in. Fear was clearly the strongest. You knew that now.

You gripped the boy’s fear in your own mind, pushing it to the forefront until he began to cry, his eyes welling with the sudden fear he couldn’t understand. 

“You won’t do that again,” you said. Turning to Anna, you offered a hand to help her up, but she just shook her head, pigtails flying, and scampered away from you. 

Your teachers were clearly afraid of you after that. Could sense that something wasn’t right. Anna? You thought she’d be grateful ... but the chilly pale yellow of her fear, and everyone else’s, followed you wherever you went. 

Fine, you thought. If they wouldn’t be grateful for what you could do, you may as well help yourself. 

From then on, you exploited your teachers’ happiness -- pop quizzes became less frequent. Everytime they wanted to scold you for incomplete homework, they were left grasping at straws and with the daze of an emotion they couldn’t name. 

Adler hated you for it. 

“I knew there was something wrong with you,” he sneered over your mother’s weeping objections. “I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s something.” 

Once you reached 18, you left for the neighboring bustling metropolis and didn’t look back. The world was full of people like Adler, like the boy in the sandbox, like your teachers, who tried to use their own fear to feed their hate, to exploit others. To exercise false power over them. 

Well, you wouldn’t have it. If it meant a few of those assholes got hurt, well, so be it. 

You lived like that for years. Until --

---

"I hope you choke on it," you hissed, watching the smoky black tendrils slither their way around the man, constricting -- bringing him to his knees, hacking and gasping. "I see your fear, I feel it all. You deserve this, you know you do," you lectured, advancing toward the man, your hands raised. 

He was seconds away, you knew it-- and then one more scumbag would be off the streets for good ...

Things were going your way, you were in your favorite position in an altercation-- you know, the one where you had the upper hand? Everything was coming up you, until--

Your ears were met with a whizzing noise mere seconds before a sharp, shiny something nicked your cheek and lodged into the wooden beam just past you. 

Your gaze left the piteous man before you long enough to see what looked like a small, but dangerously sharp, knife embedded in the beam. You reached up and plucked it from its resting place, spinning it in your palm before catching the hilt in a clutching grip. You turned to see where it had come from, your eyes catching a dark blur flipping from the fire escape of the opposite building, before said blur landed at your feet.

Standing at his full height, the blur-- no, the Kraken himself-- towered above you.

You had to admit, the stories didn't do him justice. Standing before you in head-to-toe black and a harness replete with shimmering, twinkling edges and danger, you could've sworn he was your knight in shining leather. His cropped hair and facial scars gave him the air that he was every bit as sharp and deadly as the many blades that adorned his body. His oilslick eyes so like mirthless pits of danger, daring to suck you beneath their surface. He was, in a word, imposing.

Regarding you from behind his Venetian domino mask, he spoke, "Miss I'm gonna need you to drop the knife and let this man go."

You snorted.

"You're joking, right?" Not giving him a chance to respond, you chuckled as you swung at him with the hand still holding what you now knew to be his blade. 

You'd give credit where it was due, Diego Hargreeves, aka Number Two, aka the Kraken, was every bit as fast as they'd said. In this regard, the stories and Umbrella Academy-related media hadn't been wrong. 

Diego dodged your swing, bending his body back before twirling around to strike at your torso, like a snake, with his heavy, hammered fist.

The hit knocked the wind out of you, effectively breaking your concentration, and, devastatingly, your connection with the previously fear-choked man cowering in the alley behind you. As you recovered from Diego's hit and swung around to check your quarry, you could only watch as he shook himself from your fear-induced trance.

He scraped and scrabbled to get up off his knees as Diego shouted at him to "Go, just get out of here!"

You snarled and swung a well-aimed high kick at Diego's head, connecting with just enough of his jaw to drop him. As soon as your proverbial window opened, you turned from Diego to run after the man. But even grounded from a blow, Diego was formidable. He shot his arm out and snagged your ankle, yanking you to the ground. 

The gritty pavement scraped your palms as you attempted to catch yourself on your way down, growling as you glanced up to see that loathsome cockroach of a man slip out of the alley, huffing as his bloated legs carried himself far away from you. 

You tossed a glance over your shoulder to see Diego righting himself as he stood up, looking down at you before shrugging, offering you his hand.

"Not a chance," you scoffed, knocking his hand away. You rolled slightly back, arched up, and used your hands to help you spring as you lept to your feet in one smooth movement. You landed with a thud of your boots, your feet spread apart, and arms raised in a boxer's stance. 

Diego had the decency to look slightly surprised at your obviously-dangerous athleticism. He shook himself slightly as he regarded you. 

Besides, he thought, taking in your stature, it's not as though you were any match for him. No way.

"Why would you get in my way, Umbrella douche?" You bit out harshly, glaring daggers at the knife-wielding Kraken.

"Come on, hot stuff," Diego shrugged. "If you know who I am, you gotta know it's not like I can just let you mug that man with … well, whatever you were doing to him." What he had seen you do in the alley seemed to be catching up with him as he cocked his head and queried, "What exactly were you doing to him, by the way? I mean, other than hurting a civilian?"

"A civilian?" You spat. "You don't know what you're talking about, do-gooder. If you knew what he was, you wouldn't be defending him so staunchly." 

“And what was he?” Diego pressed. 

“That dickless fuckhead would-be-rapist isn’t worth the shit on your shoe,” you snarled. “And you let him get away. Nice job, hero,” you sing-songed the last word mockingly, taking advantage of Diego’s lowered guard to level a swinging hit to his nose. 

Your punch landed with a satisfying crack, Diego stumbling back, shaking his head. 

“What in the ever-loving FUCK is wrong with you, lady?” Diego shouted. 

“Take your hits like a big boy. Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of ‘Big Deal?’ ” you asked, advancing toward Diego, fists raised. 

“Honey, my reputation precedes me for a reason,” Diego quipped back, blocking your next swing and making one of his own toward your gut. 

The two of you sparred in the alleyway, whirling and spinning in a very violent dance between two unwilling partners -- Diego, clearly pulling his punches, while you were obviously preoccupied with your rage at your escaped quarry. 

Diego flipped and spun and swung his fists with a speed that bordered on unnatural. His jabs and kicks annoyingly landed, as you were really only able to block just about every other hit. Fuck him for being so fast. 

So it was true, you thought, the superpower hype was real. Well, two could play that game. 

At Diego’s next hit, you caught his fist, allowing the contact to create the connection you needed, feeling for Diego and any underlying emotion that would be his undoing, before latching onto your favorite-- past the overstuffed confidence, you tasted simmering rage. Beyond that? A tiny prickle of … was that??…Ah, yes, the stinging, burns-so-good zip of lust... File that one away for later … and beneath it all lay Diego’s stammering, stuttering, suffocating fear. 

You dug your proverbial claws into it once you found it, bringing it to the surface, manifesting it into your signature smoky tendrils. 

Drag them down with their own fear. 

Diego’s eyes widened as he looked down to see his legs wrapped in what looked like snakes. Suddenly, his worst memories of fearful days under his father’s tyrannical reign were the only things in his brain. The shouting proclamation his own inadequacies in his father’s too-posh voice pounded within his skull. It was all he could think about -- Your presence before him seemed to dwindle, he couldn’t focus on you, try as he might-- when he was overcome with the feelings of every bad memory he had ever suffered through bearing down on him like the crushing weight of the ocean, pulling him under with the riptide of his own panic and inadequacies.

What the fuck was this shit? 

He pushed through his sudden indifference toward you to regard you, the woman stood before him. Diego’s fist clenched as he took in your own grip clutching around his wrist. Your eyes were closed as your face was screwed up in concentration. 

Repulsive. You were repulsive, he suddenly thought. How could he have cared so much about hurting you when his own terror and agitation sat heavy on his tongue, like ugly curdled cream?

But he hadn’t always felt this way-- not his usual modus operandi, was it? So what was this? Was this-- you?? Was this what you had done to that man?

Diego began to dredge himself through his own agitation, past his father’s lilting abuse… through the mire of never-quite-being-enough against Luther... dragging his proverbial feet through a bog of his own self-hatred. Just long enough to wrench his wrist from your grip, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning around, slamming you probably a little too hard into the wall behind him. Your eyes snapped open as your head made a minor thwack off the  alleyway-- you had just enough time to tilt your head to the left as Diego brought one of his knives down, driving it into the wall a sliver from the space your face had previously occupied. 

Diego bore his weight on his toes, leaning his imposing height into and over you, panting and snorting heavily through his nose. You looked at his eyes behind his mask-- hardened flints of pissed-off-superhero glared back at you.

“W-wh-What the F-f-UCK was that?” Diego spit, lip curling over his teeth in a gruesome snarl. 

A fleeting flicker of shame passed through you. He hadn’t really done anything to deserve that, had he? Before you shook yourself out of it-- No! He let that rat-faced motherfucker get away! 

You fixed your face into an impassive mask of your own before you chirped, annoyingly, “What was what?” 

Diego chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head.  “Nuh-uh. How did you do that?” Diego pressed, leaning even closer to you, if that were possible.

“Do what?” you chimed innocently, tilting your chin up, eyes meeting Diego’s from beneath your lashes. Maintaining your feigned ignorance.

“Don’t do that,” Diego snarled. “Don’t play dumb. I think we both know at this point-- you’re alot of things, and dumb isn’t one of them.” 

“You’d know all about playing dumb, wouldn’t you, pretty boy? Or for you, is it not really playing?” You reached up and ran a finger along his sharp jaw before tweaking his chin and dropping your hand back to your side. You sighed at Diego’s stone face. Honestly, it was so boring when they didn’t bite back.

“I don’t know what to tell you, cutie pie. I can’t help it. People are just drawn to me,” you quirked an eyebrow. “Or repulsed by me. I really haven’t decided.” You fluttered your eyelashes at him, ever the pretty picture. 

Diego leaned further into you, pressing your back further and further into the wall. All the while, his leather-gloved grip creaked around the handle of the knife he’d plunged into the wall next to your head as he gripped it tighter. 

“Huh,” he mused, scoffing at you lightly. “Ya know something, doll? I just don’t fuckin’ buy it.” 

“Babe, if you wanted to play bad cop, all you had to do was ask,” you smirked as the stone face slid from his features and gave way to "surprised face."

“Honestly, honey,” you slinked up Diego’s body, propping yourself onto your toes and brushing his lips ever-so-lightly with your own as you spoke into his mouth, “Did you really think you and your reject siblings were the only ones in this whole wide world with a little … taste … of power?” you purred. 

Ah, you thought, and there it was. 

The warming, zinging hum that your ability recognized as Diego’s lust crept through your fingertips that were currently resting on his chin. You were sure if you took the time to analyze exactly who was feeling what, that this feeling of craving wouldn’t be as one-sided as you’d otherwise have hoped. Diego was, you had to admit, very pretty -- for a man. 

The swirling galaxies in his midnight eyes regarded you with confusionangerwant.  Had you really just -- kinda kissed him?

You took advantage of Diego’s surprised state to knock his grip from your shoulder and shove -- hard. Diego toppled back, and you took off as fast as your enhanced body would carry you, cutting down the alley and away from your fascinatingly frustrating new rival. 

Diego took in your retreating form from his final resting place in the disgusting alley’s concrete. Slamming his fist into the rough-gravel ground, groaning out his frustration and anger.

You were gone. 

What were you? 

Were you really like him? Like the others?

---

Diego shuffled into Hargreeves Manor, determined to see who else was around. Surely they, or Pogo, would know if there were others like them out there. Had he been the only one to run into one? Was it all a hoax?

As he wandered into the cavernous, but simultaneously stuffy, living room, sure enough-- there was Klaus, sprawled across the couch, arm slung over his face in a restless nap. 

“Klaus!” Diego barked, startling the spindly man from his perch on the couch and onto the floor. 

Klaus looked balefully up at his brother from his spot on the carpet. “Jeeeesus, Diego, really? What do you want that made that necessary,” Klaus grumbled.

“Have you seen Pogo?” 

“I haven’t seen anything but the back of my eyelids for the last several hours, thank you very much,” Klaus replied, “Although, I did have a very good dream about running into an old friend of mine in the grocery store. He was always so convinced he was straight. But I think the rest of my dream calls bullshit.” Klaus chuckled to himself. 

“Yeah, whatever, man. I need to talk to Pogo,” Diego stressed, turning to leave the living room.

“Well, wait, wait, wait. What is so important?” Klaus queried, clambering up and lumbering across the room to catch Diego’s arm.

Diego sighed, facing his brother. 

“Do you think … Do you think we’re the only ones like us?” He asked.

“Well, there’s no one like you, brother,” Klaus chuckled, taking on a rumbling, Diego-esque mocking tone, “I’m Number Two!” He cackled to himself for a moment before coming back to himself with a sigh. “And honestly, we all know I’m an original. So I’m not sure I take your meaning.” 

“I mean… it couldn’t just be the seven of us, right? There’s a lot of other people in the world… it just makes sense others could do things like what we can?” Diego pressed.

Klaus started. He had never seen this look in his brother’s eye before. The unhinged mania of a fight? Sure. Crushing doubt? Obviously. But not this … fierce certainty buried beneath a question. This was new for Diego. He must be serious. 

Klaus blinked, regarding his brother, before slowly nodding. “I mean… sure… theoretically, there could be others. But I don’t know any. Why? Did you find someone?” 

Diego drew in a breath, unsure of how much he wanted to reveal to Klaus. After all, you were his nemesis. His pain in the ass. His whatever you were. 

Diego crossed the room again, back to the couch Klaus had previously occupied, before sitting down in a creak of leather and clink of blades still strapped to his harness. Propping his elbows on his thighs, he placed his head in his hands. 

“I don’t know. I think so? I found her while I was out patrolling, and I … I don’t really know how to describe what I saw.” 

Klaus placed himself next to his erstwhile sibling, tucking his feet beneath himself as he sat, reaching up to pat Diego on the shoulder.

“There, there, big guy. Just… tell me what happened,” Klaus crooned.

Diego launched into the story of finding you in the alley, choking the man with your smoke without even laying a hand on him. He described to Klaus how the two of you had fought, and how you had called the man a “would-be-rapist” before knocking Diego to the ground and making your getaway. 

“Well, she sounds hot.” 

“Helpful, Klaus,” Diego deadpanned. 

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, sweet Dee?” Klaus chimed at the end of Diego’s story. At his brother’s nonplussed look, Klaus continued. “She’s just like you! She likes to put on her Batman underoos and fight crime,” he chuckled. “Even if she is like… us… she clearly can do something different. But I think the most telling thing is how obviously into her you are.” 

Diego sputtered, “Wh-what?? I am not into that … psycho. Whatever she can do, that’s all I want to figure out.” 

“The lady doth protest too much,” Klaus sing-songed. “Whatever you say, brother. But I think the only way you’ll really figure it out is if you run into her again. I mean, we know dad had his secrets. If he knew about other powered children, don’t you think the Umbrella Academy would’ve been a lot bigger? The world is a big place. I’m sure there’s more out there, but, um… we just didn’t know about it until now?” 

Diego sighed deeply. “Oh, joy,” he muttered. Ignoring the tinge of excitement that passed through him at Klaus’s suggestion he seek you out. 

Klaus clapped his hands joyously, cuffing Diego’s shoulder, shaking him. 

“A nemesis, Diego! How sexy! How exciting!” 

---

Your encounter with one of the Umbrella Academy had left you slightly shaken, to say the least. You were so careful when you went out. No one missed those assholes you took care of. Honestly, you were doing the city a favor. 

Patrolling on any given night would yield one or two men who were plotting something less than savory. And all it took was a brush of skin to determine their true intentions. 

You sighed angrily, ripping off your bodysuit and stomping across your apartment to your shower, yanking back the curtain and twisting the knob forcefully. 

Hot water began to pour from the showerhead, steam filling your bathroom. You regarded your reflection in your bathroom mirror, a distinctly palmlike-bruise adorned your shoulder from where Diego had clutched it, not to mention the scrapes that lined your body from your repeated meetings with the concrete during your sparring. 

You met your own eyes in your reflection, regarding yourself as balefulness gave way to venom. 

Honestly, that toadlike little nobody had deserved what you were about to do to him. You had watched him from the back of the bar as he had annoyingly pressed his presence onto a poor girl who was just trying to enjoy her drink. Her drink that the toad had slipped something in when he thought she wasn’t looking. He even went so far as to grab her wrist with his stubby little hands. That was the final straw. 

You steeled yourself, letting the lustful, rowdy feeling of the other bar patrons that permeated the air like thick smoke take you over. Putting on your best, beguiling smile, you crossed the room and brushed your hand over the man’s bare arm, letting him feel the tingling want that you had absorbed. Simultaneously, you felt everything of his disgusting intent-- the hateful, possessive desire for the girl, the hurt he intended to inflict to trample his own inadequacies and sadness. 

Oh, yeah, you were right about this asshole. 

He looked up at you, disgusting gaze lingering on you, before forgetting all about his intended prey, pushing back from his barstool and venturing behind you out into the alley. 

The rest, as they say, is history. And an annoying vigilante type who had an ass that just wouldn’t quit once encased in black leather just had to rain on your proverbial pain parade. 

Diego Hargreeves… Of course you knew who he was. Everyone knew about the Umbrella kids. And you knew the man once-dubbed The Kraken was still doing his best Caped Crusader (sans cape) and kicking ass by night. Annoyingly self-righteous, really, you thought. Choosing ever-so-delicately to ignore the hypocrisy laden in your thought. Is that not, in effect, what you were doing? Albeit with a little more emotional manipulation and bloodshed. 

As you thought of Diego, your fingers traced the slim, sharp cut his knife had made in your cheek as it surged past you. 

You let the remnants of Diego’s rage that you had felt overtake you, amplified by your own, as you slammed your fist into the small mirror over your sink, letting the shards clatter to the ground around your feet.

Payback was a bitch, and so were you. You didn’t know if Diego Hargreeves was a praying man, but he had better hope to whatever deity would listen that he didn’t run into you again.

You wouldn’t be so kind twice, you told yourself, climbing into your shower and letting the blood and grit from your body swirl down the drain. 

---

As luck wouldn’t have it, your gods were decidedly not on your side. And clearly whatever deity you had mentally implored Diego to pray to was on vacation. 

Because you ran into that maddeningly beautiful dipshit, several times over the following weeks. He would do his best to bust up your party, stopping you from exacting your special brand of vengeance. You’d exchange a few quips and blows before running off before he could ask you the question you knew was burning in his mind. 

You managed to evade prolonged encounters with Diego until about another two weeks later. Too soon, honestly. 

Or not soon enough? God, your inner voice was desperate and annoying. 

You encountered Diego again while you were propped against the wall of a seedy dive on the other edge of town, assessing each person as they passed. While your power worked best if you could touch, some feelings were perfectly easy to pick up from a distance. 

So far, nothing. Just a few gross, horny bikers and depressive barflies. It was a maddeningly slow night. And you doubted you were needed here. 

Just as you were about to call it and head to another hotspot, a familiar prickle passed through you. You glanced up, across the street. 

Sure enough, on the neighboring rooftop, perched Diego Hargreeves in the flesh, surveying you like some kind of Great Value Nightwing. 

You sighed, pushing off the wall and crossing the street. Diego watched as you clambered up the fire escape to meet him on the rooftop. 

“Of course you would be here,” you chastised. “Are you fucking following me? I’ve been a good girl. Haven’t killed anyone in a week. I promise!” You held up your hands in mock surrender, coming to stand in front of Diego’s gloriously firm, leather-clad figure. 

“If you say so, Princess. Maybe I’m just here for a drink?” Diego cocked his head toward the shitty bar whose entrance you were haunting mere moments ago. 

“Doubtful, Underoos. I think…” you trailed off, circling Diego, tapping your finger to your chin in a pondering gesture. “I think you’re babysitting me. Making sure I don’t do your job for you and clean up the streets too well.” 

You ceased your vulture-like circling, coming to stand before Diego. His eyes bore into your own, once again partially obscured behind that stupid mask. As if you didn’t know what he looked like without it. Your eyes weren’t deceiving you when you saw Diego’s eyes flash a quick up-down of your body before resuming his stern visage. 

Oh good, you thought. You recognized the latent feelings buried beneath Diego’s anger. A new one brushed over you-- confusion… He still hadn’t figured you, or, more than likely, your power, out…

You weren’t left in suspense too long. 

“Tell me about what you can do,” Diego pressed, advancing toward you. You took a step back to maintain some distance… best if you can perpetuate some veil of advantage. 

“Ah, ah, ah, baby. It doesn’t work like that,” you chided. “You think I’m just going to spill all of my secrets because why? You’re cute? Try again. Ask nicely,” you smirked, pushing your lips into a tantalizing pout.

Diego rolled his eyes. You weren’t going to play fair? Fine, neither was he. Honestly, his fuse was too-fuckin-short for your shit. He wanted answers, even if he had to beat them out of you. Quick as a flash, he strode toward you, jumping into a flip and kicking you down to the ground upon his landing. 

You looked up at him, standing over your body as it lay on the gravelled rooftop, bringing your hand up to touch your jaw, where his boot had collided with your face not moments ago. 

You grinned widely, savagely, around bloodied teeth and split lips. "So that’s how we’re going to play? Do your worst, Big Deal. I like when it hurts."

With that, you swung your leg at Diego’s, causing him to topple beside you, where you promptly rolled over, coming to straddle his hips, bringing your hands to his wrists, the direct contact allowing you to bring his fear to the forefront. 

Just as you were about to choke him with the smoke of his own fear, Diego surged upright, his arms breaking free from the grip of your wrists, his own hands coming to close around your throat. He squeezed insistently, enough to break your concentration-- the smoke dissipating as soon as it had come. With that, he had managed to roll the two of you over, you flat on your back as one of his thighs came to rest between yours. 

You gasped, looking up at Diego with fiery shock looming in your eyes. 

“Wow,” you rasped, “I told you before-- if you wanted to play bad cop, all you had to do was ask.” 

Diego removed one hand from your throat, bringing it to his own head and ripping off his flimsy excuse for a mask. He regarded you with nacreous, tarpit eyes that glowed and glittered with the streetlights, his breath coming in ragged, uneven puffs through his sinfully full lips. His cropped hair was glistening with sweat borne equally from the heat of the night and your encounter. 

“Baby, I think you owe me an explanation first,” He pressed, squeezing your throat lightly, free hand pulling a knife from his harness that he spun in his fingers while gazing down at you. 

You whined, rolling your hips against where his thigh rested between your legs. 

“This would be so much more fun if you’d just do things my way,” you pouted at Diego. 

“Maybe I would, if you would bother to tell me what your way is,” Diego retorted.

“I could tell you, or I could show you,” you purred, rolling your hips again. “I’m all about more fun.” 

Diego sighed. The familiar buzz of lust radiating from your skin-- or was it his own-- that always seemed to hang over your encounters was pressingly prevalent and it was all he could do to not just give in. He gritted his teeth, and shook his head. 

“No. Come on. I know what you’re doing… whatever it is. Just … tell me what it is you can do. Tell me why you’re hurting those people,” he implored.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, using your free hands to knock his grip from your throat and coming to a sitting position, as Diego remained crouched over you. 

“All you hero-types. You’re no fun. You want to know what I can do? That pleasant little hum you feel? That’s you. Well, it’s me. But it’s you. I don’t make anyone feel what they don’t already… but I can use it against them. That first night at the bar? That,” you shuddered, “That rat was going to force himself on some poor girl. I could feel his every feeling as he was preying on her. I had to stop it. It’s simple, honeybunch. I do what you do, but better. I’ll make them choke in it, their own fear, their self-hatred, their inadequacy, their lust, I’ll drown them in it, and they’ll thank me for it. Because I’m nothing if not merciful,” you gritted out. 

Diego’s mind reeled, jaw slack from your confession. He knew it! You were an empath, an enhanced emotional manipulator. Except you seemed to be able to manifest emotions into something tangible, something harmful. 

Suddenly, the weight of your confession seemed to crush Diego, you had exploited every feeling of his during your encounters to gain an upper hand. And he hadn’t truly known about it until now. 

You felt the surge of his rage, his disgust, his fear with you before he could say it-- 

“You c-can’t-- you can’t do that,” Diego said. “Kililng people who haven’t even done anything yet? It’s w-wrong. Y-you’re w-wro-wrong,” He stuttered out, clearly distressed, but advancing even further into your space.

“As opposed to you?” You bit out. “You wait until someone’s already hurting or hurt someone else to do something. How are you any better? Who are you to judge me,” you spit through gritted teeth. 

“You’re a killer,” Diego pressed, pushing back from you and coming to stand.

“Sticks and stones. So are you. But I don’t hate you for it,” you snarled, jumping into a standing position, squaring your shoulders before Diego’s imposing form. 

“You could always work with me,” Diego offered, “ We could take what you can do and just… re-tool it a bit.” 

You ground out a harsh laugh. 

“Unlikely, you absolutely patronizing dick. You don’t want anything to do with me other than to change me, control me. You’re just like them.” 

With that, you unleashed a slew and flurry of attacks on Diego, swinging your hips around to level a kick at his gut, knocking him to his knees, where your arm was ready to strike a heavy blow against his cheek, your rage fueling the unnatural strength behind the hit. 

Diego sprawled against the concrete of the rooftop, half conscious after blows you’d dealt him. 

You stood over Diego now, looking down at his prone form. 

“I would never want anyone who only means to stifle me. To take me apart until there’s nothing left. Never.” You spit a glob of bloodied saliva at Diego’s feet, leaving him in his semi-conscious, battered state-- the guilt only slightly prickling you. 

His fear-- choking on half-gasped words from behind the tremulous task of tripping over his own tongue-- followed you like a stuttering stormcloud. It stung. Knowing that he was afraid of you.

---

Okay. The guilt was more than slight. 

All he had wanted to do was help, right? 

Years alone with your power, the sting of Adler’s rejection as a child, it all weighed down on you like the crushing magnitude of Atlas. You didn’t really want to hurt him. 

You sighed, resolute. You just needed to make sure.

With that, you headed out in the storm. Headed toward Diego. 

---

The rain pounded on the walls of the Fighting Lion, plunking heavily like half-hewn nails tossed onto the small window in Diego’s back bedroom. He could hear as it landed on the brick, the wet stone and stormy atmosphere making the air thick with the scent of sagebrush and rain. 

A kind of whoosh passed through the room, prompting him to turn from where he was folding his laundry on the bed to see you propped against the door, legs crossed at the ankles, looking every bit as if you belonged. 

“Wow, Big Deal. Nice digs,” you said as you sauntered in the room, staring at the case at the foot of the bed that was full of Diego’s knives. “Not what I’d expect coming from a dude who hails from the city’s biggest mansion. But still -- homey.” 

Diego ignored the jab about his upbringing in favor of the real question.

“How did you get in here?” He asked, seemingly --and to you, maddeningly-- disinterested in your presence as he continued stacking his paired socks into their rightful place in his bureau. 

“Uh, have you seen this place? It’s not exactly rigged with ‘Entrapment’ levels of security,” you snarked, folding your arms across your chest.

“Does that make you a cat burglar? Are you Catherine Zeta-Jones in this scenario?” Diego glanced at you from his socks, cocking a strong eyebrow. 

“If you want me to be, sweetie,” you shrugged. “But, uh -- and don’t take this the wrong way, Diego, but you don’t exactly have anything I’d want to steal.” 

“Then I’ll amend the question. What are you doing here?” Diego asked, finally turning to fully face you, taking in your form as you stood by his bed. The sight causing a pleasantly-unpleasant little something to prickle across his skin. 

No, no, it’s not like that, he chided himself. Besides. You were an absolutely monumental pain in his ass. And his head. And basically every other body part of his you came in contact with. Nope, nope... Don’t think about her body parts “coming into contact” with anything of yours, he scolded. 

“Aw, well now, Big Deal. Maybe I just missed you?” You mused. 

“Doubtful. Did you come back to kick my ass with your freaky little homicidal chokehold some more?” Diego snapped.

Ouch. Maybe you had gone too far in your last little encounter. After all, wasn't that why you were there? To check on your favorite knife-wielding antagonist? To make sure you hadn't actually hurt him?

But what came out instead was--

"Is there any other kind of chokehold?" You hummed, arching your brow. 

Before he could stop himself, Diego retorted, “Based on our last meeting, I think you know there is." 

Momentarily stunned into silence, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at the memory of his hands on your throat, you dropped your arms from where they were crossed at your chest down to your sides, hands flexing nervously. You chuckled.

"Heh. As tempting as that offer is, pretty boy, I only came to make sure I didn't ring your bell too bad."

Diego leaned against his dresser, tilting his head back and looking down his perfect, strong nose at you. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I must be going fuckin' deaf. Did you just say you slunk in here with your little kitten tail between your legs to say you were sorry?" Diego snorted, obviously pleased with himself as he saw the obvious fluster cross your face.

Okay, now he was pissing you off. You came here with good will and he sasses you? Two can play at that, as you two so often do...

"You must be fuckin' deaf, dipshit. I didn't say I was here to say I was sorry. I did say I wanted to make sure I didn't kick your sorry ass into oblivion. Which, you're obviously fine, so I'll just be going." You crossed Diego's room, breezing for the door.

Honestly, why did you think this was a good idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Diego caught your arm as you passed him in your hurried attempt at an exit. You gave a half-hearted tug to pull your arm from Diego's grip, surprised to find how firm it was. You turned your head to meet Diego's gaze, throat closing around your sudden nerves. Diego's eyes were molten, boring into you with quizzical questions and low-burning heat. His grip on your arm afforded you an insight into the unique blend that was his confusion and simmering passion.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Come on," Diego drawled. "You clearly know what I'm feeling. But I have no idea what you're feeling. You have me at a disadvantage. I don't like it."

"Every time we meet, I have you at a disadvantage," you snarked. At the brief hurt that flashed across Diego's face, you sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I meant what I said when I told you I was coming to check on you … I just--" 

You looked down at your feet, the laces in your boots suddenly incredibly interesting to you. Diego's other hand gently gripped your chin, his thumb pressing into its apex, fingers curled beneath your jaw.

"D-don't do that-- keep going. Tell me what you're feeling for once," Diego implored, eyes meeting yours once more, lips ever-so-close to yours. “Please,” he added, softly.

Had your heart been thudding like this the whole time?? Was your jacket always this hot? All you could hear was the pounding sheet of rain, pressing itself into your brain, growing fuzzier. Diego's proximity to your person was decidedly distracting. Wholeheartedly overwhelming. 

Could he really not tell what you were thinking? You were certain at this point it must be written all over your face. Were you not being obvious?? Your burning ardor for him creeping through every inch of your person, drowning your intentions and better sensibilities in anything and everything Diego Hargreeves. You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking.

"I'm feeling-- was feeling … guilty. The last time I saw you.. I h-hit you...  pretty hard. So, you win. I guess I am here to tell you I'm sorry." You brushed your fingers softly over the bruise that adorned his prominent, proud cheekbone. "I… I just wanted you to be okay. Because I think you were just trying to help. And that's stupid. It's stupid. I'm sorry," you hurriedly stammered. 

Diego relinquished his grip on your arm, allowing his hand to travel down your side until it met your waist. He cocked his head and studied your eyes with his own mercurial ones-- searching for any hint of mistruth in your confession, but seemingly finding none. 

After all, he too knew the honesty behind words that struggled to come out.

"You were… worried about me? You?"

"Let's not make a big thing of this, big boy. You're obviously fine. I shouldn't have come… An honest mistake. Won’t happen again," you started to turn your head, breaking his gaze. 

But Diego's grip on your chin firmed, forcing you to look at him again before surging forward and crushing his lips to yours. 

And, oh, this was bliss-- you were just sure of it. Your yearning manifested itself in the hand you had placed on Diego's cheek, cupping your hands to the sides of his face before dragging them back to thread through the closely-cropped hair at the nape of his neck, then passing your hands up through his longer hair toward the top of his head and tugging. You took advantage of the gasp Diego elicited at that sensation, sweeping your tongue into his mouth. 

Your shared lust bled through your connected skin, hands on faces and elsewhere…  washing over you both like warm static, a pleasant buzz akin to drinking just a little too much champagne. 

Diego’s hands tugged at the hem of your rain-dampened hoodie, tugging it over your head. Your newly-exposed skin prickled with goosebumps at the sudden chill. You had run over here in the rain, after all. Diego’s darkened, honeyed gaze reverently took in your form. 

Never one to waste an opportunity, you took the break in action as your chance to respond in kind-- peeling his skin-tight black crewneck shirt from his own gloriously-sculpted body. 

The two of you stood, staring at each other’s exposed torsos, ragged breaths dragging through the air of passion so-stifling the room like incense you’ve left burning for too long. 

Diego stared at your chest, breasts heaving from behind the scrap of lace that constituted your bralette-- were those piercings that made your nipples poke so prominently through the lace? WIth this realization, Diego felt himself harden. He lunged for you with a growl, scooping you by the waist and dropping you with a bounce onto his bed. 

His mouth latched onto your throat, sucking insistently while his powerful hands rested at the edges of the delicate lace trim of your bra, passing almost reverently across your ribcage. 

You gasped as he brushed a thumb over your nipple, feeling yourself growing wet beneath your leggings. You hmm’d a whine as Diego’s mouth found that spot on your throat, his thumb still rolling circles over your nipple. 

“D-Diego,” you gasped, sucking in air like you’d never properly breathed before.

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Take it off,” you glanced down at the scrap of lace that adorned your chest. “Please,” you intoned, sweetly. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Diego said,” creeping his fingers beneath the lace to lift it off your skin. Suddenly, with that preternatural speed he’d come to recognize as a gift of those who were enhanced, like himself, you seized his wrist and squeezed. 

“It wasn’t meant to be nice,” you ground out. “Take. It. Off. Now.” 

With that, you released his wrist, and Diego gripped the lace where it rested beneath your breasts with this two hands and tugged, ripping your bralette cleanly in two, exposing your tits to his roving gaze. 

“There you go, Big Deal,” you preened in satisfaction, taking your own hands from where they had previously been resting along his strong abdomen, trailing them down to the top of his jeans. You popped the button on his fly and began tugging his zipper down, before Diego caught your hand as quickly as you had just done to him. 

“I’ve got this, baby,” Diego assured. 

With that, he brought his mouth down to your left breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple, taking the hand still clutching your wrist and planting it above your head. He released your wrist, trailing his hand, down your side until it met the waistband of your leggings. He pressed his fingers beneath the waistband, raking his fingers under your panties, to where you wanted him most. 

As he dragged a finger through your wetness, you gasped out a keening sigh. Diego’s long fingers working magic against your center, rubbing up and down your slit before pressing one, long finger inside. He lifted his mouth from your breast, pressing it to yours to swallow your moan with a searing kiss.

After a few more moments, Diego slid his finger from your center, retracting his hand from your pants, his other hand coming to meet it, peeling your leggings and panties from you in one fluid motion. You lifted and wiggled your hips to assist him. As soon as the leggings were free from your legs, you wasted no time in wrapping your bare legs around Diego’s waist, locking your ankles behind him and pulling him to you, dragging your hands up his neck and into his hair, hissing in pained pleasure as you rolled your hips against Diego’s still denim-clad hardness. 

Diego groaned as he felt your hardened nipples press against his chest, the microscopic bite of cold from your piercings as they touched his warm skin made him sigh.

The room felt like it was bordering on a hundred degrees, the previously champagne-drunk feeling of your shared lust now replaced with a frantic urge to taste and mark every inch of the other as their own. 

As you continued to grind your hips into Diego, he kissed you deeply, tongue sliding into your mouth, running along your own tongue and teeth, tasting every bit of your want for him as he succumbed to the heated buzz of the room. 

Your power had its benefits, he reasoned, if it meant this would feel so… resplendent. 

The mutuality of your shared passion was enough to do you in. You couldn’t be imagining that Diego wanted you as much as you wanted him. If that wasn’t the case, you both wouldn’t be burning like this, writhing atop his bed with pent-up passion and aggression. 

Diego broke his hands from where they had previously been digging bruises into your hips, coming up onto his knees to start shucking his own jeans and underwear off. 

And oh, he thought, you were a vision. As he looked at you while he stripped himself, he was overcome. Your half-lidded gaze swimming with hazy, unfulfilled promises, swirling lazily like the drizzle of sinfully sweet syrup over something forbidden. Your lips were flushed, swollen and lightly bruised from the punishing pace of your shared kisses. Your wickedly luscious curves and the glimmering slick between your thighs on display for only him. In this moment, he felt he could die under whatever your power would dish out, if it meant he died feeling like this. 

Now bared to you in his entirety, Diego positioned himself once more between your legs, his impressive length sliding to where he had guided it along your opening. 

You tossed your head back, eyes closed at the glorious feeling of his skin finally meeting yours where you wanted it most… but, still, it wasn’t enough. 

“Di- eh - go,” you panted, your glimmering gaze meeting his lustrously darkened one. “P-please, I need it. I need you,” you cried piteously, clutching his shoulders and grinding your hips once more against him.

Diego chuckled, only to happy to oblige. With a guiding hand and a smooth flex-and-thrust of his hips, Diego entered you with a powerful, needed thrust. You cried out, sound going straight to his cock, twitching from its rightful place inside of you. 

“There, now, baby,” Diego crooned, bringing his mouth back to yours and humming into your open lips. “Doesn’t that feel ... So. Much. Better?” He punctuated each of his last few words with hard, firm thrusts of his hips. 

You nodded, eagerly fusing your mouths together, rolling your hips in kind to meet Diego’s sweet, but punishing thrusts. 

“After all that shit you pulled with me,” DIego ground out, “It’s nice to know-- this is what you really wanted. Fuck--” he broke off as you clenched around him just right. “This is what you needed.” 

You whined your assent, keening and high-pitched. 

“Mmmm, I want y-you, as much as you want me,” you gasped out, Diego’s brutal thrusting brushing your clit with his pubic bone, bringing you ever closer, closer, closer to that teetering edge. You lifted yourself up to balance on one hand and meet Diego’s face where he was hovering above you, your sweat-slicked bodies pressing into one another with a delicious, filthy heat. You looked into his eyes, your jaw slack with the stupidly good feeling of everything he was doing to you. 

You turned your head to face his sculpted shoulder, and grazed your teeth there, biting into the apex of his arm. Diego hissed, obviously pleased with the feeling, bringing his hand to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat and tearing your teeth away from his shoulder, guiding your mouth back to his with the pads of his fingers lightly pressing into your airway.

You gasped, the combined feeling of his kiss, his pressing, insistent touch, and his cock inside you brushing repeatedly against that spot of your inner walls causing you to clench, crying out your sudden, gushing release. 

Diego guided your head back to his pillow, clenching his fist, the same battered-knuckled boxer’s fist that had previously clutched your throat, now clutched around his bedframe as he hammered his final thrusts, pounding into you until he met his release, groaning as he came down from his sudden, bursting high. 

He sighed into your neck, the lovingly sticky heat of your sweaty bodies pressed together as he eased himself from you, pulling you into his side.

You sighed in contentment. 

Was everything Diego Hargreeves did punctuated with such beautiful, forthright power?

---

You both lie in the after, bodies pressed firmly together. It would have been romantically intimate had the primary motivator not been the lack of space on Diego's too-small mattress squeezed along the wall in his room. 

Nevertheless, you lie there in complete contentment, basking in the afterglow and Diego's delightfully even, rhythmic breathing.

Said lothario had his head turned into your cheek, nose brushing against your hair. His arm around you, curling you to him and trailing his fingers up and down your side at a slow, steady pace.

Why couldn't it always be like this? 

After all, fire doused with water still burns brightly at one time, but loses its penchant for destruction, tampered in cool, calming depths and leaving behind cooling steam. So, too, had you and Diego drawn a peaceable, but joyfully sweaty truce. 

In that moment, you could see yourself loving him. You know he'd let you, if you gave him enough time and enough of yourself. The man had not had enough love given to him in his life-- he fought for it, tooth and nail. And had come up woefully empty, like clutching at soft sand that slips through your fingers. He'd had the love of his siblings, sure. But this was -- understandably-- different. You recognized a chasm in him that you often thought you'd never mend within yourself. 

But he was so deserving of love. Whereas you? Well, the jury was still out. 

When you think of Diego, you couldn't help but think of strength. Assuredness. Agility. His aura burned red in your deeper sentiments. Power. You do associate his memory with annoyance, sure, but also a biting wit that he so-oft concealed. And an endearing sentimentality. And an iron will suffused with stubbornness.  

You had gleaned some of this from your foray into exploring his emotions, sure. But you don't use your power at every turn. The rest of it was every impression Diego had devastatingly left you with. You had learned so much of him, you yearned to share a piece of yourself, similarly eager for acceptance. Which then prompted you to share--

“You know,” you piped up in the dark, “You remind me a bit of the main character of my favorite books series-- Ever hear of ‘The Dark Tower?’ You know, the legendary Gunslinger?” 

Diego scoffed at that.

“Guns are for pussies, real men throw knives,” he stated primly, but still unable to conceal the smile in his voice.

“That sounds a little rehearsed, Big Deal. But I’ll let it slide. Besides, you don’t know what you’re missing,” you acquiesced, turning your head to face him, your noses brushing.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m not into all that bookworm stuff. Cuz, ya know, I’m not a fuckin’ virgin,” he chuckled. Obviously pleased with his middle school-grade burn. 

You met his eyes, yours widening in mock surprise. “Oh no?” you gasped. “Well, then why do you dress like one?”

Honestly, it had to be some kind of world record, how fast Diego’s face fell.

"I'm kidding, big boy. You know I dig the black leather," you crooned. Ever eager to smooth the waters of this moment, of his now furrowed brow, back to the placid lake it had been.

"You're goddamn right, you do," Diego chuffed, his grin now prominent in his voice.

You looked at him, your eyes travelling between his shining, ochre eyes and his full lips.

"I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye. 

“I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind.

"I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart," you recited.

Diego regarded you for a moment before brushing his lips across yours, kissing you warmly.

"What was that?" He asked.

"'The Dark Tower,'" you replied. "What? I like to read. You really do remind me of him. Surly, but just. Lost, but ever-searching. Pinpoint accuracy. Deadly. But hasn't lost hope." 

Diego kissed you again, running his hand down your body beneath the covers to grip your bum and roll your body over his, urging you to tarry with him on another burning exploration of one another's bodies.

Yes, you think, sighing as Diego's teeth graze that spot on your neck, his warm palm on your breast. You could easily fall in love with him… if you let yourself. You were probably more than halfway in love with him already.

Oh, no.

---

You awoke to the early-morning sun peeking weakly behind the remnants of fat, overstuffed rainclouds from the night before, purpling the sky as sunlight met grey. 

You took in Diego’s, sweet sleeping form-- his long lashes fringing his sweetly-closed eyes, his cropped hair mussed from a night of tugging, rolling, writhing. He breathed deeply, evenly, peaceably, as evidenced by the repetitive motion of his muscled torso, his long-fingered hands resting along his stomach. 

You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t taint someone so noble and beautiful with your special brand of poisonous manipulation. 

You couldn’t stop yourself as you spoke softly to the sleeping man beside you, coming to sit on the edge of his bed and brushing one hand through his soft hair. 

“You wanted to know about my power? It’s a curse. You think I want this? This? It’s isolation, Diego-- it’s eternal damnation. I shouldn’t be able to do what I can do …  No one should. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse. And it dooms me to a life alone,” your voice cracks as your breath catches in your throat, hitching over tears that were now, suddenly pooling in your eyes. “There’s no trust. It’s what I … It’s what I deserve.” 

With that, you left Diego’s room. Leaving him to wake alone to a cold one-half of his bed, fingers clutching over air and the warm memories of the night before. He blinked in confusion, the sting of your rejection settling beneath his skin. 

---

When you saw Diego again, it was nearly a month after your last… encounter. The sharp knife of anxiety and longing you so regularly felt in yourself since that day, you recognized immediately as emanating from Diego as you watched him limp away from what you assumed was a particularly nasty fight. 

“Big Deal!” You shouted across the street and through the darkness. 

Diego’s head whipped up, head turning to the direction of your voice, before meeting your gaze. He shook his head, looked away, and kept walking. Away from you. 

Ouch. 

Honestly, you could understand why he would. You had done the same to him a month ago. Walked away. But the pinging sting of his rejection dug at you, like glass into the thin skin between your knuckles. 

All you had ever wanted was for other people to understand. But mostly, now, you realized… You really only cared that Diego understood. 

You took off after him, enhanced speed helping you catch up to his limping form outside of a boarded-up, long-closed bar. 

“Diego!” You called, stopping in front of him, causing him to halt.

“What could you possibly want with me, after all this time?” Diego spit.

“I.. I deserve that, Big Deal. I do,” you glanced at your boots, scuffing the toe into the pavement. “Please, just… hear me out?” 

You looked up at Diego. Really looked at him. His beautiful, tawny skin damp with sweat from a fight, his usually bright and mischievous eyes sunken under the weight of tired bags that sat beneath them. He looked drawn, more exhausted than you remember. You caught sight of a particularly nasty, jagged cut on the side of his neck that had clearly only recently stopped bleeding, the splotching clot like a raised, splintering cut from a large cat’s claws. A particularly nasty bruise was already forming around his left eye and onto his beautifully-sculpted, prominent cheek. 

You rushed to meet him, your fingers coming to brush along his cheeks, mindful of the bruise. He closed his eyes at your touch, lashes fanning downward in defeat. 

“Who hurt you? What did they do, Big Deal? Who the fuck did this? If anyone hurt you, I would make them hurt. I’ll make them pay”

Diego dropped the knife you now noticed was previously-clutched in his right hand, bringing his hand to meet your wrist. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“Don’t do what? Kill the fucker who hurt you? Fine, I’ll just break their knees--” you started, before Diego shushed you.

“No,” he said, “Shut the fuck up. D- Don’t act like you give a shit. Someone who gives a shit wouldn’t bounce for a fuckin’ month. Not after a night like that.” 

Your hand left Diego’s face. 

“I… I deserve that,” you said. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” And with that, you plopped yourself onto the pavement, sitting on the sidewalk at Diego’s feet. Annoying? Sure. Dramatic? Sure. But if something is stupid and it works, then it isn’t stupid. 

Diego sighed at you, rolling his eyes before coming to sit beside you, gasping out in pain and clutching an obviously bruised rib or two on his way down. 

“Fine. Tell me what the fuck happened. Why’d you go?”

“Diego--” you started… “I-- I can’t be with someone when I’m like this. It never works,” you confessed. 

“Like what?” He pressed, bringing his hand to your knee. 

“I’m-- I’m a monster,” you cried. “Adler knew it. Everyone I meet knows it. It’s only a matter of time before you know it too. I just… I don’t know how to stop.” The tears you thought you could hold at bay were now creeping up and causing your throat to close around your words of contrition. 

“You’re not--” Diego began, but you silenced him with a harsh wave of your hand. 

“You don't understand. You wanted to know how it works? I’ll tell you. The power works based on the other's emotion, sure. I amplify what they feel. Cripple them with it, even. But that's not all… it only works, really works, if it's something I can draw on. They feel what I want them to feel-- because I feel it too …" you admitted. “Everything I ever do to someone else I can only do because I know how it feels. If I want someone to hurt, they’ll hurt… I -- I don’t want to do that to you, too.” 

“You won’t. Not with me,” Diego pressed. 

“And how can you be sure? Even now, I feel how pissed you are at me for leaving. It’s humming beneath your skin. I can feel it.” 

Diego nodded, picking up the knife he had previously dropped and beginning to spin it around in his hand. 

“I know it because I felt it. When we were together,” he sighed. “We both, we both can do these things. Anyone else would piss themselves if it was turned against them. But you look the danger of what I am in the face, and you laugh. When we’re together, we’re matched. The way that room felt? I know what that was.” 

You sat, stunned at Diego’s read of the situation. 

“I take back what I said the first night we met,” you said. At the question in his eyes, you continued, “You’re not dumb. That was… that was… something. But I know how to flex my power. I know what fells all men. Fear is a powerful emotion." 

Diego smiled at you. 

“I hate to break it to you, princess, but I’m not scared of you. I know you think I am, but I’m not. And you know what's even stronger than fear? Love."

You looked at Diego, blinked. He blinked back. You then turned your head with a mocking, retching, gag.

"Jesus, Big Deal. They teach you ‘Hokey Catchphrases 101’ at Dysfunctional Superhero Camp?"

“Hey,” he jostled your shoulder with his. “You know I’m right.” 

You stood, offering Diego your hand.

“Come on, big boy. Walk me home?” 

Diego acquiesced, coming to stand with a stifled grunt. 

“You’re lucky I heal quickly.” 

With that, the two of you walked down the street. You matched Diego’s stride, mindful of his injuries. As you walked side-by-side, your fingers brushed. Before you could stop yourself or think better of it, you took Diego’s hand. 

When you reached your door, you turned to Diego, fiddling with your keys. 

“Everyone’s distinct, you know? Everyone feels differently. Wears their hearts on their sleeve, so to speak. But with everyone, it’s a different emotion. Some flaunt pride. Some are more passive. Do you want to know what I feel when I see you?” 

Diego glanced down to where your hands were still joined. He brought them up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I want whatever you’ll tell me. You’re such an open book,” he admitted sarcastically. You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, I’m being serious here. You feel... you feel...” 

At Diego’s urging look, you continued. 

"You feel like warmth. Like I could wrap myself in you and never feel the biting cold of my heart again. And when you're not around? The absence of you is worse than any feeling I could ever exploit. I hate it when you aren't here."

Diego stared at you in silence for a moment, before he spoke, “I really think you should open the door now and let me take you inside.” 

You smiled, pleased that your honest confession had gone over well, the smile morphing into a smirk. 

“As you wish, Big Deal.”

And in the morning? Well, In the morning, you and Diego were still wrapped up in one another. 

You looked into Diego’s swimming, honey-and-tar eyes, tracing your palms down the sides of his jaw and cupping his cheeks as you told him, “You have my whole heart. It’s yours -- crush it, hold it, bury it in whatever you feel ... Do whatever you want with it, I don’t care. Just say you want it-- that you want me.” 

“I want you.” With that, he kissed you deeply.

---

You were a master of emotional manipulation. To do that, you had to have a decent handle on your own emotions. For years, you’d rested on your own laurels of your mastery of self, indulging only in the most passing of forays into others’ feelings for the sake of your own.

So why on Earth were you so fucking nervous? Why couldn’t you get it under control?

Yet, here you were, hand in Diego’s, fingers laced, on your way to Hargreeves Manor to meet his siblings, months after your mutual confessions of want. The two of you had been inseparable. 

Diego clearly sensed your unease, because he turned to you, squeezing your fingers in his own, planting a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“They’ll like you,” he promised. 

“How can you be so sure?” You worried, trying to keep all of them straight in your mind based on Diego’s stories, anecdotes and descriptions. 

“Because I like you, and they love to annoy me. So they’ll definitely want to buddy up,” he chuckled with a shrug. “Baby, you’ll be fine.”

With that, you found yourself standing in the ornate living room with five nonplussed persons who introduced themselves to you one by one.

As the largest of the group approached you, you beat him to the punch.

“You must be Luther,” you said, pumping your arm in a handshake where his hand comically dwarfed yours. 

Luther blinked. “How did you know?” 

"Easy,” you said, “You look like a 'Number One.’ " 

Luther straightened, obviously pleased. "Important?" he asked.

"Self-important."

This caused the lithe one with the smudged eyeliner who had introduced himself with a wink as, “Klaus, darling,” to howl with laughter. 

“She’s fuckin’ got your number, Luther,” he gasped out between his chuckles. He turned to the seemingly-empty air beside himself and said, “I know! She is fun!” 

The group found itself sitting around the living room on the various, overstuffed furnishings, in a fun little Q-and-A circle, which was only getting easier all the time, as you found the Hargreeves siblings’ obvious bond to be so endearing. The glamorous one you knew to be Allison had queried about your power, curious as to how you and Diego had met. 

Diego had recounted your first meeting to the group, and proffered an explanation of your powers with, "She takes the idea of 'wrapped up in your emotions' and makes it literal."

“And how did this come about?” Klaus queried, gesturing his long fingers between you and Diego. “It’s not like that first meeting was full of warm-and fuzzies.”

“I don’t know … We’ve …  run into each other a few times,” you offer with a shrug and a shy grin. 

Klaus clapped his hands, a large grin adorning his face.

“Oh-ho! I like this. Diego’s girlfriend beats the shit out of him on the regular!” Klaus happily sang to the massive living room. “Or is that how you two, you know, keep it exciting?” he intoned to Diego in what must have been the world’s loudest and worst attempt at a whisper.

“She does not beat the shit out of me,” Diego protested, rolling his eyes at his brother’s swaggering antics.

“Right, right, you beat the shit out of each other. Honestly, I get it. Kinda hot. No judgment from me, you crazy kids,” Klaus smiled and held up his hands in surrender, flashing you the “Hello” and “Goodbye” on his palms. “Diego told me about you the day after you first met. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it myself when I’m ever-so-alone at night,” he added with a wink. 

All you could do was chuckle. Who couldn’t love Klaus Hargreeves? 

After that, the questioning from the gathered siblings dissipated into a casual little party, with people pairing off to speak in groups of just them, and with drinks from the open bar being passed around amongst the siblings. Even Five. If you were honest, it was strange to see a thirteen-year-old boy drink frozen margaritas. But you’d had to remind yourself that he was actually older than all of you. Honestly, you’d tried not to think about it too hard. 

In between drinks, you found yourself engaged in silly banter with Klaus and Vanya, laughing at Klaus’s stories of eating bagels from dumpsters and his bantering memories with their brother Ben. You responded in kind with stories of your own-- making your elementary school teachers believe they’d had crushes on one another by exploiting their repressed desires, making your classmates piss themselves every Halloween with some prank or another ...

While Vanya was a bit more reserved with her amusement, you’d caught a smile playing at her lips. Klaus outright howled. 

“Oh, you truly belong here, don’t you? Reggie would’ve haaaated you,” he gestured at the stern portrait of their father. “Which means you’re absolutely perfect for our dear Diego,” Klaus proclaimed, lacing his fingers through your own. 

With that, Klaus turned to you with a conspiratorial giggle and hmm'd into your ear, "You know what they say, peaches. 'A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly.' And if we're being honest, Diego deeeeeeefinitely thinks he's fly." 

You laughed, choking on your sip of margarita. You’d never felt a kind of discordant unity like this one. 

With Diego’s family… with Diego, you felt like you truly did belong.

As you and Diego lay together in bed after the day with his family, he’d asked if you felt comfortable.

“Of course, love.” You pressed a small kiss to the tip of Diego’s nose, nuzzling your own against his. “They were wonderful. You’re wonderful. Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”

Diego gazed lovingly at you, eyes, a deep, endless pit of an eclipse, brimming with golden honey streaks of mischief. 

“I can’t wait to share everything with you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your shoulder and settling beside you comfortably. 

Ah. So that’s what that warm, soft, cotton-y, cloud-like feeling you had begun to experience since you’d began your relationship with Diego was ... Comfort. Funny how it blended so seamlessly into the burning, cinnamon-tinged, blooming one you’d come to recognize as his love.

---

Tagging: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @winters-buck @qveenbvtch @forever-rogue @ali-cide @fleetwoodmactshirt @stellarkyun @zeldasayer @ayeayecaptaingally @nappingtopknot @holographic-carmen @mandaloriane @pascalplease @phoenixhalliwell @white-wolf-buckaroo @melon-eyes @pancakepike @noturjacky @johnc0nstantine @amarachoren @outrebanx @yespolkadotkitty @agentpike @cryptkeepersoul @netflixandzayn @deadpoolcouldshootme @manchuria @flhorah @halerune @spideymanreads @athousandbuckys @imagining-constantly @dovesgrangers @ravenoussss @pyrosag @rzrcrst​ 

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 11)

Chapter Summary: Bucky is ready for commitment.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: fluff. Bucky is so smitten.

A/N: It’s been 84 years, but I hope you have fun! Thank you, @lesqui, for reading it over and helping me out with English and everything. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

  Placing your hands on each side of your hips, you smirk at the popped-up screen in your office. Another project you just nailed. Ever since the promotion, your productivity has increased tenfold and you feel as motivated as ever, your creativity on a top level. Also, the last few weeks, after you decided you needed some time alone, you did set more focus on yourself and your own projects. Work being one of them.

It’s weird to say the least… you’ve been busier than ever and yet, it seems like you actually have much more time to yourself now. You’ve been reading books you’ve bought but never really got to read them, eating ice-cream at 3am as you watch The Return of the King for the millionth time, your drawers are finally organized and so is your precious DVD collection. You got to explore a great number of parks and spots you’ve never been before, even living in New York for so long. You’ve been going out a lot and catching up with friends and family. 

It was a good decision. You remember in your relationship with Eddie there were always obstacles for you to hang out with people outside the small inner circle of you as a couple. Sometimes the obstacles were subtle, and not always brought solely by Eddie, but also by you who let yourself get involved in that dynamic. You had no idea how much you missed people that were yours only, and not yours and Eddie’s.

It’s been great to be single. Really, really single for the first time in your adult life. No boyfriends or fiancées, no booty-calls or deals. Completely single… A title and state of mind you didn’t really get to enjoy in the first months of being broken up, being too heartbroken to even think of everything you could do with your life then.

Deciding to be alone for a while…It was a great and reasonable decision.

You have to admit something to yourself, though.

Sometimes you just wanna throw “great” and “reasonable” out of the window. Because you do miss him… A lot.

Finding out how he’s changed his mind and predisposition towards your relationship has messed quite a bit with your mind… and heart. You weren’t expecting that at all and now you don’t really know what to do with the chaos that’s bringing upon your feelings. And what’s making it even messier is the other guy who also changed his mind and predisposition towards your relationship… you weren’t expecting that either… however, that particular change of heart hasn’t been making your own heart jump each time you think of it…

Squeaky little yells and an animated chattering sound of female voices catch your attention to outside your office. Your previous smirk turns into a smile while you shake your head to yourself. That type of commotion only ensues when a certain someone drops by the Tech Department.  

With a wave of your hand, you shut down the screen you’ve been working on, before moving towards the sound. What you come to find a few stops outside your office, at the Department’s common area, is a little circle of your female coworkers around a Super Soldier. He’s always a hit among your coworkers, but today it seems like they’re even in a bigger frenzy, fussing around something that he seems to be holding in his arms. You attempt to catch an eye of it, but the bodies in front of you make it quite hard.

He spots you as you approach them and opens a huge grin at your sight.

You smile back at him just as widely and after you come closer and some of the girls make room, your eyes widen and a small little gasp slips out of you when you finally find out what the fuss is all about. They are all cooing and marveling at a beautiful cat on Bucky’s arms, white as snow on a mountain peak, standing there like royalty, staring back like they’re nothing but proud of being where they are.

“Hey,” Bucky greets, prompting your eyes to focus back on him.

“Hi, there,” you answer back while your gaze carries an amused question mark at him.

He lifts a hard drive with his free hand to your vision field, “We collected this last mission, it’s some alien stuff,” he offers you the drive, keeping his eyes on yours.

As you gaze at each other, you reach for the little device. His fingers brush against yours and that’s precisely when the chattering around both of you becomes nothing but a distant and vague noise that barely reaches your senses… until a loud clear of throat sound stands out.

“Alright, girls, let’s get back to our desks and let these two, ahm… work,” Camilla, your closest friend there, gives you a pointed look and a discrete curve curls the corner of her lips as she leads the group - which looks far from happy about it - away.  

When your gaze meets Bucky again, he’s got that shit-eating grin of his that tells you the little interaction between you and your friend didn’t quite skip from his attention.

You bite your lip and are about to say something when he beats you to it, “Sorry, I had to bring her with me.” He looks down at the cat on his arm and gives it a gentle shake, grinning down at her while she looks up at him before her incredibly blue eyes shut in what looks like sheer contentment, “This little girl right here started whining at the door when I was leaving… she just can’t leave my side anymore.” Bucky shrugs and ticks his tongue, before winking at you.

You chuckle, finding the surprising scene before you nothing less than adorable. The fact that you enjoy being in the presence of his charm again doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you say nothing about it, “It’s ok, of course. I love cats. What’s her name?”

“Y/N, this is Alpine. Alpine this is Y/N,” he introduces you two with pride lacing his voice.

“Oh, hello, Alp-” your attempt of petting the cat comes to an abrupt halt with you withdrawing your hand at the loud hiss the animal aims at you.

Your eyes snap at Bucky to see his jaw dropping and his eyes widening with a mix of shock and fluster, “Fucking Christ,” he gasps, before looking down at the cat who now licks its paws absentmindedly, “What the hell, missy? Apologize. Apologize now,” he scolds, gaining absolutely no reaction in response.

He scoffs, looking back at you with incredulous lifted eyebrows.

You laugh, mainly at his attempt of making Alpine apologize, “Don’t worry…” You wave him off, “How did that happen, though? I don’t remember you having a cat.” You narrow your eyes just when your head tilts.

He bites his lower lip before an almost cringing smile forms on his lips, “Oh well…”

 A FEW WEEKS BEFORE…

 “Weren’t the Skrulls, like, actually good guys?” Bucky frowns, shoving one of his post-missions Oreos in his mouth and crossing his ankles over the spaceship’s dash.

“Every bunch has its bad apple, I guess,” from the pilot’s seat Natasha shrugs, eyeing the apple in question from over her shoulder.

“You’ll regret this,” threatens the prisoner, who���s actually a Skrull slaver named Gragnon and has his hands and feet securely tied up, stuck on a sit at the back of the ship. Still, he tries to get up and advance towards the front, but a shield of red mist surges in front of him, making him fall back on the chair again with a growl.

Wanda, the third member of the party on that mission, smirks from her seat right behind Nat’s.

Nat rolls her eyes, “What a douche… Talos has been leading a search for him for years now, he’d be thankful we’re taking him to them. Feet off the dash, please.” 

Bucky quickly obeys, pulling down his legs to the floor as Wanda snickers.  

“In fact… we should thank the success of this mission to a certain someone, who came up with a device to break alien codes.” The cheeky smile on Wanda’s face as she started speaking only fades so she can shoot a glare back at the prisoner, who’s now revolved by a red mist dome.

“Damn right.” A dreamy little curl pulls Bucky’s lips as he swings on his seat and passes the bag of Oreos to Wanda.

“Jesus,” Nat scoffs, setting the ship on autopilot, before swirling her chair to see both Bucky and Wanda, “Could you ever imagine this could be possible? That this guy would someday be that smitten over someone?” she questions Wanda.

“Not in a million years. I don’t know Y/N that well, but I bow to her.” Wanda mimics the gesture before shoving a cookie in her mouth.

Bucky doesn’t even drop the dreaminess of his smile. He is smitten… completely… utterly… and fuck if that doesn’t feel damn good. He always thought that kind of feeling would be a pain in the ass, boring and painful. It is not. He feels like singing, dancing, hugging every human being and alien he comes across. Fuck, he would hug the Gragnon dude if it didn’t mean to get a kick in the ass from Natasha. It’s been ages that he doesn’t really get high on anything, but that feeling… he’s definitely hooked on it.  There’s not a doubt inside him anymore and he’s in love with being in love with you.

“So, spill it,” Nat crosses her legs, swinging on her chair “You really went to her place and poured your heart out to her? Right after her ex proposed to her?” She questions, “What did she say?”

“Well, first she thought I was kidding and laughed her ass off…” He shakes his head with the same dreamy little smile on his lips, “Then, when she realized I was not, she started crying and, of course, so did I.” He shrugs, ignoring when Nat and Wanda exchange looks, “She wasn’t expecting that from me at all, and, we can’t really blame her can we?” 

“Definitely not.”

“Nope.”

Bucky chuckles at the unison response from her friends before leaning over and snatching the bag of cookies from Wanda, before giving them the details of his talk with you, having their undivided attention.  “And she said she needs some time alone, being single, I mean, to sort her feelings out… Also, it seems like she doesn’t think I can’t deal with the kind of commitment that being in love requires,” he says with a mouthful.

“Oh, honey…” Nat tilts her head.

He notices the sympathy on hers and Wanda’s expressions and waves his hand to brush her worries off, “No, no. None of that. All in all, it went pretty well. As much as I wished it would be different, I think her decision is fair. At least she didn’t say yes to the jackass with the ring,” he huffs, “I wasn’t really expecting her to throw herself in my arms. At least, not just yet.” He smirks.

“What?” Natasha shoots a look at Wanda before turning to him, “You’re not stepping aside?”

Bucky snorts at the question, “Are you kidding me? The first broad I ever fall in love with and you think I’ll leave the path free for that short little clown who thinks ten years matter?” He lets out an exaggeratedly loud laugh, “I’ve lived more than one hundred of them. Ten years mean nothing to me, and soon enough she’ll realize it doesn’t have to mean much to her, either.” A small smile rises on his face, “Of course she can have the time for herself she wants, find out what’s like being single. She deserves that. And she can think and figure out all she needs… have her fun... It’s all good…” He nods, “But in the meanwhile? I’ll be around romancing the shit out of that woman,” he states, right before tossing another cookie in his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Wanda addresses Natasha, with both eyebrows high on her forehead.

“I know…” Nat answers with an equally dumbfounded look on her face, before turning to Bucky, “Listen,” she sighs and tilts her head, “I hate to be such a killjoy here, but… I get you’re in love, and I know this is new and exciting for you.” She’s smiling before her lips tighten, “Having said that… I think she might have a point about you not being ready for commitment Bucky, you never wanted that. I’m gonna be honest here, I’m the one who set what you two had up because I thought it wouldn’t lead to this…” She waves all around him, “Feelings, I mean… and I would hate myself if you two ended up hurt because of it.” She focuses an apprehensive gaze on him while Wanda also rests her attention on him, looking like she agrees with her friend.

Bucky takes a good look between the two of them before putting into words the answer that’s so clear on his head now, “I know it may sound weird and uncharacteristic of me. Trust me, I know that.” He nods at Natasha, taking a moment to silently communicate with her in the way that has been always so easy for the two of them, “You’re right, I’ve never wanted that. Settling down to just one person, commit to a long term relationship…But with her,” he sighs and the corner of his lips curl up without further notice, “I want her and I want all of that with her, the whole package. I’m ready. I’m not afraid. I think the reason I didn’t want all of that before is because I hadn’t met her yet. That’s it. Simple as that. I know it’s not going to be easy, but to hell with easy. I want her. And I want her hard.”

Wanda already has a huge grin on her face when a satisfied little smirk twists Nat’s lips, “That’s what Amanda said.”

Bucky’s eyes widen before he squints at her, “What’ve you been up to?”

Nat puts on a nonchalant face and reaches forward to grab a cookie from the package. She takes a bite and shrugs, “Poor girl… needed some comfort after being let down by your buddy down there.”

Bucky lets out an outraged scoff and throws a cookie on her way, from which she dodges easily as she laughs, “I bet you were of great help in consoling her… Jesus… Amanda and you? The world isn’t ready.” He shakes his head.

Natasha sports a smug smile on her face when she nods her agreement, “You’re not wrong.”

“Alright, as much as I want to hear all about this Amanda girl, we’re getting close to the Skrull base now and we need you to land us, Nat,” Wanda nods towards the dash.

“Copy that,” Natasha makes a military salute at her, before shifting her seat and taking control of the ship again.

“And as for you,” Wanda turns to Bucky, “I don’t need to read what’s on your mind to know you’re telling us the truth. You’re ready for commitment,” she offers him a soft smile, which he reciprocates, “And if you really wanna show her that, I may have an idea.” Her smile turns into a devious little smirk and that’s enough to pique Bucky’s interest.

~~~

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bucky asks, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks alongside Wanda through the busy sidewalks of Manhattan, “I mean… I know I said yes, but it is one hell of a commitment, what if it’s not for me?”

“Don’t worry, Bucky,” she smiles, “We’re just gonna take a look around, feel the vibe, and then see what happens. You don’t have to decide anything just yet,” she assures, wrapping an arm around his elbow as he looks down at her, “I just think it’s a good idea for you to get to know a bit more of this sudden inclination to commit…to experiment, I guess,” Wanda shrugs, “Besides, a dear friend of mine runs the shelter and the girl knows her stuff. If she feels like you’re not ready, she won’t allow you to get out of there with one of her babies.”

Bucky lets out a laugh. Feeling a little lighter about the subject, he places his hand over the one Wanda has wrapped around his arm, “Alright… I’m not opposed to the idea of having a dog, I guess. I always loved Labradors…” he frowns, “I would have to switch apartments, though…”

“Look at you.” Wanda nudges her shoulder on him, “Already making plans for your child…”

“Child…” Bucky can’t help but snort. He had agreed to Wanda’s idea of going to an animal shelter because he thought it would be a good way to show you he’s ready for commitment and, like he said, he’s always been fond of dogs and he’s sure if he ends up taking one home he’ll treat them well. But he also never understood how some people could be so attached to an animal to the point of considering them a child, or family…“I don’t know… I’m definitely not taking a pet home today. I agree with you, I shouldn’t decide anything just yet.”

As they walk past a small alleyway, Wanda halts, forcing him to stop with her.

“What?” Bucky frowns down at her.

“Shhh,” she brings a finger to her lips, staring towards the alleyway, “Listen.”

That’s when Bucky’s enhanced hearing catches the thin and shaky little sound coming through the trash cans.

“Come on,” Wanda pulls him to the alley and towards the cans.

What they find behind one of the containers, among all the filth around is a ball of white fur. Curled up and shaking just like the meows they heard seconds ago. A cat, a young adult white cat looks up and a pair of baby blue eyes meets Bucky’s and he just can’t look away from the plea on them and it’s just when something clicks inside his chest.

“Oh, no, look,” Wanda points at the tail, that has an evident injury on it, but when she leans down to examine it further, the animal flinches and rushes towards Bucky’s legs, letting out another trembling and weak meow. Bucky freezes as it starts climbing up his calves. 

Given the poor coordination on their back little legs – probably from the damage on the tail- it can go much higher,  but keeps trying. After the initial surprise, Bucky can’t help but to smile at the little fighter, who seems to reach out at him for protection. Next thing he knows, he’s leaning down and picks it up with all the caution he can muster.

“Hello, little lady… what happened there, huh?” He coos, nodding towards the small injury, which looks like a bite, having the cat meowing while bumping and rubbing the head against his chest.

“Is it a female?” Wanda tilts her head, an amused and questioning expression on her face.

Bucky smirks, not taking his eyes away from the animal, who is now quiet and seems much calmer, but digging her little claws on Bucky’s shirt, “I know a beautiful lady when I see one. Don’t I, gorgeous?”

A purring sound comes out of the now contented animal, the small injury on her tail apparently not being a problem anymore while she climbs higher and practically hugs Bucky with her little paws, whose fur is smudged by dirt, making his heart take a flip in his chest. Damn his heart nowadays…

“Aww, Bucky…” Wanda smiles, placing her hand over her heart, “What are we going to do? Should we take her to the shelter?” Wanda offers, with a bit of tentativeness on her voice.

Bucky’s eyes widen largely, before they snap to her friend. A protective tightness laces his hold on Alpine, who lets out another weak meow. Shit… Alpine? When the hell did he even come up with a name? Fuck if he knows, all he knows he’s done for and can’t possibly think of parting from that white furry little thing, who seems to have gone through a lot in her life already and probably has never met with human kindness before.

He doesn’t need to say anything as understanding falls upon Wanda’s face. He would even guess there’s a bit of pride adorning the smile on her lips now, “Alright, alright… we do need to take Alpine to the vet, though, Mr. I’m not gonna take a pet home today.” She winks.

~~~

PRESENT DAY…

“Oh well…” Bucky scratches the back of his neck while you keep your beautiful interested eyes on him, “I found this beauty on the street… she had an injured tail, poor thing… probably bitten by a dog. But she’s fine now, aren’t you, sweetie?” He coos, putting on the new tone of voice that belongs to Alpine now and loving the sound of your chuckle, “You know… I’m fully committed to taking care of her. I’m a cat dad now.” He says, putting some effort to highlight the word “committed”.

“I can see that…” you comment, nodding with a glimmer of fondness in your gaze at where Alpine is cuddled against him with eyes closed, completely relaxed.

Bucky looks down and smiles. That one is too cute for her own good, but he’s definitely having a talk with her later, for hissing at you like that, like he hadn’t given her a lecture about good behavior and how incredible you were before they left home.  

“So, it’s been a while, huh? How’re you doing?” He asks softly, boring his eyes on you and holding back every ounce of him to not pull you to his arms and shower you with all the intense love he’s gathering in his chest at your sight in front of him. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have spent those long weeks apart from you, but he met with missions and an Alpine in the way. Also, as much as he’s resolved to show you he’s the one for you, he understands you needed time for yourself. But, hell, he missed you so much.

“Oh, I’m good, I’m good… pretty good,” you ramble, brushing a finger behind your ear, that thing you do when you become a bit self-conscious, which happens often when he places his gaze so intently on you.

He can’t help but smile, his chest impossibly swelled with his feelings for you, because that woman who becomes all flustered with his attention is the same woman who whined to suck his dick while shitfaced after a party. Damn, he’s so in love with you.

“That’s great...Are you free tonight?” He asks, smoothly, “Wanda and Sam will make hamburgers, they’re one hell of a team in the kitchen, you’ll be welcome to come if you want to.”

“Oh… I…” You falter.

“I’m not trying anything, I promise,” He’s quick to add with a chuckle and raises his free hand up, noticing the trepidation in your voice. “Everyone’s gonna be there. We’re just gonna eat and hangout.” He shrugs.

“Oh… no, it’s not that, it’s just…” You tighten your lips “I’ve got plans.” Something Bucky guesses to be disappointment or something like that sweeps into your voice. As for him, he holds his breath, bracing himself for the news that you’re going out with that douche of an ex, “I’m gonna meet some friends from college tonight. I got a reservation for us for dinner and then we’re gonna go dance…”

Bucky lets out a breath and the smile that grows in his face is wide when he says, “Oh, alright. That sounds like fun.” Really, really fun, especially if that jackass isn’t involved. He’s not disappointed. Far from it.  

You smile back at him, matching his mood. It doesn’t slip from his attention that you seem a bit surprised by his reaction at you declining an invitation from him in favor to hang out with your friends, but he says nothing of it.

“Yeah… I’ve been getting reacquainted with them lately,” you say, excitement plastered on the little curve of your lips and the glint in your eyes, “It’s been fun. I’d love to get to know Wanda and Sam’s talent in the kitchen, though….Maybe some other time?” You offer.

“Sounds perfect, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment brings the effect he was aiming for when you promptly does that thing with your finger on your ear again, but it was also noticed by the other girl in the room and currently in his arm, who seems to wake up from her comfort slumber against his chest to hiss at you again.

You look at each other in widened eyes.

“What the hell,” Bucky scolds down at the cat, glancing at you briefly, catching your now amused expression, before addressing Alpine again in a whispery voice, “We’re gonna have a talk back home, young lady.”

~~~

“What a number you put out there, huh?” His voice is gentle despite the reprimanding intention in his words while Bucky crouches and fills her little plate with the special food the vet recommended.

With her crystal-clear eyes glued on the plate, Alpine doesn’t really acknowledge his half attempt of admonishing her before digging in.

Bucky chuckles, “She’s cute, isn’t she? But so are you,” He scratches the back of her ear and she stops eating for a moment to brush her head against his hand, “You don’t have to be jealous, doll. You’re so cute, you’re my girl, too, you know?” he coos, still petting her, “But you gotta help me out there buddy. Ok? She’s really special and I know you’ll love her, too.”

Alpine lets out a weak meow before getting back to her plate and Bucky swears to God he sometimes wonders if the cat is some sort of shapeshifter in disguise, understanding every little thing he says.  

Letting her out to eat, he stands up, “Hey, Friday,” he calls.

“Yes, Bucky?”

“Could you search for a table reservation in the name of Y/N Y/L/N tonight? I need the address of the place.”

A small silence ensues before the A.I speaks again, “Isn’t it a bit creepy?”

He sighs, placing his hands on his hips, “Friday… babe…” He smiles at the giggles that resound in his kitchen, before bringing a hand to his heart, “I’m in love, ok? I’m not gonna ruin her night…If anything, I’m just going to make her night out with her friends more… interesting.”

“Alright, you know I can’t say no to you,” the A.I concedes, “You can find the address in your phone’s map. Good luck, handsome.”

“Thanks, babe,” Bucky grins, before turning to Alpine, who’s now about done with her food, sprawled on the floor busy with cleaning out her paws, “And you?” He calls, catching her attention before he points at her, “You’ll have burgers with your aunt Wanda. I have plans for tonight.”  

~~~

To be continued...

[phykios]

this one is dedicated to mi amor mari @perseannabeth, who is a beautiful bird and a wonderful friend and i am v v vvvvv grateful to have crossed the airwaves with her :”)

Today Was A Fairytale [read on ao3] T, modern royalty, fun at disneyland!

She stares at him. 

He stares back. “What?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You really think this is going to be enough?” Annabeth points at her head, the blue Yankees cap squishing her curls. 

“Of course! It’s the Clark Kent effect.” As if to underline his point, Percy slips on his fake hipster glasses, except that stupid grin of his is too bright not to draw attention. 

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Sure it is. Studies show that glasses are actually good enough to alter your appearance if someone doesn’t know you well.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a pair of glasses for me?”

“Because your hair is definitely the prettiest thing about you,” he says, automatically tugging an unruly curl which peeks out from under the brim, a gesture so practiced she almost doesn’t register it--until he blinks, dropping his hand, blushing lightly. “I mean--the most noticeable thing. You know. A hat should be fine.”

He looks away. Heat rises to her face, too. Because it’s so hot out, obviously. 

“Anyway,” he mumbles, “um. No--no one’s going to give you a second look if your hair is hidden.”

Chewing her lip, Annabeth can’t help but worry. Percy’s face is extremely well-known, possibly more than hers, and they’ve both spent the better part of three weeks with their faces plastered all over the media on their diplomatic trip. This is probably a really, really bad idea. Then, a thought occurs to her. “How about,” she says, perking up, “you give me your glasses, and I’ll give you mine.” From her backpack, she fishes out a pair of sunglasses, big and nondescript. He’ll practically be wearing a superhero mask with these.

Percy smiles again, and Annabeth thinks she might fly. “Perfect.”

Which is how Her Royal Highness Anna Elisabeth Ingrid Irene of Sweden and His Serene Highness Perseus Alexandros Ioannis of Thera play hooky from their day of boring meetings, insufferable dignitaries, and stuffy security guards, to go see the eighth wonder of the world: Disneyland Resort in California.

And how Annabeth eats her words as they make it past the security gate unchecked. “Eh?” He beams, nudging her with his elbow. “Eh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him back. “Shut up.”

***

[description: a tiktok video which depicts a line at Disneyland. the op, a black girl with braids, covers her mouth and looking into the camera, turning the camera to focus on the two people behind her. one is a tall boy with black hair and sunglasses, and the other is a blonde girl with a yankees hat and glasses. both are white. video text reads: “p sure the people behind me are prince percy and princess annabeth??? um?????”. background audio is a dubstep remix of the fight theme from undertale. end ID]

***

Maybe it’s a little weird, on account of her being actual royalty and all, but Annabeth has always been interested in princesses, both as a matter of historical record (history is awesome) and in the general sense. Like millions of other people, she, too, was raised on Disney movies and tales of princesses and true love, and she was just as captivated as the rest of them. She and Percy used to watch the Disney catalogue whenever their families held state visits for each other, staying up into the small hours of the morning, sharing some popcorn and singing along. 

Luckily for Annabeth, her favorite princess is holding a meet and greet at the Royal Hall.

“Excuse me,” Percy says, approaching Princess Ariel. Well, her cast member, anyway. “Could I get a photo for my friend?”

“Of course!” she trills, her blue eyes sparkling. “It would be my pleasure.” Holding her hand out, perfectly poised and graceful in a way that would impress even Annabeth’s stodgy etiquette instructor, she smiles, warm and welcoming, pivoting to bring Annabeth in for one of those weird, semi-awkward half-hugs. “What’s your name?”

“Anna,” says Annabeth. Hey, it’s not untrue. She’s a little leery of using any of her names, but Anna is common enough. Annabeth? Not so much. Even with her glasses and hat disguise, a little paranoia is justified, she thinks.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Anna,” she says, cheerful, with all the grace and charm of someone who doesn’t spend hours saying the same thing over and over again to excitable, temperamental children. What a trooper, she thinks.

“Don’t you recognize a fellow princess when you see one, your highness?” Percy says, grinning that stupid, smarmy grin of his. 

Annabeth glares. Oh, he thinks he’s so damn clever. 

“Oh, of course,” says Ariel, smoothly. “How could I have thought otherwise? Your highness.” And she curtsies to Annabeth, a short dip, her hand placed delicately against her chest. “Perhaps I can introduce you to my friend Anna, princess of Arendelle?”

Still smirking, Percy takes some more pictures, trapping Annabeth into smiling for the camera. She can’t be glaring daggers in her pictures, nor can there be video evidence of her kicking him--no matter how much she wants to.

And she definitely doesn’t miss the way Ariel not-so-subtly checks Percy out, eyeing him up and down.

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses as they leave the photo area, swatting him lightly, and he giggles. 

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him, though she definitely tries as they enter back out into the park proper, giving him just the barest hint of a cold shoulder. 

“Aw, come on,” Percy says. “I was just teasing.”

“You shouldn’t go around tempting fate like that,” Annabeth says. “Do you want to cause another international incident?”

Percy winces, no doubt remembering the Gateway Arch incident of 2008. 

“If someone recognizes us, we don’t have Zoe or any of her team to protect us,” Annabeth goes on. “Not that I think anyone here would try to hurt us, but…” But it’s a little nerve-wracking, being on her own like this. She hasn’t been alone like this for a really long time.

Wincing, Percy rubs the back of his head. “I guess I forgot you’re a little higher profile than me. Sorry.”

She doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s true. Percy, by his nature as the younger son of a largely defunct royal house, doesn’t have quite the same number of… issues… that someone like Annabeth might have.

Deflating, she uncrosses her arms. “It’s okay.”

“I should have asked you first.”

“It’s really okay,” she says. “No harm no foul.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, entirely serious. “I can call someone up.”

She knows just how long they’ve planned this, how many favors he’s called in and policies he’s sidestepped. Backing out now would just be a waste of a day. She shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just… feeling a little exposed, I guess. But, I don’t want to ruin all our plans. Let’s keep going.” She grabs his hand, squeezing a little.

“...Okay,” Percy says. “But say the word, and we’ll call it a day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Like he doesn’t have any other expression today, he smiles at her again.

It hits her, suddenly. He’s so much taller than she remembers. Once upon a time she used to be taller than him; now, he’s basically a whole head above her. 

It’s annoying. But also… not.

Spying something over her shoulder, his eyes light up, and he practically gasps. “Cinderella!” he points with his free hand, like a five-year old. “Come on!” And he takes off to one of the park corners, dragging Annabeth along with him. 

He has to wait in line behind a pair of twin girls, six or seven years old by the looks of it, in identical Cinderella dresses for a photo, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and when it’s finally his turn, he nearly trips over himself to go up and ask for a photo. 

Cinderella agrees, and now Annabeth is relegated to the job of cameraperson. Percy slides in next to the princess, his hand on her waist, but, ever the respectful gentleman, loosely held, so the cast member can slide out of his grasp without any difficulty at all.

Taking a few shots, it does look kind of strange to have Cinderella’s beautiful, shining face, and Percy’s enormous sunglasses blocking his. “Take off your glasses?” she says, lowering her phone for a second. 

Dutifully, Percy slips them off, smiling again for the camera. 

Cinderella’s smile doesn’t falter, a credit to her professionalism, but Annabeth can see her eyes widen, just a touch.

Annabeth snaps off a few more photos, “Got ‘em!” and Percy once again gushes over the princess, thanking her for her time. Grabbing Annabeth’s hand again, he practically skips off, leading them in the direction of a nearby candy shop. 

***

me: IM SHAKING GUESS WHO I JUST TOOK A PICTURE WITH????

sis: prince percy?

me: HOW TF DID YOU KNOW

sis: its on twitter already

***

They’re walking along, Annabeth slurping up a Dole whip, when she suddenly stops in her tracks, outside of one of the many, many gift shops. “Wait up a second.”

“Hm?” Percy says, around the giant lollipop in his mouth. 

“I want to get some Mickey ears.” 

Very quickly they get lost in the sea of Disney merchandise, walking the labyrinth of Star Wars and Marvel and Pixar goods. There’s a surprising amount of black for the so-called happiest place on Earth, but things do brighten up when Annabeth finally turns a corner and finds the enormous selection of Mickey ears. It’s a wash of sparkles, flowers, bows, and occasionally characters, for children and adults alike. Annabeth eyes a pair designed like Baby Yoda, eyes wide and ears adorably huge, before she fingers a pair of white Mickey ears that have a bridal veil attached to them, contemplating its counterpart, the black ears for the groom, each ear emblazoned with a sparkling silver “Happily Ever After.”

She looks around. Where did Percy wander off to, anyway? 

Well, wherever he is, hopefully he hasn’t gotten mobbed by a horde of excitable fangirls. Given that she can’t hear any screaming--well, any unusual, non-Disneyland-relevant screaming--that’s probably a good sign. 

Running her fingers over the ear selections, she finally picks out a pair of silver sequined earrings with a shiny gold bow, a tiny, rhinestone Cinderella’s castle placed delicately in the middle. 

Yeah. This one. 

Percy finds her as she is paying for her ears, a pair of his own already on his head, red balloons inside of plastic circles. The sunglasses, she notes with a tinge of nervousness, are tucked in his shirt, and not on his face, protecting his identity. “Oh, check mine out--they light up!” he says, giddy, pressing the button on the side, not that she can tell in the brightly lit shop.

“That’s not why I was looking.”

Walking out of the store, ears firmly in her possession, she looks around again. Percy’s face is out there for the world to see, and no one is giving them a hard time. 

And her hat is really sweaty. 

Ah, fuck it.

She removes the Yankees cap, shaking out her sweaty curls, sliding the ears on in its place.

And the glasses, for good measure.

“Cinderella?” Percy asks.

“I thought you’d approve.”

Outside the shop, next to a corn dog cart, Percy pulls her aside, out of the way of a whole classroom’s worth of children, holding up a plastic plag. “So, confession.”

“Percy…” He didn’t. “We said no gifts!” They had agreed to it that morning!

“Well, see,” he says, fumbling around in the bag, pulling out a black t-shirt. “I saw this, and I thought--I thought you might like it.”

He unfolds it, and Annabeth frowns at the shirt design. 

It’s… a drawing of a man in a purple mask against a solid black background, glaring at the viewer. Circling him, in distressed, white-grey military font, are the words “BARON ZEMO,” and the logo for the show he must star in, Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. She doesn’t really watch superhero shows, though, and she’s pretty sure Percy doesn’t, either. Maybe he’s started this one and he really likes it? “Thanks,” she says, confusion coloring her voice despite her best efforts. 

But he doesn’t look too disappointed. “I was looking through their pride merch, and they didn’t have any stuff with the ace flag, which totally sucks, but then I thought that maybe you might like something a little more subtle? So, yeah.” He shakes it. “Ace pride!”

Oh. Oh, this boy. 

She remembers, so vividly, visiting his father’s summer home on Kalymnos, a few years ago, the summer she turned nineteen, waking up to a banging in the kitchen, noisy pots and pans making a real racket. Granted, it had been one in the afternoon, and Annabeth probably should have been awake sooner, but she had stumbled out of the guest room into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, to the sight of Percy wrestling with the standmixer, making bright, neon purple frosting. The night before, sometime around three or four AM, that weird, liminal hour where the shadow of night just starts to recede, the sky a sweet, soft, dusky blue, she had come out as demisexual to her best friend, saying the words aloud for the first time ever. Loopy from lack of sleep, the moment had passed without much fanfare.

But Percy, dark-circled and still yawning, had woken up early to make her a chocolate cake. By the time she had woken up, he had baked the cake, chilled it, and made two out of the three frosting colors, a beautiful, moist, dark chocolate cake which ended up being frosted with a marbled mix of purple, black, and white, all folding into each other into a kind of colorless, grey sugar. 

Here, now, in Disneyland, she throws herself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. His arms automatically come up to circle her, hugging her tight. 

She had been worried it had been some kind of defense mechanism. A young girl with an alarmingly high profile, Annabeth had been the subject of intense scrutiny with regards to any romantic entanglements, with critics, tabloid reporters, and fans alike attempting to invent gossip-worthy relationships with every boy she ever talked to--most usually Percy. They did grow up in the public eye together, attending all kinds of events and functions together over the last fifteen or so years. And they did tweet at each other. Like, a lot. They even had their own portmanteau hashtag. But no relationship ever materialized.

She thought maybe she was just being stubborn, unwilling to play the media game. But it hadn’t been stubbornness. It wasn’t about shyness or inexperience. It was real, and it was her.

And Percy hadn’t even blinked.

“I love it,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, swaying her from side to side, just a little. “It was my pleasure.”

***

What’s happening: #percabeth (Entertainment • trending)

@kndrck__ STREAM CHROMATICA: um @TheraUS @SwedenRoyals i think i found your sick royals? #percabeth #disneyland

@wasabiviking: omg werent they supposed to be at some hospital opening today #percabeth

@ChampionSno brando he/him: LMAOOO NOT #PERCABETH PLAYING HOOKY LIKE IT’S ROMAN HOLIDAY

***

“Holy shit,” Percy moans, his mouth full of food. “Oh my God. Dear God in Heaven.”

Annabeth kicks his ankle under the table. “Don’t be rude.”

He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Oh my God, Annabeth. Holy shit. This is the best damn sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“A monte cristo?”

“A deep-fried monte cristo! In sweet batter!” Taking another bite, he moans again, just this side of indecent. “Oh my God I love Americans. They are absolute culinary geniuses.”

“Better than Bistrot Chez Rémy?” They had both been to Disneyland Paris, separately, sadly, and Percy had recommended the restaurant to her with great enthusiasm for her upcoming trip. As usual, he was spot on with his food recs. 

He nods, eyes closed in rapture. “By a mile.”

“You’ll have to learn to make your own when we get back home, then.”

He jolts, straightening up, cheeks full of food. Roughly, he swallows. “You’re right! I need to take notes.” And he takes out his phone, hurriedly typing down whatever scent and flavor notes he must be able to discern. “This is definitely challah…”

Plucking another piece of chicken with her fork out of her jambalaya, Annabeth lets her attention wander a little, content to watch the passengers on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as they float on beside them, down in the artificially constructed bayou river. 

Truth be told, she’s kind of tired. They’ve been walking around all day, and even with the brief reprieve of rides, her shoes really aren’t the kind that deal well with huge amounts of walking. She can already tell that she’s going to crash, and crash hard, whenever they get back to their hotel. You know, if their security detail doesn’t eviscerate them first. 

When Percy had first presented his idea to her, she had agreed without hesitation. They had had a long, dense schedule of public appearances planned for their excursions to the states, and the days had begun to seriously wear them out. Together, they had worked out the kinks, coming up with contingencies, negotiating things to do, all over Discord so no one else would get wind of what they were doing. Prior to this trip, she hadn’t seen him in… probably almost a year. She knows his father had been keeping him close to home for whatever reason, and Annabeth had had a handful of official functions to deal with. Their paths just never managed to cross, up until now. 

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. 

It’s lonely, growing up in the public eye. It’s cliche, but it’s true. And while Annabeth is afforded a metric ton of various intersecting privileges, she thinks she’d probably give it up in a heartbeat. It kind of sucks being a living, breathing tourist attraction. 

Growing up, she had her cousin Magnus, and a handful of other assorted children to play with, but she would never say that she had a best friend, or even a good friend, until she’d met Percy. Her mother and his father, famous for their mutual dislike, had put aside their differences to host some kind of charitable dinner for the disgustingly wealthy, and had trotted out their respective children in all their finery. Annabeth, being all of twelve years old, hadn’t really grasped the gravity of the event, and had gotten into an itty bitty little food fight with the then-unknown Prince Perseus, the result of an extramarital affair whom his father had so graciously decided to acknowledge and adopt. 

After that night, they became fast friends, and she decided that, if she ever left the royal life, she’d make sure to take Percy with her. He’s one of the few things that makes her life bearable. 

She thinks about it, sometimes. Renouncing her title. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. There was Magnus, just in line behind her. And it’s not like her family held any executive power anyway. They’re just fancy, historically interesting celebrities. 

Would Percy give up his, she wonders?

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

He looks at her oddly over their dessert, two vanilla-bourbon creme brulees. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Long day.”

“You want to call it a night?”

She frowns. “What’s left?”

“Well, we did Space Mountain, Rise of the Resistance, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, a few others,” he counts off his fingers, “saw the princesses, got Mickey ears, ate at Blue Bayou… I guess all that’s left is walking around the pier, if you want.”

“Sounds like you two had a full day.”

As one, they almost leap out of their seats, Annabeth choking on her spit. “Jesus, Zoe,” Percy pants, his hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh?” says Zoe Nightshade, the head of their security detail, who had just apparently materialized out of thin air. “Funny. I could say the same about you, sir.”

Coughing, Annabeth eventually manages to get her air back. “Hey, Zoe,” she wheezes. “How was your day?”

“Eventful. Let me tell you about it in the car.”

Annabeth glances at Percy, who’s looking a little bit like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she’s surprised they even made it this far without one of their own tracking them down. Still, it looks like their game is up. 

...Or is it?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a large tour group, approaching on the horizon.

“Sure,” Annabeth says, getting up. Luckily, they’ve already paid, so they can just head out; they don’t need to wait for another big group of people to cross their paths. “Will you let us go to the bathroom, first?”

Zoe squints. She’s always been able to see through Annabeth’s bullshit. But Annabeth has her best, Percy-patented baby seal eyes on, perfectly innocent. Surely, Zoe wouldn’t deny them a physical need such as relieving themselves?

After a moment, she nods. “Make it quick, if you please.”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, looking over at Percy, hoping he gets the message. He stands up, slow and stiff, eyes darting between the two of them. “We’ll be right back.”

They wander through tables and chairs towards the bathroom, her eyes always on the tour group as it just starts to pass by. Reaching out, Annabeth grabs Percy’s hand, and with a turn that would make her track coach proud, sprints out of the restaurant, using the throng of people as cover. 

She thinks she hears Zoe yelling behind them, but maybe it’s just her own laughter. “Come on!” she shrieks, breathless, as Percy’s long legs keep pace with her. “To California Adventure!”

***

darthbingus said: the monarchy are fucking parasites but percabeth is pretty cute i guess :/

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: it’s obviously a publicity thing lmao, also prince Percy is gay???

eowynning reblogged and said: he’s dating rachel dare, right? he can’t be gay 

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: That was a publicity thing too obvs, and Annabeth hasn’t ever been linked to a guy. The king of thera is hardline greek orthodox, there’s no way he’d let his son come out publicly. They’re both gay and pretending to date because homophobia

lardoftheprks reblogged and said: people can be bi and ace and pan and all sorts of things you know

batgirlcock reblogged and said: can you animals leave them alone fr

***

Zoe only spots them after the ferris wheel starts moving. Sprinting over to them, they’re still a full forty feet off the ground by the time she reaches the operator. “Sorry!” she yells down to her, hands cupping her mouth. “We’ll be down in ten minutes!”

“Ananbeth!” he chokes, giggles still escaping him. 

“What?” she laughs. 

“We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

“Exactly,” she says, settling back on the ride. “You’ll probably be grounded for life.”

“Me?” he squawks, playfully offended. “What about you?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ll just pin it all on you.”

Leaning back, he pouts, arms crossed. “Wow. I plan this amazing day, violate a few embassorial rules, and probably put both of our countries on a massive red alert, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I helped plan it, too.” But he does have a point. “Thank you,” she says. “I had a lot of fun today.”

He turns his head to her, a grin stretching across his face. “Me too.” 

His voice is so soft, so fond. They share a look, a moment, no words between them, only the silence of a true, deep companionship. They don’t need to say anything else, because they already know what the other would say. 

As one, they break away, looking back out into the California evening. 

They don’t talk much as the ferris wheel climbs higher and higher. Honestly, Annabeth is kind of impressed with how well he’s handling himself--she knows heights are a bit of a weakness of his. He grabs the edges of their gondola every once in a while as it drops a few feet, knuckles white and face a little green, but he manages to keep his dinner down, even as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt, Percy and Annabeth at the top of the world. The swing back and forth a little, hot faces against the cool evening breeze. 

And they stay there. 

And stay there. 

And… stay there. 

Annabeth checks her watch. How long have they been up here?

Percy taps his feet, a little too frantic just to be ADHD. 

Finally, there’s a burst of noise from below them, garbled and static. “Uh, yes, excuse me--” the voice says, amplified through a megaphone. “Yeah, um, it appears we are having some… uh, technical difficulties with the Pixar Pal-A-Round. Please remain calm, as we have our best technicians on it, and we are working on evacuating the ride in a calm and efficient manner.” Then the voice cuts out. 

Annabeth glances towards Percy. He has his hands in his lap, fists clenching and unclenching, over and over again. “Uh… you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Percy says, “just fine. Peachy keen.” He squeezes his eyes shut, slowly blowing out his breath through his mouth. 

“Hey.” She reaches over, and takes one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. After a long day of holding hands, somehow it still manages to surprise her, how well they fit together, how her skin tingles as she rubs her thumb against his finger. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be just fine. They’re going to get us off this ride, and then we’ll fly home and be grounded for life.”

“I thought,” he wheezes, “you’d blame it all on me?”

“As if you could come up with a plan as genius as hiding from our guard in It's A Small World.”

He nods, shakily. “Right. All you. Definitely not my idea. Everyone knows I’d have looped back to Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Definitely.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer. “Just breathe with me a little, okay?”

They breathe together, slowly and evenly. At some point, Percy takes her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her palm, tracing her lifelines like a map. His hands are big, and warm, and it seems to calm him down a little, so she doesn’t mind all that much. 

Twilight darkens, stars twinkling against the grey, dusky sky, and still they are holding hands. Eventually, Percy relaxes, slumping against his seat.

“You good?” 

He nods. He still doesn’t let go. “Yeah. Just…” he sighs, stretching his arms up, taking Annabeth’s hand with him. “Not super looking forward to the dressing down I’m going to get.”

She winces. Annabeth’s dad is a little more flexible than Percy’s when it comes to breaches of protocol. The king of Thera is somewhat famous for his paranoia. “I hope it was worth it.”

He whips his head to her, eyes wide. “Of course it was worth it!” he says, as though the opposite were even fathomable. “You kidding? This was the best day of my life.”

“Better than your sixteenth?” His father had officially acknowledged him that day. Annabeth had spotted him in a deserted hallway with his mother, the two of them fighting off a few happy tears. She knows just how special that day was for him. 

“Not even close.” Squeezing her hand, he smiles again, that smile she knows almost better than her own by now. That smile she grew up with, a quiet oasis in a whirlwind of ancient tradition and modern media coverage. That smile is safety, familiarity. That smile was there to greet her when her mother chose to leave her family, when her uncle died without heirs, thrusting the position of heiress on her, whenever she had a rotten day or a bad grade or a lonely night, just on the other end of a phone, or down the hall, or in the kitchen. 

Whatever happens, she knows, Percy will be her best friend. Her anchor. 

Her…

She swallows. “Thank you,” she says again. “I needed this.” A day without an agenda. A day just for them. 

His eyes are dark, and soft, like the water beneath them. One hundred and fifty feet in the air in a broken ferris wheel, there’s nowhere safer she can be. “Me too.”

So she’s not really surprised at herself when she says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Eyes widening, just a hair, he opens his mouth, momentarily speechless. “You--are you sure?”

She nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“Cool. Uh, me too.”

“Cool.”

Neither of them move. 

“So, do--do you want to--”

Annabeth leans in, her other hand cupping his cheek, and kisses him. 

His lips are soft. His mouth tastes like vanilla and bourbon. They are trapped in a metal box, one hundred and fifty feet off the ground, about to get the punishment of their lives when they get down, and it is absolutely, utterly perfect. 

And when Annabeth pulls back, there are fireworks. 

Quite literally.

Percy’s face glows with pink and green and purple, and a little fire in his eyes that’s all him. The pops of the fireworks, loud and brassy, and muted, completely overshadowed by the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

They rest their heads against each other, breathing each other’s air, quiet and intimate, the calm before the storm that is surely coming. But that’s fine. Let it come, she thinks. She’ll be safe with Percy.

When the park technicians eventually get the ferris wheel moving again, Percy and Annabeth disembark from the gondola like nothing’s even gone wrong, waving to the crowd of people, fans, and reporters alike, who have swarmed the pier, phones and cameras held aloft in a constellation of light, before being quickly hurried away by Zoe and her crew, ushered to the end of the pier where Annabeth’s embassy’s car is waiting. 

Percy doesn’t let go of her hand once. 

***

KALYMNOS, GREECE--Prince Percy has arrived on the island for his family’s annual summer retreat, bringing his girlfriend, Princess Annabeth of Sweden, with him for the fifth year in a row, and the third as his official partner. Lifelong friends, the couple were most recently seen at Disneyland Tokyo, continuing something of a tradition for the two royals where they visit Disneyland parks across the globe. Our sources inside the castle are hinting that the family is planning something big this year. Could we see a proposal by the end of summer? Be sure to subscribe for more updates!

[ayamturd]

promises│nihachu

summary: in any given situation or matter, promises are sacred in any relationship one should hold. 

prompt: “Promise you won’t let go?” “I promise.”

warnings: fluff and major angst, death and warfare descriptions, slight dsmp spoilers

pairing: in-game romantic!nihachu

a/n: this is my entry for @quackisinnit’s 1k writing event!! huge congratulatory once again for their achievement and amazing writing (go read their stuff, it’s incredible) <3

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Y/n! Slow down, will you!” 

You giggled to Niki’s panic and only sped through the tall grass faster. The world was a blur as you pulled her through the empty, dry field. Every branch of wheat tickled your face as they grazed your sides, yet you could care less as you both ran with little care in the world. 

“But how will we get there faster then?” You glanced back at her with an assured smirk without breaking your pace. Her eyes, while wide with concern, opposed her careless smile. She chuckled loudly at your words, the beautiful sound of her laugher prompting your own as you began climbing a small hill. 

“Only a little further, come on.” Your hand gripped her own gently, and she only squeezed your palm in response. 

As you reached the high ground, you both paused briefly to gather your breaths before you began pulling her again. “I hope this will be worth all the anticipation. You still haven’t told me what you wanted to show me.” 

The line of trees became more evident as you approached them. Entering the forest cautiously, the overhead branches shielded the bright sunlight, only speckles of light breaking through the leaves as they casted over you. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it.” Niki let out a small whine of your name, jogging slightly to meet your footing. 

The forest became evidently thicker with every stride, the overgrown roots of the trees tripping up Niki’s feet as she couldn’t see as clearly. She began to slow significantly in fear of the unfamiliar environment, the dark trunks, all of various sizes, almost taunting her with the possibility of something jumping out at her. 

While your presence was comforting, she couldn’t hide how naturally scared she was to continue forward. 

Noting her anxiety, you stopped completely to check on her, though her eyes were anywhere but your own; she was surveying the surrounding and the inability to see anything beyond a certain distance.

With a tender touch, you called her name more softly and pulled her face to your own. “We can head back if you’re uncomfortable love, but it’s just past this grove, I swear.” 

Niki relished in your touch and leaned into your hold, the warmth of your palm compelling and inviting against her cheek. She nodded ever so briefly, but you did not want to push her past what she was comfortable with due to your own excitement. 

“Speak with me now, love. I won’t force you if you don’t want to, it’s nothing of greater importance to your feelings.” 

Head still bowed down, Niki opened her eyes while lifting your still clasped hands to her lips. She kissed your knuckles endearingly before raising her head more confidently, your concern for her well being driving her emotionally.

“I’ll be alright, darling, thank you.” You leaned closer to exchange a kiss, a light feathery peck to her plush lips, and rested your forehead against her’s. 

Eyes closed, you merely whispered into her skin, “are you certain? You know I could never fault you if so.” 

Niki pulled away, causing your eyes to open at the lack of contact, and gave you a beautiful grin as reassurance. “I am, y/n, I promise.” 

While you smiled brightly, she paused before turning away, almost embarrassed to ask her next question. “Just… just promise you won’t let go?” 

Your airy chuckle made her head snap up to you, afraid of the connotations it held; however, she instead was met with your brilliant, crinkled eyes. They were intense, full of love and adoration that could make her blush widely from the simple gaze, and spoke more words than you could ever relay. 

Moving your hand to the back of her neck, you slowly bent down to kiss her again. It was more intense than before, the passion you displayed shared as Niki grabbed the wrist you held with while her other hand cupped your cheek securely. 

Eventually, you needed air and forced your lips off her hesitantly. Heavy breaths pervaded the forest landscape, and you both panted from the impenetrable emotions you carried. You held a lopsided grin from the kiss, the tired pull of your lips matching her own. 

“I promise, darling. I’ll always have you.”

“Y/n!” 

The sky was dark, fire raging from below and engulfing the space completely. Destruction rained down in the aftermath of the battle, ash and debris scattered everywhere. The smoke was blinding, the stinging film it produced bringing tears to the eyes of all while tainting the air, making it hard to breath or move within the encapsulated scenery. 

It was ringing. The silence was almost deafening after the deathly explosions and sounds that imploded moments before. One could barely hear themself think from the loud buzz or harsh stillness, the contrast more painful to the noise when originally casted in face of what was left to scrape and reforge. 

“Y/n, hold on!” 

Those injured or lost were left casted amongst the destruction of the once beautiful, vast land. Nothing could be said to the devastation that laid waste around them, yet the heartache most suffered was excruciating to the failure of a promise their home once carried. 

While some had fled or currently carried themselves strong against the opposing, ‘god-like’ force that demanded for blood, two loves were still fighting for the purpose of staying together. 

“Y/n! I have you, I have you, ju一 just hang on!” 

Niki’s face was stained with dirt and grime, yet it did nothing to hide the pain she held in her eyes. She was crying, the smoke in her eyes, while harsh and searing, incomparable to the agony she felt while holding you. 

“Niki, I’m so scared.” 

You were hanging over a massive crater, your feet danglingly helplessly in the open air as the wind pulled at your weight. Niki gripped your arm with her entire being, the wounds she had meaning nothing to the turmoil of emotions that raged at the sight of seeing you scared beyond admission. 

Her expression was determined, despite the tear stains that marked her face so vastly to the filth that stained her cheeks. She grunted, loosing her footing momentarily before pulling you slightly up again. In spite of all her efforts, she was too weak and exhausted from the fighting beforehand, body unable to carry the same passion she emulated in thought. 

“Niki.” Her eyes were tight from her current endeavor, and she shook her head at your voice. 

“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, we’re going to be okay.” Her hands were shaking from your weight, yet she refused to break her grip.

“Niki, please look at me.” Blinking roughly to rid the salty tears, Niki let out a sob from meeting your own tears as well. You were in immense pain, and the fear that overtook was numbing to the point that you couldn’t put up a front any longer. 

“I love you, Niki. I love you so much.” With a shake of her head, more tears ran down her face from the revelation. She pulled harder on your arm. 

“Don’t do that, don’t say it like that.” You tried to smile and bring her comfort from the situation, but in truth you were too drained; the smile you tried for was only an empty shell to the joy it once held. 

“Niki, it’s alright, its o一”

Suddenly, more explosions shattered the still landscape once more. The war was not over and the crack of the already broken terrain collapse further beneath itself. 

Dust clouded your vision and the panic was overwhelming, causing you to speak without thought relative to the reality you both faced.

“Niki, don’t let go, please, promise you won’t let go!” Your words were rushed and incomprehensible. Eyes wild in terror and dread, the cries that escaped you were strained and smothered over the erupting ground around you. 

Niki yelled as loud as she could against the explosions trapping you both, anguished by the matter of fact. “Yes! Yes, Y/n! I have you, I pro一“

Before the vow in vain could be voiced, a new rain of explosions were set barely a few feet behind Niki, and the earth shook violently from impact. She yelped from the unexpected attack and lost her concentration and stability, thrown back, hard, into a sunken ditch. 

Explosion after explosion followed, and she was forced to hold her head in instinct until the silence rang out once more. With a gasp, she struggled to her feet and pathetically climbed her way over the small hill, the littered waste and scrap metal tripping her in her moment of desperation. 

She fell against the edge of the hollow shaft, a look of shock in disbelief before the horror sunk in. “No…”

“No, no, no no no…” She began to mumble to herself until her words became louder. Sinking to her knees at the realization, she released a broken and cracked cry. While sound was muffled to the damage within her ears and her sight was obscured by her teary eyes, the pain and heartbreak she felt was everything and the only thing she recognized then and there.

She cried and she cried, and no matter how much it hurt, she could never stop from the pain that would consume her without her new found sorrow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Slowly, she laid her head against the ground and clenched her eyes shut, gripping her fists close into herself for she no longer had someone to hold her safe. 

“I’m so sorry.”

[sooibian]

So Let's Runaway - Prologue

photocreds @tuanzie​

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre / Themes: Fluff, mild angst, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo!

Warnings: Themes of grief / loss, heartache, toxic relationships, strong language, i guess..

Description: An unlikely group of three comes together for the journey of a lifetime.

A/N: This fic is part of @supermwritersnet​ “Around the world in 31 days event”. Inspired by the Hindi movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Uploading prematurely so as to stop obsessing over the prologue and get cracking on the travelogue which requires a tonne of research. Let me know if you’d like a tag on the upcoming chapter(s) due for upload on 19th July 2021.

Word Count: 3k *unedited*

____________________________

Doh Kyungsoo had dragged his feet up the endless flight of stairs seeking solitude...not drama.

A stranger, just one misstep away from a fatal fall, was the last thing he’d expected to find on the rooftop of Seoul’s Park Hyatt at three in the morning. He slipped the rooftop access key card (that he’d borrowed from the security guard in exchange for a 50,000 won bill) in the back pocket of his trousers while simultaneously dwelling on the depths of the rot of corruption. He had half a mind to turn away and forget that he’d just seen someone contemplating their existence on the ledge of a highrise but there was something about you that rooted him to the spot. Dressed in fine evening wear, you’d stretched your arms out like wings as you looked up at the vast expanse of midnight blue, the wind kissing your wild, waist length hair. From his standpoint, you looked oddly at peace.

Kyungsoo had never been an idealist or a victim of the white knight syndrome. He wasn’t one to delve into the ethical and philosophical conundrums for most things in life because to him it was all just a waste of time. Seeing you on the parapet filled him with neither sympathy nor worry. It was your life after all and with it you could do whatever you deemed fit as long as you weren’t inconveniencing others. Scratch that.

As long as you weren’t inconveniencing him.

But right now, unbeknownst to you, you were inconveniencing Seoul’s hottest financial broker, Doh Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t invisible to the hotel’s security cameras and being labelled suspect in an abetment to suicide investigation wasn't exactly what he was looking for after the day he’d had. Albeit inebriated and heavy-eyed, he could effectively calculate the logistics involved in pulling you off the ledge with the cacophony of the omnipresent Seoul traffic drowning out the sound of his footsteps.

Bracing himself for superficial bruises from the impact of falling to the right side of the precipice with the weight of an adult human pressing down on his 173 cm high frame, he took off his custom tailored blazer (that had been flown in from Vietnam especially for that evening) and folded it in half, making sure that the lapels touched. Some habits are hard to shake. He put the blazer on the ground as a makeshift floorcloth for the rest of his belongings. With his back facing you, he allowed himself a moment's peace as he loosened his tie, languidly rolled the sleeves of his pristine white dress shirt up to his elbows, freed himself off the Rolex Cellini on his left wrist, his Bottega Veneta fine leather wallet, and the cursed Tiffany Blue Box that he simply couldn’t bear to look at anymore and neatly placed them all on the blazer.

Letting out a deep exhale, he muttered curses under his breath before turning to your silhouette only to find it...gone.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and then immediately grew into large circles as he grappled with the shocking turn of events. An inexplicable heaviness bloomed in his chest and he felt sick to the stomach which, in a state of denial, he chalked up to the dubious mixture of spirits he’d downed not too long ago.

Before he could find his bearings and figure out what to do next, a light tap on his shoulder made him jump. His jaw went slack and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest to find you casually smiling at him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb onto the very same ledge and scream into the void but he simply stood there, mouth agape, wanting to say a million things but he could hardly muster a peep.

Reading the confusion painted across his sharp, well defined features, you uttered an unsure, “Hi?”

“I thought you’d jumped,” he whispered, head tilted to the side, his compelling, bloodshot eyes locked with yours.

“Says someone who’s unusually jumpy,” you jested, but your expression immediately turned solemn when you caught the tremble in his right hand. “Are you on something?”

There came about a sudden shift in his aura. Hands on hips, he deadpanned, “Why? Are you with the cops?”

“No, don’t worry,” you let out a soft chuckle and he started scrambling for his things, “How long have you been standing here?”

Hastily stuffing everything into the pocket of his well fitted trousers, he muttered something along the lines of ‘Chaos. Just chaos everywhere!’

Leaning into his frame, you quipped, “What’s that?”

Alarmed and goggle-eyed, he snapped, “Nevermind,” and turned towards the exit.

“Hey! You seem to have forgotten something!” You called out after him upon finding his blazer on the ground, the silken sheen of it reflecting a myriad of citylights.

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to jump!” You yodelled childishly but the man was long gone.

.

.

.

Seven Hours Earlier

“Natasha -” Kyungsoo huffed.

The feather light Tiffany 1873 Blue Box in his left hand had suddenly started to feel like a giant boulder weighing down on his entire being. The sparkle of the uncut diamond reflected in his misty eyes as her uncharacteristically stoic silence left him struggling for words. He searched Natasha’s face for a hint of mischief...he so desperately wished for her to crack a sly smile and pull him in for a kiss and whisper ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’ against his lips like they do in the movies, that he’d almost started to imagine it. It had to have been some sort of an ugly prank.

What reason does she have to turn me down? he wondered.

Kyungsoo breached the uncomfortable spell of silence with a desperate plea, “Say something!” the throbbing in his head intensifying by the second.

Did these three years mean nothing to you? What did I do wrong? Do you hate the ring? Is this not the kind of proposal you wished for? Is it because I left the bathroom lights on all night? Or is it because I forgot to wish your mother on her birthday? A flurry of questions spawned in Kyungsoo’s mind only to die at the tip of his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, but I can’t do this. I just -” Natasha spoke finally. Gingerly shifting the weight of the box onto the ebony restaurant table, she slammed it shut as if the ring had been eyeing her lecherously.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze almost defiantly, she declared, “Kyungsoo, I don’t think that I could be the kind of wife that would make you happy and I don’t think you could make me happy either.”

.

.

.

Two Weeks Later

Setting your eyes on that distinct pair of Dumbo ears, you excitedly weaved through the peak hour coffee shop crowd with an Iced Americano held firmly in one hand. Slamming the beverage down on the table, you engulfed his giant frame in a back hug and squealed, “Park Chanyeol!”

His wide eyes turned into even bigger brown circles and his mouth rounded into an ‘o’ in surprise. Grinning, he got off the uncomfortably tiny coffee shop chair and wordlessly pulled you in for what was famously known in Uni as a ‘Classic Chanyeol Hug’. You didn’t know how much you missed it until you felt your worries immediately dissipate into nothingness.

He hugged you a little tighter the moment you started to pull away before taking your hands in his and stooping down to your eye level. “Shifu, my love! You’re back in Seoul?!” Chanyeol exclaimed with all the love in the world sparking in the depths of his dark eyes.

Even after all this time, it felt as if nothing had changed….you’d suddenly been whizzed into a not-so-distant ‘Gothic architecture and coffee shops’ past in which a cotton candy haired boy, dressed in a pair of freshly ironed beige chinos and a plain white tee, smiles his sweetest smile simply at the sight of you. Chanyeol always felt like home. Funnily enough, even more so at the moment.

Giving him a good natured smile, you nodded in response, albeit cringing a little on the inside. Having been President of the martial arts club back in the days, you got stuck with an ingenious moniker “Shifu” which you clearly couldn’t shake off even after half a decade since graduation. You did a double take when your gaze veered to acknowledge the person seated opposite Chanyeol who, dressed in an ivory business suit, almost blended into the background. Just the way you could spot Chanyeol’s ears from a million miles away, you could recognize those eyes anywhere and right now they were shooting daggers at you.

“OH! Hi!”

His response to your greeting was a curt nod accompanying a vague hand movement, something between a hi and a failed facepalm.

At this Chanyeol guffawed, “You two know each other?”, his keen gaze rapidly flitting between the two of you.

“Yes -”

“No -”

While gesturing you to take a seat at their table, Chanyeol slumped into his chair and pursued the conversation in a voice laced with amusement, “So which is it?”

You gave your head a little shake, signalling Chanyeol to drop the topic since his friend had made his apprehension quite evident with an unambiguous “No” when asked if he knew you. Which...wasn’t entirely untrue. Even though Chanyeol now seemed to be on the same page as you, for good measure, you deflected his question with a polite, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Absolutely not!” Chanyeol assured, deftly steering the conversation back to you, “We could actually use your advice on something but first, Shifu, look at you! How long has it been? Five years?”

“Five years!”

“Wahhh! What brings you back to Seoul?”

With a wistful smile, you answered, “Appa passed away in April...”

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry -” stuttered Chanyeol, immediately placing his hand on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. From the corner of your eye you noticed Chanyeol’s friend chewing on his bottom lip and listening to this exchange with rapt attention.

“No, no, it’s erm...we’re doing okay now, I guess-”

It had been two and a half months but every time you talked about it, a black hole burgeoned right in the middle of your chest, sucking you within itself and rendering you breathless. You still hadn’t picked up the art of condoling the “condoler”. What were you even supposed to say to the faultless “I’m sorry”? Who came up with condolence jargon, anyway?

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch - ”

“Oh, please. You know how it is after Uni, isn’t it,” you turned to Chanyeol’s friend to make him feel a little less left out, “what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he answered in a clipped tone while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Yah!” Chanyeol chastised him with a deathly glare before continuing with an impish smile, “He’s Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah! So he’s Doh Kyungsoo! I’ve heard a great deal about you!” Your enthusiasm invoked a quick cursory smile from him. Doh Kyungsoo had apparently made it his life’s mission to make this unexpected rendezvous as icky as possible, leaving you to wonder if Chanyeol had ever discussed your brief relationship with him. Ex-girlfriend meets best friend? Not an ideal scenario in any part of the world.

Chanyeol and you had gone out for a couple of weeks towards the end of freshman year until you both realized that you were much better off as friends. Despite being joined at the hip in Uni, the two of you had gone your separate ways after post-grad. While he returned to Seoul to join the family business, you’d stayed back in Milan to explore job opportunities. Messages and phone calls became few and far between and it wasn’t long before both of you had completely lost touch with each other.

And it wasn’t until you met him again that you realized how desperately you needed a friend considering everything that had been going on in your life. You selfishly wished for Kyungsoo to leave you two to catch up on all these years spent apart but clearly that was a lot to ask considering how tacitly territorial he seemed to be getting about Chanyeol.

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked in another feeble attempt to water down the rancour.

Chanyeol’s features flared into a bashful smile but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Kyungsoo held a hand up to him and insisted, “Allow me to spare you the blushes,” before starting to explain the situation in an uncharacteristically eager tone, “This idiot is getting married in three months -”

Boisterously thumping Chanyeol’s back, you showered him with congratulations which he accepted with a shy ‘thank you.’

Kyungsoo continued, “- and we have a road trip planned for next month. As per the pact -”

Head tilted to the side, you shot, “What pact?”

“Some stupid pact that I have no memory of - ”

“That you conveniently have no memory of!” interrupted a salty Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Rubbing the corner of his eye, he continued with a heavy sigh, “It was supposed to be the three of us...Chanyeol, me, and our school friend Yixing.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So Yixing fell off a tractor and broke his back -”

“Oh, my gosh!” You exclaimed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t there but I’d bet my ass that’s exactly what he said at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait, wait, slow down, why- how- a tractor?”

“He quit his CEO position to become a full time….farmer,” deadpanned Kyungsoo as if it was the stupidest thing Yixing could’ve done which rubbed you up the wrong way and coloured your otherwise neutral expression.

“He basically did what Kyungsoo doesn’t have the balls to do,” quipped Chanyeol, lips stretched into a gremlin-like grin. Kyungsoo returned his jibe with a strike to his arm causing him to let out a dramatic wail thus inviting the attention of everyone around you.

But none of it deterred Kyungsoo. He continued nonchalantly as if presenting a well crafted business proposal, “Since one of us is unavailable it only makes sense to postpone the trip and that’s exactly what I’ve been asking Chanyeol to do but he just won’t listen.”

“You’re getting married in three months and you’re taking this road trip next month. Will you be left with enough time for wedding planning?” you reasoned with Chanyeol, well aware of the kind of family he belonged to and the kind of weddings these families planned.

“Mr. Park here was way too eager,” Kyungsoo butted in.

“Shut up, Kyungsoo!”

“Wahhh you must really love her ~ ,” you sang, moon-eyed.

“Clearly. He couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to finish singing the birthday song for his Eomma.”

“What?”

“Yeah! He popped the question to Aera right in the middle of it.”

“WHAT!”

“That’s a story for another day,” replied Chanyeol in an atypically calm tone, “but you’re right, Shifu, it’s not enough time and that’s why I’ve been asking this idiot to just -”

“All reservations are for three. It logistically makes more sense to reschedule,” declared Kyungsoo with a hint of finality in his tone.

It didn’t. It definitely didn’t make more sense to reschedule but as gullible as Chanyeol was, he said nothing to counter Kyungsoo’s illogical argument.

“Are you sure your friend Yixing would be okay with it, Yeollie? I’m sure you can wait for him to get better and -”

Firmly setting his jaw, Chanyeol looked you square in the eyes and stated, “It's now or never.”

Kyungsoo stole a glance at you and cleared his throat, hesitance betraying his voice when he spoke again, “Chanyeollah, you’re only getting married stop talking like you’re terminally ill.”

Chanyeol's expression softened to convey an implicit plea causing you to tweak your suggestion, “The two of you can still go? I’m sure Yixing won’t mind.”

But Chanyeol hit you with an unexpected proposal. He asked, “Do you want to come?”, in a tone that was way too serious for a road trip.

“What? No!”

“Why not? You’re here and - “

“- and Yixing’s not,” interrupted Kyungsoo.

Ignoring the sarcasm in Kyungsoo’s voice, you turned Chanyeol down gently, “No, Yeol, it’s just- it doesn’t make sense, bub.”

“Why not? We leave in a month and that’s plenty of time to get all your travel docs in order -”

“Travel docs? You mean….insurance?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! Insurance...you won’t need a visa, though.”

“Visa? Yeah, obviously I won’t be needing a visa. Why would I need a visa for a road trip?”

Chanyeol slapped his forehead and wondered aloud, “Oh, shoot! We didn’t tell her, did we?”

Kyungsoo gave his head a little shake, prompting you to ask, “Tell me what?”

“It’s a road trip through uhhh northeastern Spain -”

Chanyeol’s elaborate account of the itinerary was drowned in the whirlpool of emotions that erupted within you at the mention of the country. That part of your life you had locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of your consciousness now stared you straight in the eyes, forcing you to acknowledge a reality far too jarring for your fragile state of mind. You took a sip of your long forgotten beverage to centre yourself but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was up.

Placing a hand on your head, he asked softly, “What is it, Shifu? I understand if you can’t leave Eomma alone at this point...”

“It’s not Eomma,” you took another sip of the drink to fight the lump in your throat, “Eomma is - Eomma is in Bucheon, visiting her sister. For I don’t know how long but...long.”

“Is it work?” contributed Kyungsoo.

“I quit my job,” you answered and he looked at you as if you, a total stranger, had just asked him his body count.

Chanyeol took your hand in his and reiterated, “Come, then? You need this.”

Your gaze bounced between the two men who wore the exact same expression in expectation of two entirely different answers. And whatever you chose to say next, you were sure to disappoint one of them.

Eyes unfocussed, a deafening ringing echoing in your ears, you declared softly, “I need this,” with a million unpleasant scenarios running through your head, making you sick to the stomach.

Chanyeol pulled you in for a bear hug. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.

[mooniefics]

in the grand scheme of things [ 3 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 5.5k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warning : descriptions of alcohol and drug use

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 28 / 21 on ao3 —

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sasha  3:47 pm hey u down to party tonight?? jean told connie he could get us into another one of the azo parties again

you sighed at the sight of the notifications on your phone from its place on the passenger's seat, pensively drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. the most recent party of the most popular fraternity chapter on your campus you'd attended had been the last party you'd subjected yourself to attending—the halloween party where you'd gotten ditched out and subsequently cheated on. though you could admit that it had been fun in the moment, especially when you had caught the struggle between sasha and historia when she saw your roommate snap a picture of her kissing the standoffish sophomore that always helped her with her english lit homework, ymir, rather than the fraternity guy she was meant to be with.

the memory of that night, at least the time before you'd realized your boyfriend and his annoyingly attractive best friend were nowhere to be found, made you consider. classes did start back up next week, and the most eventful thing you'd done over the break was your quaint little family get-together for new year's eve—and your two rendezvous with zeke, meetings that you were slowly beginning to feel more and more skeptical about as time went on—and you were sure that your second semester would drown you in work just as much—if not more—than you'd had in your first semester. so as soon as you came to a stop at a red light, you picked your phone up to shoot her back a message, laughing to yourself when she replied instantly.

               you  3:51 pm party on a wednesday?                            really?

sasha   3:51 pm come onnnn please??? i heard nikos gonna be there! ur rlly gonna make me go all alone??

so that was why she wanted to go, to see the foreign culinary major that somehow always managed to send her back to the dorm with a large plate of food and a blinding smile plastered on her face for at least the next hour. you were honestly surprised that they hadn't gotten together yet, considering how many common interests they'd shared.

a pleasant thought suddenly popped into your head, the thought that she was probably asking you because mikasa had already declined, meaning that she wouldn't be in attendance. armin was out in turkey with eren, ensuring his absence. that fact made you feel a bit less anxious about accepting sasha's invitation. you could catch up with the friends you'd been unable to see while you were off-campus—or too swamped with work to be able to reach out to—let loose one last time before you were trapped back in the monotonous cycle of working, sleeping, crying, and eating for the next couple months until spring break. your mind had been made up.

                          you  3:52 pm    fine. i'll go as moral support. but no promises u won't have  to babysit after you've had ur                          fun with nikolo  this break has been rough for                                       me lol

sasha  3:53 pm oh god my i loveyou so much already picking out our outfits

you chuckled to yourself, slipping your phone into the cupholder as the brake lights of the car in front of you flashed off and you eased your foot onto the gas. you made it back to the dorm relatively quickly, sasha more than elated to see you even though you didn't have any food to bring back for her. and just as her text message had read, she'd already laid out one of your nicer dresses and a set of heels that didn't absolutely kill your feet by the end of the night by your bed, digging through the closet with a pile of discarded clothes growing on the floor.

"thanks sash," you giggled, "but don't you think it's a little to be getting ready? what time's the party?"

"connie told me seven-thirty, but jean said for us to come an hour later so we aren't the only ones there." she spoke over her shoulder, huffing as she tossed another piece of clothing aside, "but i wanna look good! i'm gonna hop in the shower as soon as i find the right thing to wear."

holding out your dress before you, you frowned. it was simple, black and made of a sheer, clingy material with lace accents decorating the low neckline, thin straps that bared the entirety of your shoulders and a modest amount of cleavage. it was one of your favorites, but the half-healed bruises scattered across the skin that would be exposed by it wasn't ideal.

"oh, don't forget to take a cheap coat that you don't mind forgetting. it's kinda chilly out, and i always end up losing track of mine during the night."

you let out a breath of relief, remembering that covering up a bit more would be weather appropriate. "yeah, i'll wear a long-sleeved undershirt and something light on top." perfect.

you waited until sasha had gathered her toiletries and scurried off to the nearest bathroom to change clothes, feeling your face heat up at the thought of zeke, the initial deep pigmentation having faded out over the last two days but still a very visible shade of faint red. you were fully dressed upon your roommate's return, earning an excited slew of compliments from her as she wrapped up her hair in a towel and settled down beside you to get started on her makeup.

you were actually grateful for how early she'd insisted on getting ready considering how long she'd agonized over her eyeliner, or how many times she'd applied and removed her lashes, complaining that "something was off" or "it just didn't look right". your suggested time of arrival came in no time at all, and by then sasha was more than eager to start rushing you despite the pace she'd been moving at earlier.

"hurry!! if niko brings food, i don't wanna get there by the time it's all gone!" she whined, jiggling the doorknob to your room impatiently, "for the thanksgiving party, he brought a charcuterie board with all these nice cheeses on it and it was so good, he looked so happy watching me eat it, it was so cute!"

you chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, shoving the last of your things into your clutch, zipping up your phone in the small inner pocket to insure that you didn't drop it and forget on the floor of someone's house this time. "i'm sure that even if we got there late, he'd set aside plenty of food for you."

the walk to the fraternity's designated house was made much shorter by sasha's insistence, practically dragging you along by the wrist the whole way at a near jog. you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, knowing that you would have sasha, connie, and jean at the very least, but unaware as to what you would really do besides mill around. at the halloween party, you'd been able to play the variety of drinking games that had been set out for the guests with eren and his friends, but now you weren't entirely sure who to stick to for the majority of the night.

you didn't want to bother jean or connie after they'd gotten secured you an invite, and you were sure that sasha was expecting to be able to spend some time alone with the guy she'd came to see in the first place, meaning you'd have to spend a majority of the night alone, or the unfavorable option of mingling with unfamiliar people. but you realized that was a pill you'd have to swallow as you approached the steps of the house, nearly tripping up over your feet from the speed that sasha was hauling you along at, watching her furiously knock at the door.

there were people wandering about in the yard, some on their phones, most likely waiting for their own friends to arrive, and a smoky stench of something that definitely wasn't just tobacco wafting from the group of men camped out on the porch murmuring amongst each other. you could hear the volume of the music inside the house, almost able to feel it thrumming across the floor if you focused enough.

"thomas!" she exclaimed at the sight of a younger-looking blonde boy when the door opened, whose existence you honestly had no idea about until just now, grinning so broadly it made your own cheeks hurt for her, "jean invited us!"

"oh, come right in." he beamed right back, calling loudly over his shoulder, "yo, jean, your friends are here!"

the inside of the house looked just as you expected, already crowded to max capacity, jean having to maneuver past the throng of people gathered near the front to approach the two of you. "damn, i feel like i haven't seen you in forever." he did his best to speak over the music, wrapping you up in a friendly squeeze, "glad to see you could finally make it." he turned to sasha. "niko's already in the kitchen, by the way. asked when you were coming just a few minutes ago."

sasha's face lit up with glee, turning to you, silently asking for permission to go off on her own as if you could ever deny her and her overly-eager expression. "go get 'em, tiger." you smiled, giving her a few pats on her shoulder to send her off on her way, watching her disappear into the crowd in record time.

but before apprehension of her absence could set in, you felt jean's arm sling around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "c'mon, you didn't think i was gonna ditch out and let you hang alone all night?" you giggled, turning your head up to look at him properly for the first time.

you'd first met jean in your statistics class, an unfortunate requirement for your major of choice, and initially bonded over your mutual connection through sasha. they'd been good friends in high school, and you'd just moved into a room for at least the next year with her, so you figured it'd do you well to have someone who could get you in her good graces in the event that you two didn't get along. but, thankfully, you two were just fine on your own, and sasha and jean became your first friends outside of the small group you and eren shared.

the only real conflict of interest between the two of you seemed to be your aforementioned boyfriend, and you couldn't really be upset at him for that. eren could be difficult to get along with even at the best of times, he wasn't a terrible person—at least before he'd cheated—but he wasn't exactly the most friendly either.

"is this piercing new?" you asked, reaching up to brush your thumb over the small earring hugging the shell of jean's ear.

"yeah, got it for new year's. pretty hot, right?" you snorted, earning a grin from him, "by the way, if you need to use the bathroom just tell me, the one on the main floor is fucking filthy. and also probably has no toilet paper."

"will do." you could feel the tension ebbing away in his company, at least when you ignored the annoyed glances other girls were sending your way when they noticed his arm around you, "so, what's on the menu for tonight?"

"well, we probably have every kind of alcohol known to man," he said, leaning down to speak into your ear as he began to guide you through the crowded first floor, "beer kegs are out back, junk food and all the inexpensive shit is in the kitchen." he stopped at the opening to a hallway, smile evident in his voice. "but i'm feeling pretty generous tonight, so if you want some of the good stuff we have stashed, just say the word."

"wow, such a gentleman. do you say that to every girl that comes in?" you playfully replied, thankfully far enough away from the music now that you didn't have to talk at nearly a shout.

"only the ones i like." he added a terribly over-exaggerated wink, earning another small laugh from you, "so, what'll it be? vodka, tequila, or triple sec?"

you blinked up at him. "that's it? when you said 'good stuff', i imagined a little more variety."

"beggars can't be choosers, sweetheart. and anyways we're a frat, not a restaurant, so either take your pick or go enjoy some cheap wine while you watch nikolo and sasha drool over each other."

you rolled your eyes, feigning anger in the face of his attitude, huffing out your answer. "surprise me then, frat boy."

"good answer." he said with a grin, "wait here."

he disappeared down the hall, leaving you to stare in silence at the wall before you and listen to the barely muffled sounds of the party going on just a few meters away. you opened up your clutch to fish out your phone, opening it to find your text conversation still open, catching a glimpse of connie's name. you felt a little guilty that you'd almost forgotten about his expected presence, seeing as he had messaged you and you hadn't heard anything from sasha or jean yet. you decided to shoot him a quick text letting him know that you and sasha had arrived, not surprised when he didn't respond as quickly as he usually did, knowing that he was already wrapped up in getting high out of his mind somewhere here or doing so elsewhere.

you opted to kill time tapping through your feed, making it a point to quickly scroll past any posts with armin's handle attached to them. the thought of eren having fun halfway across the world was both pleasant and disheartening at the same time. you felt stupid for still clinging on to the second thoughts about ending things the second he got back. sure, all the dots connected suspiciously well to create a picture that led to the clear conclusion of cheating, but eren wasn't good at hiding things. you remembered the time in your junior year when he'd barely been able to keep your surprise party that your friends had organized you a secret before one of them slipped up about it and exonerated him from blame, and you couldn't help but ask yourself if he was really capable of hiding such a terrible deed when he couldn't even conceal the harmless types of secrets from you.

the more confrontational part of you said that that was ages ago, that both you and him had changed so much since your time in high school, and maybe one of those changes was what made him put so much distance between the two of you these last months rather than hang around you and risk airing out his dirty laundry. you knew you should be angry with him, you would be more than right to be angry with him, but you force yourself to stop clinging to the simpler times, the days when he'd look at you like you'd put the stars in the sky and said all he ever wanted to do was be around you. you couldn't believe how much had changed in so little time.

"ta-da!" jean's voice interrupted your self-pity, a tall plastic cup suddenly occupying your vision, "long island iced tea for the lady. with a straw."

"christ, jean, are you trying to kill me?" you guffawed, taking the cup from him anyways, "my first real party in months and this is what you start me off with?"

"at least give it a try! after i took all that time to make it for you.." he furrowed his brows at you, only relaxing after you took a tentative sip. it was surprisingly not as strong as you thought it would be, a little on the sweeter side, but it served as a good distraction for the burn of five different alcohols sliding down your throat. "pretty good, isn't it?"

"meh. five out of ten." you snarked, giggling around the straw between your lips.

"typical," he lamented, clutching his hands over his heart, "all you and sasha ever do is use me."

"don't lie to yourself, jean. you love us."

you didn't know if it was the dim lighting casting a shadow over his face, but you could swear that you saw his cheeks flush at your assertion. "anyways.. speaking of love, you still dating that asshole? eric?"

"eren." you corrected, laughing at the error, "and, well, it's complicated."

"complicated? then i'm assuming he fucked up big time, considering he's not even here with you this time around."

you took a long sip of your drink, fiddling with the bendy part of your straw, the thought of his infidelity weighing heavily on your heart. "well he'd probably be here if he wasn't out of town, he's been planning to take his trip for a while now.."

jean shot you a displeased look. "i seriously don't know how you put up with that guy, you're selling yourself short honestly. planning on breaking up with him anytime soon?"

you cast your gaze to the floor, thankful that the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach was helping to ease the cool hollowness settling deep into your chest. "oh hush. you don't even know the whole story, jean."

"well i know enough. if you're in the market for any new guys, i'll scout out someone nice for you." you scoffed at his offer, but didn't outright deny it either, unable to help smiling along with him when he smirked and nodded over to the party in the other room, "now, come play me in beer pong, then you'll really have something to complain about."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke could confidently say that his night had been utterly unremarkable.

another quiet day spent working at the library, where he'd actually glanced at the door more times than he was willing to admit with the hope that it would be you walking in. he'd actually been quite tempted to message you, to ask what you were doing, if you had anywhere between two and three so that maybe he could see you, but he'd ultimately decided against it. he couldn't quite figure out the exact cause of his newly-found infatuation with you, but the rationality of it didn't concern him as much as it probably should've, he was simply pleased to relive the very recent memories of your encounters together and anticipate your next meeting—at least until his younger brother returned.

eren had attempted to goad a reaction out of him with an assortment of unsavory texts calling him just about every name in the book, a constant stream of questions asking why he did it, or what he'd done to deserve such a thing, and even a few desperate pleas begging him to say that it wasn't really you. of course, he'd ignored all of them, and he wondered if eren was trying to contact you as well, knowing that you wouldn't be able to see the messages even if that was the case, though still curious nonetheless.

but for the moment, he was lounging at his usual downtown bar, seated in a booth beside reiner and across from porco at their rescheduled night out, since both marcel and porco were unable to make it yesterday, the latter sulking after his noisy attempt to flag down the waitress ended in failure.

"is marcel actually gonna make it tonight?" reiner asked, plucking a stick of celery from the appetizer platter in the middle of the table.

"no clue." porco replied, sipping his mojito, "said he got caught up at work again, so either the let down text is gonna come any minute now, or he's gonna show up for an hour and then disappear."

zeke chuckled. "post-marriage life sure is tough, i guess."

"you can say that again. he's always calling me, freaking about the idea of kids and his mortgage and stuff that i didn't even think about until he complained about it, scary shit."

"you say that like you're not two years away from being his age."

porco began what was sure to be one of his smart-ass replies, but the waitress had finally approached their booth, hiding her annoyance with his friend with a forced smile as she took the orders for their entrées. zeke pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans when he felt it buzz, feeling the slightest hint of disappointment by the fact that it wasn't you.

"who is it? your new girlfriend?" reiner grumbled, smirking when porco shot up in his seat.

"girlfriend?!" he exclaimed far too loudly.

"yup. zeke didn't tell you he's dating a high-schooler?"

so much for "your business", zeke thought to himself. "oh, fuck off. she's in college." he frowned at his roommate, only met with another tired expression of disappointment.

"just barely." reiner turned back to the man across the table, "it's one of his brother's ex-girlfriends too."

porco stared at him incredulously, eyes wide and judgmental, falling back against the cushion of the seat with a low whistle. "shit zeke.. that's kinda fucked up, don't you think?" he seemed uncomfortable by the unexpected revelation, "you're almost thirty and you're screwing around with someone who's probably not even twenty? is this an afraid-of-getting-old thing? mid-life crisis??"

"she's an adult, she can make her own choices." zeke didn't appreciate the sudden scrutiny, finishing off his old fashioned in the hopes that the bourbon would wash away the self-conscious feeling settling unpleasantly in his gut, "not my fault that her choice happens to be wanting to be around me rather than the guys her age."

"what ever happened to you and pieck? she's hot—"

"and actually over the legal drinking age."

both porco and zeke pointedly ignored reiner's interaction as the former continued. "—i thought it was working out between you two.. what happened?"

zeke shrugged. "just wasn't the right fit for me. but you liked her, didn't you? before we had our thing." he looked up at his friend, forcing a casual grin, "maybe you could give that shot now."

he felt a bit more at ease seeing porco's ears and cheeks flush red, now fiddling with the lime garnish on the rim of his glass. "we still talk here and there.. i don't really know much about what she's up to these days."

before he could answer with more words of encouragement that detracted from the previous, morally-incriminating topic, his phone began to vibrate, and he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of your name on the screen. "sorry, gotta take this."

he tugged on his jacket and slid out of the booth, ignoring reiner's chastising glance and porco's bewildered look, passing the waitress who was now carrying a platter with their food and refills on his way out. the cool night breeze was refreshing in comparison to the awkward, almost cramped atmosphere that had developed over their discussion, his breath coming is foggy puffs in the chilled, january air as he pressed the answer button. immediately upon raising the phone to his ear, he was met with a blurred assortment of background noise, able to discern the muffled sound of music and the sound of footsteps outside of whatever room you were in.

"hello?"

"oh, zeke, you answered!!" he could hear in your voice that you were clearly intoxicated, much more than you had been when you were at his house, words stringing together and ending syllables unnecessarily drawn out.

he felt uncharacteristically worried at the realization that you were at a party, one that sounded quite large and crowded, most likely crawling with unsavory individuals that he knew prowled around those sorts of events when he himself was in college. "are you alright? where are you right now? do you need me to pick you up?"

zeke was already digging around in his coat pocket to check if he had his keys, more than prepared to take off without his meal or saying goodbye to his friends inside. "'m at a party on campus, 's okay. in the bathroom. just thinking."

zeke didn't feel eased at all at the sound of loud knocking coming from somewhere, hearing you becoming distant for a moment as you presumably pulled the phone away from your ear to call out that the bathroom was occupied. there was shuffling on the other line, then silence for a short moment. "can i ask you something?"

zeke frowned. the idea of not being able to know who was monitoring you in this state wasn't sitting well with him. "go ahead."

"but don't call me stupid, ok? i already know it's a stupid question, but i still wanna ask it."

"there's no such thing as stupid questions." he assured you, ignoring the buzz of a text notification, most likely porco or reiner telling him to come back in before the burger he ordered got cold.

"do i really have to break up with eren?"

zeke felt something odd flicker in his chest, that unfamiliar feeling he'd felt when he caught you staring at you and his brother's one-sided chat logs, but yet the affirmative answer he thought he would be able to give with no problem sat on the tip of his tongue, undelivered. he thought back to that face reiner had made when he told him who you were, and porco's hesitant words trying to rationalize his actions but ultimately failing to do so.

zeke didn't understand why he felt so conflicted all of a sudden. this was meant to be a simple ordeal, one where he got what he needed to teach eren a lesson and moved on with his life. but now here he was, concerned about your whereabouts, focusing hard enough on your muddled words that he managed to catch the wobble in your voice that betrayed your own state of emotional unrest. he realized a moment too late that he hadn't said anything, hearing a small sniffle on your end before we began speaking.

"god, i can't believe i said that out loud, you must really think i'm dumb r'now, but.. i just can't let go of what we had." he was sure that you were crying now. "i keep thinking about what you said, an' you're right. he's been an ass to me, he practically ignored me for, like, three months, probably fuckin' cheated on me with his hot best friend, so i can't understand why i just wanna keep trying to fix things... and its so confusing 'cause everyone just keeps telling me to enjoy myself an' have fun, but i have no idea what i even want anymore, and i don't even know what we are right now and i can't fuckin' believe i cheated on my boyfriend with his fuckin' older brother and i don't know what i'd ever do if he found out."

by the end of it, you were letting out small, hiccuped sobs, breath fast and uneven just as it had been the night he'd invited you over. he honestly didn't know what to say, listening to you cry, staring at the steam of his breath as it dissipated out into the night. you were a good person, someone who was undeserving of such treatment from either him or eren, but it was simply an unfortunate coincidence that you had been caught in the fray.

he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts, preparing to deliver an affirmation similar to the one he'd given you a few days ago when you first laid all your relationship troubles out on the table, but there was a rapid, more insistent knocking at the bathroom door on your end. he could hear a female voice calling out your name, and the jiggling of the door knob.

"hold on," you paused, sniffling, "it's my roommate."

you steadied yourself enough to say that, tossing the phone somewhere before he heard the sound of the door unlocking. "there you are!! are you seriously wasted already? it's only, like, eleven?! why are you crying???" your roommate sounded tipsy, but nowhere near as intoxicated as you currently were, which eased zeke's initial worry, "jean! can you c'mere for a sec! wait, were you calling someone?"

there was a brief pause, and zeke could practically see your tiny nod and teary eyes in his head, then heels clicking over tile and the sound of the phone being lifted, followed by a hurried, "hey, this is her roommate! she's fine, gotta go!"

then silence, just him and the faint noise coming from inside the bar behind him. he didn't know what to think. from the sounds of it, it seemed like your friends were taking care of you for the time being, friends who names he vaguely remembered you speaking of when you'd been detailing your time at the halloween party—people that were unfamiliar to him, people he wasn't sure that he could trust. and a small part of him, a tiny voice at the back of his head, scoffed at his flimsy mask of worry that barely hid the true emotion, his possessive nature, driving his desire to go pick you up and bring you back to the apartment to take care of so you'd have to be there with him another morning with your thankful gazes and blunt, half-awake words.

he knew he was in no place to begin laying judgement at these unknown people in your life considering what he'd done, but it was an innate sort of feeling, the thought that always clouded his mind when he laid eyes on people that were younger than him, that he knew more than them, that somehow he would always be above them in an invisible hierarchy. that same feeling that he felt when he found himself looking down at you.

"zeke?" a warm, friendly voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes turning up from the ground to find a tired-looking marcel standing before him, "what are you doing out here by yourself?"

"smoke break." the lie slipped between his lips before he even thought of the fact that there was no cigarette between his fingers, no scent of smoke in the air or clinging to his clothes, "glad you could make it, everyone's inside. pretty sure porco already ordered you something."

but instead of immediately heading inside for zeke to come after him, marcel stood for a moment, lips drawing back and eyebrows knitting into a concerned expression. "is everything okay?"

zeke thought for a moment, giving a non-committal shrug in response.

"still having family troubles?"

despite having been quite fixated on his negative feelings revolving his own younger brother for the last few days, zeke had almost pushed out a majority of the sordid details of the entire situation out of his head, which now seemed to all flood back with such a short, simple question.

"you could say that." zeke scratched the back of his neck, now wishing he'd actually had a cigarette to take his mind off of all these turbulent thoughts, "all the arguing and shit subsided already, but..."

"anything from your dad?" marcel's voice was almost tentative asking that, frowning when zeke said nothing, "sorry.. didn't mean to be insensitive about it."

"it's not insensitive. just," he swallowed, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching out to push open the bar door, a silent, less embarrassing way to signal that he no longer wanted to talk about it anymore, "just kind of fresh. that's all."

they both stood in silence for a moment, marcel's eyes wandering his face, features expressing a clear concern, but thankfully, he didn't push the issue any further, simply following him inside like zeke wished he would've done minutes earlier to save him the trouble, proceeding to the booth housing their friends. the conversation didn't wander back to the topic of him and his morally dubious relations nor his current familial situation, much to his relief, making it much easier for him to just allow the conversation to flow around him, finding himself not having much of an appetite or desire to speak much with so much on his mind.

for a moment, zeke wondered to himself if this was a punishment from the universe, feeling so downtrodden on what was usually one of his more enjoyable nights in the week. not to say that they were always amazing to be around, but spending time with porco, reiner, marcel, and sometimes bertholdt made up most of the meaningful social interactions he had, and to have lost out on it today of all days just seemed like some odd form of karmic justice as a result of him behaving so selfishly.

but he held out for the rest of the evening anyways, going through more drinks that he probably should've, finding easier to tune in to porco and reiner's usual bickering, marcel's attempts to quell them, the ambient sound of bustling waiters and clinking glasses and plates to bury down any thought of you or his family or what was to come at the end of the week, the consequences with much more magnitude in his life than an just an unpleasant night out.

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previous chapter⥽

[angelofrainfrogs]

We Found Him, Superstar: Ch. 2

Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Since starting his new afterlife at the Pizzaplex, Gregory has managed to befriend the Glamrock animatronics and made a surprising discovery—Bonnie’s been hidden in the basement warehouse this entire time, badly decommissioned but still powered on. Along with Bonnie are the endoskeletons that, no longer under the virus’s control, seem much more sentient than normal animatronics… Gregory and his friends are determined to get Bonnie back into commission and figure out the mysteries of what exactly these endoskeletons are—and how to help them, too.

Chapter Summary: It’s daytime at the Pizzaplex, and Gregory is wide awake. Freddy has some free time in his schedule, so the pair decide to pay another visit to the daycare, as well as another attraction Gregory has yet to re-experience.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38728158/chapters/97220955

Freddy waited as long as he could to see if Gregory would wake up and join him for the day, but eventually he had to get ready for his first show. He patted Gregory’s head with a smile before leaving the room, but the boy was out cold and didn’t so much as shift. This didn’t surprise Freddy in the slightest, however; they’d been through a lot over the past 24 hours.

By the time Gregory finally woke up, it was around noon. He was wide-eyed and energized, immediately rolling off the couch. After checking the time, he quickly exited Freddy's room and took a look around, noticing a staff member staring at Freddy's door that seemed to open and close on its own. Gregory quickly ran off towards the main atrium in hopes to hear the band playing, although he reached the stage just as the animatronics ended their final song for the set. The boy wasted no time in hopping the barricade and following the animatronics to the backroom.

“Hello, Gregory!” Freddy greeted warmly once they were all backstage and assured no human staff were around.

“Hey, kid!” Roxy called, grinning as she brushed out her hair with her claws. “You almost slept the whole day away!”

“Yes, we missed you during this morning’s show!” Chica said with a bright smile.

“I was feeling pretty drained…,” Gregory replied, hugging onto Freddy for a moment before turning his grin towards the other animatronics.

“I am glad you got an adequate amount of rest,” Freddy said, ruffling Gregory's hair. “We still have another show this evening, so at least you will be able to see us on stage then!” He paused, checking his internal calendar, then grinned excitedly. “Actually, it looks like I have a block of free time in my schedule until the next performance; what would you like to do today, superstar?”

Gregory perked up a bit, lifting his head. “Hmm... I'm not sure! I'll just follow you around I guess, if you do anything when you're not hosting parties?”

“If we do not have anything scheduled between shows we generally wander around the facility, focusing on more populated areas,” the bear explained, then hummed thoughtfully. “I was thinking of going to the daycare today, as I would like to thank Sun for lending you those art supplies; we have been so busy that I have not had a chance to visit him!” He tilted his head questioningly. “What do you say, Gregory? I understand if you do not wish to visit Sun again quite yet...”

Monty chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. “I gotta make a special birthday appearance before our show, so I'll have to head off for this one!”

“I should get moving too; I have a Mazercise class in twenty minutes!” Chica piped up with a laugh.

“Yeah, I've gotta get to Fazer Blast and show off my awesome skills to my own birthday party!” Roxy added, then walked over to give Gregory a high-five before heading off. “See you around!”

Gregory waved goodbye to the animatronics as they walked away, then looked back at Freddy with a soft hum.

“Hmm… fine—as long as Sun doesn't go crazy or something,” he agreed, then let out a small sigh. Gregory knew he couldn't avoid Sun forever, and he also knew the daycare attendant meant well. He was just... very peculiar.

“If there is any mention of dimming the lights, I will carry you out immediately,” Freddy reassured him. Sun was wonderful, if a bit... excitable. Programming Sun to have another “side” when the lights went off, however, was certainly an interesting choice for Fazbear Entertainment—and that was saying a lot. Freddy wished he was able to get to know this other persona more but he didn’t visit the daycare often and, when he did, it was usually when the lights were bright and vibrant.

“Okay… I'm ready!” Gregory gently clung to Freddy's shoulders when the bear picked him up, steeling himself for the encounter ahead. He knew Sun was genuinely sweet, but he could also be genuinely terrifying as well. Freddy felt the boy holding him tighter and squeezed him comfortingly in return.

Despite taking the back passages to avoid guests, they made it to the entrance of the daycare in record time. As it was mid-day, this area was relatively clear since most of the children had already been dropped off and wouldn’t be picked up for another few hours. Even so, Freddy didn’t want to risk anyone flagging him as “malfunctioning.”

“I am going to put you down and hold your hand, alright?” he murmured to Gregory as they stood in a shadowy corner. “That way it is less obvious that something 'invisible' is capturing my attention, and I will get less questions.”

Gregory nodded as he straightened out his legs so Freddy could set him down. “I get it. I'll be fine, don't worry! Just act... natural!”

Freddy chuckled, setting him down. When they stepped through the main garage door, the animatronic was immediately set upon by a group of small kids that were waiting around while their parents signed them in.

“Hello, little ones!” Freddy said, crouching to greet them as they all reached for him at once, chattering excitedly. “I cannot stay for long up here, but I will play with you when we all get into the main daycare area!”

Gregory was only half paying attention to the interaction, more interested in looking around the daycare now that he didn’t have to sneak everywhere. Then, he saw it: the slide! Now that he knew Sun wouldn’t hurt him—not to mention the fact that he had Freddy nearby this time—his childlike instincts to play were coming back with a vengeance.

“…Can I go down the slide?” he asked softly, turning to face the animatronic.

“Here, little ones, it looks like your parents are finished,” Freddy said, meeting Gregory's eyes and giving him a nod. “Let me take you to the slide!” He stood, allowing the children to cling to his hands and legs, walking slowly so that Gregory could run ahead of them.

“Look! Watch, Freddy!” the boy insisted before pushing himself down the tube eagerly. A few seconds later he plopped into the ball bit, disappearing in the plethora of colorful plastic.

Freddy chuckled, glad to see Gregory having fun. Under the watchful eyes of the kids' parents he ushered them down the slide one by one, then quickly made his way downstairs to enter the large, wooden doors of the daycare. The human attendant nodded her head at the sight of him then immediately returned to her phone, knowing that Sun would get her attention if there was anything he couldn't handle.

Speaking of the daycare attendant, Sun was on the far end of the play area, and as Freddy squinted he could see that he was right next to... the ball pit. Freddy’s eyes widened and he began walking across the daycare as fast as he could. “Oh dear...”

Gregory slowly poked his head outside of the ball pit, taking a look around until he noticed Sun standing only a few feet away from him.

“Oh boy...,” he mumbled immediately sinking back into the plastic ocean with worry. Gregory knew he'd have to talk to him eventually, but he didn’t think he’d be now!

Freddy was desperately trying to make it over to the ball pit, but was stopped every couple of feet by a new group of children who were fascinated to see the Freddy Fazbear in their daycare! The animatronic did his best to acknowledge each of them without being too blunt, and eventually he was close enough to call out, “Sun!”

“Freddy!” Sun exclaimed, whirling around excitedly. The three year old boy in his arms giggled wildly at the sudden movement, then laughed even more when Sun started bouncing from foot to foot. “I haven't seen you in forever! Ooh, ooh, did you come to play?! Aww, the kids are already all over you; how cute!”

Upon hearing Sun yell out Freddy's name, Gregory was quick to make his way out of the ball pit and run over to the bear’s side. The children's short attention spans had already made them bored of the animatronic who was just standing and talking, so Gregory was able to latch onto his side with no issue. With Freddy’s comforting presence, Gregory could finally get a proper look at Sun—a feat which entailed craning his neck back at a sharp angle to see all of the lanky daycare attendant.

The boy grimaced. Sun sure was a big animatronic… it was honestly kind of intimidating for one who enjoyed arts and crafts with glitter glue.

Sun gasped loudly as Gregory appeared, quickly putting down the child in his arms so he could clap his hands together and jump even more vigorously. “GREGORY! Oh my goodness, I missed you! Freddy, your child is wonderful now that he can follow the rules!”

“Uh... I missed you, too?” Gregory responded warily, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“I am pleased that you two have seemed to make up somewhat,” Freddy said, giving the pair a soft smile.

“Oh, yes!” Sun nodded vigorously. “Like I said last time we met, Gregory, your dad came and told me all about what you did! I don't understand most of it, to be honest, but I know that you helped everyone who wasn't feeling so good, so that's why I'm willing to forgive you!” Sun finished his speech with a flourish of hands and a slight bow—although this made little height difference to a child.

Gregory stared up at Sun, humming quietly to himself before giving his own bow as best he could in Freddy’s arms. “Thanks for your forgiveness. And don’t worry—I'll never turn the lights off again…”

Sun grinned down at him, clasping his hands together again. “Ooh, so what did you make with the arts and crafts supplies?! Something fun, I hope!”

“Oh, I apologize, we did not bring them back today...,” Freddy said, shifting Gregory into a more comfortable position. Sun waved a dismissive hand.

“No worries, no worries! We have tons of supplies!” He jumped slightly, though it did seem like he was trying to tone it down. Now that he'd been actively conversing with Gregory for more than a few minutes, he could tell that the boy was a little shyer than he'd originally thought—at least, that's what he assumed, which was the reason the boy looked so nervous around him! “Anyway, tell me, tell me—what did you make?!”

“I colored and made necklaces for Monty, Roxy, Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy!” Gregory answered confidently, resting his hands on his hips. He was still quite proud of his accomplishments, especially his macaroni works of art.

Sun squealed excitedly. “Oh, that is so sweet! You’re so cute!” Without warning, he bent and grabbed Gregory under the shoulders, hoisting him high into the air. The boy was adorable—what else was he supposed to do?!

“Ah, Sun, wait!” Freddy exclaimed as Gregory was lifted faster than he could react. Luckily, he managed to grab onto his ankle, which at least stopped the boy from being raised higher. He wondered not for the first time why they had to make Sun so tall…

Gregory squeaked as he was suddenly lifted up into the air, staring wide-eyed at the daycare attendant for a moment before looking down at Freddy. Once he recovered from the shock, he gave Sun a nervous smile. “U-Um… Thanks! I would've made you one, too, but I ran out of string.”

“Oh, that's ok!” Sun said cheerily. He felt resistance on Gregory's leg and looked down at Freddy with a laugh. “Maybe we can all make some together in the arts and crafts area! I think we just got some new supplies—”

“Attention!” came an unseen voice over the loudspeaker. “Naptime will begin in five minutes! Staff, please make the necessary preparations!”

“Oh no!” Sun yelped, quickly shoving Gregory back into Freddy's waiting arms before looking around frantically. “Oh no, oh no! You both should leave; Moon will not be happy if you keep the kids up!”

“Yeah, let’s go, Freddy!” Gregory insisted as he repeatedly tapped on Freddy's shoulder. Even though he’d probably pass out for a good few hours if he were to told to lay down for a rest, Gregory did not want do fall asleep here—the last thing he wanted to see when he opened his eyes was Moon’s leering grin.

Freddy frowned; he never understood why Sun referred to his “other” side in third person... Still, the daycare attendant had a point. Clutching Gregory tightly, Freddy made his way to the exit. Unfortunately, the children that were previously ignoring him now rushed him at once, some of them looking utterly terrified.

“Little ones, I am sorry, but I must go!” Freddy said, frantically trying to dislodge himself from one particularly sticky kid who grabbed onto his leg. Suddenly, the extra weight was removed as Sun lifted the child up, trying to comfort him.

“It's okay, it's okay!” Sun said as all the other kids tried to crowd around him for safety, then gestured with one hand for Freddy and Gregory to leave. With this cue Freddy exited through the big wooden doors, closing it securely behind him. He and Gregory were halfway up the staircase to the upper level when the lights went out.

Gregory couldn't help but stare over Freddy's shoulder as the bear took them to safety. He watched with horrified fascination as Moon suddenly exited from the ball pit, seeming to have crawled out from the depths of it. However, that wasn’t the strangest part—that was watching Sun set the child back down and swiftly retreat to the room above the stage, literally crawling up the wall and disappearing through the tiny opening. It all happened so quickly, but the sight was enough to make Gregory's jaw drop.

Not only were they scarily fast... but they were separate animatronics.

“F-Freddy! Did you see that?!” Gregory asked, patting the bear’s shoulder again. However, it seemed Freddy was trying hard to get Gregory as far away from the daycare as possible and didn’t have time to peer behind him. “Th-There are two—what... No, wait—there’s a Sun and a Moon!”

Freddy shook his head, keeping an eye on the approaching exit. “No, Gregory, that is just a trick of the light; there is only one daycare attendant, and that is Sun. When the lights go out, he… well, transforms is the best word for it. He is quite the technological marvel, all things considered!” Though he tried to make light of the situation, Freddy was mentally kicking himself. He should’ve hidden Gregory’s face as they ran away; the boy obviously wasn’t quite ready to face Sun’s other side yet…

“Freddy, I saw it!” Gregory insisted as he leaned his head back down on Freddy’s shoulder. He was completely convinced that what he saw was not a trick—he’d definitely seen two daycare attendants existing in the same place at the same time, if only briefly. Well, at least now he knew Sun was in fact harmless, due to the fact that he’d apparently never chased him that night… However, that just gave Gregory one more animatronic to worry about.

Freddy simply squeezed Gregory tightly as they exited the daycare. So much for that meeting… it had gone well at first, but as usual, Sun was a hard animatronic to understand. Freddy stopped in a shady corner out of the public eye so they could speak more easily.

“I am sorry; I did not realize that nap time would be so soon,” the bear apologized, offering a smile. “We still have a good amount of time before the evening’s performance; I know that Monty and Roxy are hosting parties, but Chica is leading a Mazercise class… would you want to check it out?”

“Yeah… that's fine,” Gregory replied with a nod as he clung to Freddy's shoulders, not wanting to let go of him just yet. “What's Mazercise anyways?”

“Chica may be able to explain more, but from my understanding the name comes from the fact that the attraction has both an exercise room and a maze,” Freddy said, shifting Gregory’s weight to one arm but still allowing him to cling. He began walking as he continued excitedly. “The walls of the maze are moveable, so there is a new configuration every hour!” He hummed in thought. “I also recall Chica talking about eating while exercising, which is an interesting concept…”

“That sounds... kinda fun!” Gregory smiled as he rested his head against Freddy's shoulder. “A lot more fun than staying in the daycare!” He grimaced as a thought occurred: would he ever be sent the daycare if something came up in Freddy's schedule and none of the other Glamrocks could watch him? Honestly… he'd much rather sit with the endoskeletons in the basement.

Freddy smiled as he walked them over to Mazercise, using as many back passageways as he could to avoid crowds. He eventually set Gregory down in favor of taking his hand, and soon they were opening the doors to the attraction. Chica was on stage, dancing to high-energy music while a smattering of kids jumped along with her. There were about three adults total milling around by the drink machine, but they weren’t paying much attention to the group on the dance floor. Freddy gently pulled Gregory to the back of the room and gave Chica a wave, hoping she’d see them and come over after she was finished.

Gregory watched Chica from where she danced, soon making eye contact with the animatronic. She could clearly see Freddy and Gregory from where she was on stage, offering them a bright smile and a wink.

“Alright kiddos, break time! Make sure you drink some water and keep hydrated!” Chica announced as the song came to an end and she stepped off of the stage, making her way around to Gregory and Freddy. “Hi, you two! Glad you guys stopped for a visit!”

“Hello Chica!” Freddy greeted as she came over. “You look busy as always!”

“Mhm! My schedule has been pretty packed recently.” She looked down at Gregory with a bright smile, who offered a grin of his own.

“It's very... pink in here,” he mentioned, to which Chica let out a small laugh.

“Well, it’s my favorite color, after all!” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “So, what brings you guys in? I didn't expect to see you over here any time soon!”

Freddy and Gregory shared a side-eyed glance before Freddy tried to explain: “We originally went to visit Sun in the daycare, but as we were speaking we realized that nap time was fast approaching, so… we decided to come and visit you instead!” He smiled again, ruffling Gregory’s hair. “Gregory has not gotten to see you in action yet, unlike the others. I also thought he might enjoy the maze and the exercise—well, the included food breaks, at least!” He chuckled, looking over at the small group of kids standing by their parents and stuffing their faces full of pizza.

“Did you know that there are two Suns?!” Gregory suddenly piped up, the memory of his earlier revelation prompted by mention of the daycare. “Or, I guess there's a Sun and a Moon, but they're two different animatronics!” He stared up at Chica with eyes as big as dinner plates. Chica simply giggled and crouched down to pat Gregory's head.

“Oh, Sun is certainly a character! His alter ego can be a bit all over the place, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him,” she said before standing back up and looking over towards Freddy. “Anyway, I'm so glad you guys decided to stop by! The exercise part is easy-peasy!”

“I am sure that—oh! Hello there!” Freddy exclaimed as one of the other kids suddenly appeared at his side and latched herself onto his leg. Before he could try and shake her off another kid grabbed his hand, and soon the parents walked over and asked if Freddy would mind spending some time with them and taking a few pictures before the next round of dance class.

“Ah, well… of course not!” Freddy said, knowing he really should be keeping up appearances. As he was tugged towards the other side of the room, he flashed an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “And I am sure that if Chica had any children nearby, she certainly would not mind entertaining them while I am busy!”

Chica giggled quietly as she watched the children approach Freddy with open arms—she’d always found the way they got the animatronics’ attention so adorable! Once Freddy was pulled away, she looked down at Gregory. “We'll be doing a lot of fun dancing exercises, so you can just follow my lead!”

Gregory hummed, tapping his foot as he listened to the current beat playing. “I can dance! Not good, though. But I'll practice.”

Freddy posed for some pictures and entertained the kids, until their attention was diverted back to the dance floor as Chica enthusiastically began the next set of exercises. The kids rushed over to join the small group, giggling as they ran. After receiving a thank-you from their parents, Freddy retreated to the back of the room to take a little break. He smiled as he noticed Gregory near the speaker, simultaneously trying to follow Chica’s moves while also dancing to his own beat. He seemed to be having a great time, and that warmed Freddy’s heart immensely.

“You guys are doing great!” the bird chirped, waving at Gregory who was in his own little world at the moment, having completely forgone all attempts to listen to her instructions. Freddy laughed as he watched Gregory go, meeting Chica's gaze and shaking his head endearingly. They'd work on following the actual dance class another day—for now, Freddy was content to let Gregory dance however he pleased.

After awhile, Gregory eventually calmed down and looked around, only to find Freddy watching him from where he stood. He quickly ran over to him, smiling softly. “I like this music!”

“I am glad!” Freddy said, smiling down at him. “Maybe we can get Chica to let you spend some time in here after hours and you can dance to your heart’s content!” He gestured to the door leading into the other area. “Would you like to try out the maze?”

“Yes please!” Gregory agreed, looking over towards the door. “But you’ve gotta come with me!”

“Of course!” Freddy agreed with a nod, leading Gregory towards the other room. “Since the maze changes so frequently, this is one attraction where I do not have an advantage, as I cannot tell its configuration,” Freddy added, since this was such a rare occurrence. For once, he could participate in an activity with Gregory and not know exactly how to win from the get-go!

Gregory let out a small cheer, throwing his hands up into the air. “Now this’ll be fair game!”

They stopped in front of the maze entrance, where a bored looking employee stood staring into space. She perked up when she saw Freddy, beginning her usual speech:

“Welcome to the maze! The goal is to make it to the other side, and—” She paused, looking at Freddy with a frown. “Uhh, Freddy? You by yourself today?”

“Yes,” Freddy replied easily as he smiled down at the employee. “I do not have anything on my schedule and have not been through the maze recently, so I would like to keep my skills up.”

She stared at him for a moment, before shrugging and heading off to a side room, saying, “Whaaatever; let me rearrange the walls, then you can go. Give me like two minutes.”

Freddy waved as she walked away, then gave Gregory a subtle wink. Quietly, he asked: “How about we make it a race to the finish?”

Gregory stuck his tongue out at the woman’s back, but quickly turned to face Freddy with a bright grin. “Yes! That'll be fun! And this time I'll definitely beat you!” He puffed out his chest confidently.

Before Freddy could respond, a buzzer sounded that signaled the maze was ready. “Alright, on the count of three: one… two… three!”

As soon as the countdown ended, Gregory was quick to run down the maze. He began looking around curiously, poking his head around different corners before finally disappearing from Freddy’s view. The bear followed after, walking at a leisurely pace. He was trying to find the exit, but admittedly wasn’t trying too hard… After a few minutes, he heard a cheer of victory and picked up speed, soon joining Gregory at the exit.

“Well done, superstar!” he said once he’d reached the boy, holding up a hand for a high-five.

“Yessss! Now I'm a winner just like you!” Gregory exclaimed, jumping to reach the bear’s outstretched hand.

“You are indeed!” Freddy agreed, leading them back to the dance area. “Although, I have considered you a winner for quite some time.”

“Yeah, but this just confirms it ten times more!”

Freddy laughed, catching Chica’s eye and waving. He paused, checking his internal clock, and then pointed to his wrist as a signal for her to check the time as well. He tilted his head towards Gregory, quietly letting him know, “It is almost time for our final performance for the day.”

“I wish I could play an instrument,” Gregory mused as he watched Chica finish up her last dance. “I've never played one before!”

“Hmm…” Freddy hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger to his chin. “If you could play any instrument, what would it be?”

“Umm… Maybe something cool, like the drums!” Slamming on drums—or anything percussion-related—sounded like fun.

Freddy hummed again. “Well, the band does not have a drummer…” He grinned down at Gregory. “Maybe that is something one of us could teach you! I am sure we would be able to download some software that would give us that knowledge; perhaps I will bring it up with the techs sometime…”

Gregory gasped, clapping his hands excitedly. “Yes! Or, maybe Bonnie can be the new drummer!” He tilted his head questioningly. “Actually, what instrument did he play?”

“He played the bass, just as Monty does now,” Freddy replied, his smile softening at the memories of being on stage with the rabbit.

“Oh, like the guitar? Also, can we visit the basement after your show?!”

“Yes to both questions!” Freddy laughed. “I am glad you brought that up, actually; I would like to give Bonnie a Fazwatch so he can communicate directly with me, just as you can.”

“Does that mean I can talk to him, too?!” Gregory asked, jumping excitedly. Despite the sad physical state he was in, Bonnie seemed just as nice as the other animatronics and Gregory couldn’t wait to get to know him better.

Freddy thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I believe I can set the frequency of the watches so that they can communicate with both myself and each other; that way, you can talk to one or both of us at a time!”

“Woah! That's so cool!” Gregory squealed, throwing his fists up in the air. “You're the smartest dad ever!”

Freddy chuckled, then perked up as Chica bounded over to them. “Hello again! Are you ready to head backstage?”

“Yup! How was the maze?” Chica asked with a tilt of her head.

“It was so fun!” Gregory told her. “Me and Freddy did a race and I finally won!”

“I was no match for him this time,” Freddy added, then stepped a little closer to Chica as they passed a few customers milling around. “Gregory and I are going to see Bonnie after the show; I am giving him a way to communicate with us so you will hopefully be able to speak with him soon as well!”

“That's great, sweetheart! You're a pro just like Freddy!” Chica said to Gregory, then pressed a hand over where her heart would be as she turned to the bear. “Aw, that'd be great! I sure miss him...”

“It will be even more wonderful when he is repaired and back with us again,” Freddy added as they finally stepped backstage. He gave Monty and Roxy a wave, then crouched to Gregory’s level and ruffled his hair. “Okay superstar, I am counting on you to find the best seat in the house tonight! I will see you again after the show.”

“I will, I promise!” Gregory smiled, leaning into Freddy's palm comfortably for a second before dashing off towards the floor in front of the stage to look for the best spot to watch the performance.

***

Masterlist of chapters on Tumblr here!

Please check out The Superstar Series on ao3 for all fics in this series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2726401