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libraryofgage · 9 months

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Addams Family Steddie AU Part 2

Part two of the Addams Family Steddie AU from this post! Anyway, here are five times Eddie gave Steve a gift plus one particularly special gift Steve gave him in return

I'll be honest, this one really got away from me LMAO

Also, @xjessicafaithx asked to be tagged if there was a part two so here ya go! I have a few more ideas for this AU so there might be more parts later too lol

One~

Steve is idly flipping through the mail he just pulled out of the mailbox, delaying his return to the house where Dustin is currently screaming about dice rolls over a Discord call, when he feels someone staring at him. His shoulders tense, and his grip on a junk letter creases the envelope as he looks up.

Crouching on the walkway leading up to a pitch-black house, elbows resting on his knees and a covered plate in his hands, is Eddie Munson. He's staring straight at Steve, eyes practically boring through him. When he realizes Steve has noticed him, Eddie perks up and balances the plate in one hand so he can wave with the other.

Steve hesitates before flashing an unsure smile and waving back. He thinks of the recently-washed plate that held the arsenic and chocolate chip cookies currently in his kitchen, waiting to be returned. Maybe he can return it now?

While he's thinking, Eddie has apparently taken the wave as permission to pop to his feet and walk over. And, well, he isn't wrong. It's not like Steve immediately started walking away after waving; he just kept standing there, locked in place by neighborly social conventions and Eddie's intense gaze.

"Good morning, Stevie," Eddie says, flashing that too-sharp grin at Steve as he leans on the mailbox. "You're looking particularly ravishing today."

"Ravishing?"

Eddie slowly looks him up and down, his eyes dragging along Steve's figure before finally letting their gazes meet once more. "Good enough to eat, really," Eddie replies, leaning in a little closer and making Steve's heart race with something that could be fear but is more likely embarrassment. Not that he wants to admit that. So, fear it is.

Steve laughs awkwardly and leans back, looking away and blaming the heat in his cheeks on the sun. "Uh, thanks. You, uh, look nice too," he says, glancing back at Eddie to take in the ripped jeans and short-sleeved black button-down (is that silk? It looks like silk) and chunky rings shaped like bats and skulls and coffins and wow, Eddie's fingers are kind of long.

Thankfully, Steve is saved from his mind wandering too far by Eddie shoving the covered plate into his hands. It's a familiar motion, and Steve almost laughs at it. "Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says, letting his fingers brush across the back of Steve's hands before pulling away. "Anyway, Wayne baked more last night before communing with some spirits. He made too many eye of newt brownies, and I thought you'd enjoy them."

Steve blinks, looking down at the plate in his hands. "Eye of newt?" he asks, curiously lifting the tin foil to see perfectly normal-looking brownies inside.

"Yeah, they're to die for," Eddie says, his grin widening as he pushes off the mailbox and leaves Steve with a plate of brownies and a confusing feeling in his chest.

Two~

"She likes meatballs."

Steve blinks, staring at the concerningly large Venus Fly Trap in El's hands. Behind her, Eddie is smirking at him, holding his sister's shoulders and giving Steve an expectant look as El holds the flower pot out to him. The pot itself is also concerningly large for how she's holding it, and Steve can't stop himself from quickly taking the pot so she doesn't strain her back any more than she already has.

He grunts at the sudden weight when she lets go but doesn't drop the pot. Instead, he carefully and gently places it on the ground, silently letting out a breath of relief as the plant sways slightly in the pot, brushing against his hip.

The two had caught Steve when he was getting out of his car, his entire body already feeling heavy from work. His plan had been to go inside, do his best to not fall asleep standing in the shower, make Dustin dinner, and then pass out in bed until his alarm woke him again in the morning.

But instead, El had run over to him the moment he got out of his car, cheeks slightly flushed with excitement as she offered him the plant. Eddie had leisurely followed her over, amusement clear on his face as he watched Steve's brain struggle to catch up.

"Doesn't she eat flies?" Steve asks, looking down at the plant. For some reason, he feels like it's staring back at him.

El shakes her head. "Flies are not big enough. You should feed her one pound of meatballs on Wednesday and Sunday."

Cool. Great. Perfectly normal. It's not like Steve has had a Venus Fly Trap before, so he can't contest that. "Why are you giving her to me?" he asks, tearing his eyes away from the plant to look at El.

"Aunt Morticia took cuttings of her Cleopatra and sent us a few," El says, her tone implying that should be more than enough explanation.

Steve's expression, however, surely says differently. Thankfully, Eddie picks up on it and leans forward over El. "She'll make a great guard plant for you and Dustin, Stevie. Plus, she's almost as good a listener as I am," he explains, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, pointedly ignoring the second part of that explanation. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Nix," El tells him.

"Nix?"

"Yeah. Stevie," Eddie says, pointing at him before pointing to the plant and saying, "Nix. Because you said you like Fleetwood Mac."

Yeah, Steve did say that, but it was in passing, and he didn't think Eddie had actually heard him say it or paid any attention. It was said to Dustin while they were walking to the car, and Eddie had just happened to be sitting on his porch at the time.

But he did pay attention. And now he and El have given Steve and Dustin a plant whose name is a reference to Fleetwood Mac. Steve can't help a smile, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than just ten minutes ago. "Thanks, I know Dustin will love her, too," he says, feeling blinded by the tiny smile from El and the full-on grin from Eddie.

Three~

Nix likes to get sun, but she doesn't like being in the sun for too long. She also doesn't like staying still in the sun; she prefers to be moved around constantly, never staying in one spot for more than a minute if she's particularly patient. She also prefers to go on a sun walk right after eating her pound of meatballs.

These are things Steve learns over the course of three weeks through trial and error that often resulted in Nix snapping shut around his arm whenever he didn't immediately do as she liked. Steve had never heard of a plant having a personality before (especially not such a temperamental one), but he's come to find it endearing. Plus, carrying Nix around the yard does make for an effective workout.

So, on a very hot Sunday at the very end of June, Steve is carrying Nix around his backyard. Her pot is in his arms, sweat is dripping down his back, and Nix is helpfully trying to shade his head from the sun using her...head? Steve actually isn't sure what to call the top part of her. Is it a mouth?

"It's called a lobe."

Steve jumps, his grip on Nix's pot tightening as he whips his head around and sees Eddie crouching on the fence dividing their yards. He isn't even sure how Eddie manages it, considering how narrow the fence is, but he's also stopped trying to figure it out.

"What is?" he asks.

Eddie hops down, walking over to Steve and carefully taking Nix out of his hands. He continues walking around the backyard, and Steve doesn't even question following him. "This," Eddie says, pointing to the top of Nix's head. "This is called a lobe."

"How'd you..."

"You had a curious expression and were looking at Nix."

"You know my curious expression?"

Eddie looks over at Steve, a smile pulling at his lips and his eyes softening some, and Steve suddenly feels like he's drowning in the ocean and floating among the clouds. "I know all your expressions, Stevie," Eddie tells him.

Steve feels seen and terrified and...and utterly under whatever spell Eddie has spent the past few months carefully casting. He doesn't say anything about it, though. Instead, he rather dumbly says, "Oh."

The smile widens, and Steve finds himself wondering not for the first time what it would feel like to run his tongue over Eddie's too-sharp canines. "By the way, I got something for you, Stevie."

Steve blinks, watching as Eddie easily cradles Nix's pot in one arm and reaches into his back pocket. For a brief moment, Steve thinks he's going to pull out his dagger again. Last time, he'd placed it in Steve's hand and very seriously told him, "If you ever see me on the verge of death, take this dagger and stab it through my heart. I'd rather die by your hand than whatever else got to me first." He'd then showed Steve where he kept it, his smile bright despite his words leaving Steve speechless.

Eddie does not, in fact, pull out a dagger. He pulls out a tiny, leatherbound journal. The journal is black like everything else the Munson family owns, and a heart is carefully painted onto the cover with two skulls looking outwards and meeting at the jaws to create the heart's point.

Steve slowly takes the journal, the cover feeling soft under his thumb, and he looks up at Eddie. His confusion is made even stronger when he sees his bashful expression. Eddie uses his free hand to tug on a lock of his hair, habitually hiding his mouth behind it. "I, uh, write music, you know," he says, waiting for Steve to nod once before rushing out in one breath, "I wrote songs for you."

When the words actually register, Steve's eyes widen, and he cracks the journal open to a random page. Eddie's familiar scratchy handwriting crosses the paper. Steve can only just see a line about the arrows of fate and burning stars before Eddie's hand covers the page. "Maybe, uh, maybe read them later."

Steve easily agrees, and Eddie quickly changes the subject. After finishing Nix's walk around the garden, Eddie helps Steve return her to her room and returns himself to his own home. Steve watches Eddie through the window, waiting for him to go inside before opening the journal once more and finding the page Eddie had covered.

i'll throw myself before the arrows of your fate// take all your misfortune as the gift it is// piercing my ribs as you burn brighter than stars// unhindered by the despair i have stolen for myself

Four~

Eddie's hand is warm in Steve's as he leads him up the stairs of the Munson home. The halls are dimly lit by old lanterns whose flames make shadows dance across the walls, and Steve finds them more romantic than creepy. When they reach the attic, Eddie stops at the door. "Okay, some of them don't look like normal bats," he says, turning to look at Steve.

"Are you giving me one of the normal ones?"

Eddie nods once. "Yeah, the demobats are too unpredictable, and the hivemind doesn't help. You wanted one bat, not a swarm."

Steve hums softly, leaning closer and placing his free hand on Eddie's chest, right over his heart. "I would accept a swarm if you gave it to me, babe," he says, smiling reassuringly at Eddie.

His words are rewarded with an arm around his waist, holding him closer like Eddie wants to pull Steve under his skin and hold him in the spaces between his bones. "But I wouldn't get nearly as much attention then, Stevie," he replies, punctuating each word with tiny pecks that begin at his forehead, follow the bridge of his nose, and end on his lips in a lingering kiss.

Steve almost loses himself in it, but he'd rather not get carried away where Wayne or El could catch them. So he begrudgingly pulls away, playfully reaching up and tugging one of Eddie's locks when he pouts. "You know you're dearer to me than all the bats in the world, Eddie. Now, which bat is mine?"

Eddie's pout immediately becomes a grin, and he opens the attic door. It's dark as night in the room, the only lights coming from red eyes staring at them from the ceiling. Eddie keeps his arm around Steve's waist, keeping him close as he shortly whistles three times. A screech sounds from the ceiling, followed by the flapping of wings and a bat flying out to land on Eddie's outstretched arm.

With his foot, Eddie shuts the door as he holds the bat in front of Steve so he can get a better look. The bat is small, no more than three inches, and its nose looks vaguely like an upside-down heart. It tilts its head, studying Steve in return as it shifts on Eddie's hand. "Isn't she cute?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles and holds his hand out to the bat, a few seconds passing before she moves from Eddie to him. "Yeah, she's really cute," he says as she surveys her new spot. She shifts a few times before pushing off Steve's hand and flying to his shoulder. She settles close to his neck, a warm softness against his skin partially hidden by his hair. And then she chirps, sounding like the squeaking of sneakers on a gym floor.

"She's an African heart-nosed bat," Eddie explains, starting to pull Steve down the stairs again. "They're very territorial, and they mark their territory by singing."

"Is that what she's doing?" Steve asks, raising his free hand to gently brush a finger against her head. She humors the touch for a few seconds before gently nipping his finger, not breaking the skin but clearly getting across that he shouldn't touch her anymore.

"Yep," Eddie says, grinning at Steve. "So, what are you gonna name her?"

Five ~

Hulyet buries herself in Steve's hair as he stares at the floor-length black dress Eddie holds up. She apparently picks up on Steve's confusion and slight concern, decides something is invading their territory, and begins singing aggressively in Eddie's direction.

The sudden squeaks and chirps break Steve out of his confusion, and he can't help a laugh. He reaches up, gently stroking her back to reassure her that everything is fine, and asks Eddie, "What's with the dress?"

"All Hallow's Eve is approaching," Eddie says, "I thought we could go as Dracula and his bride."

"Am I the bride?"

Eddie pauses, looking at the dress for a moment before looking back at Steve. "I haven't figured that out yet," he admits. "If you don't want to be the bride, I don't mind it."

Steve blinks, suddenly realizing this is Eddie trying to plan a couple's costume for Halloween. A familiar warmth floods through him, and he can't help smiling. He studies the dress, coming to the conclusion that he doesn't mind wearing it. For Eddie, of course.

Well, actually, he also thinks it looks hot.

"Okay. Let me try it on," he says, holding out his hands. Eddie lights up, handing over the dress and looking at Steve expectantly.

Well, there goes changing in the bathroom. Steve sighs, feels relieved he wore briefs, and strips down. Hulyet grips tighter to his hair as he moves, chirping once in indignation before settling once more as Steve wiggles his way into the dress.

It's tight, but not overly so. The material hugs curves Steve didn't even know he had, and the neckline plunges between his pecs and stretches into off-shoulder sleeves. The very bottom of the dress flares outward in a spiderweb pattern formed by lace. He takes a few experimental steps, relieved to find his movement isn't too restricted by the dress and fascinated to discover the spiderweb at the bottom stays perfectly spread out.

"How's it look?" Steve asks, turning to Eddie only to find that he'd moved right behind him at some point. He startles, taking a step back and getting his foot caught on the back of the dress. Before he can hit the floor, though, Eddie catches him, arms around his waist and holding him in a dip.

Steve's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breath short as he tightly grips Eddie's jacket collar and tries to ignore Hulyet painfully yanking on his hair. Eddie grins at him and says, "You look enchanting, Stevie. I would have fallen on my knees to worship you if you didn't beat me to the falling part."

Steve snorts and relaxes his grip, sliding his arms around Eddie's neck instead. "How long are you planning to hold me like this?" he asks.

"I could hold you as the world burns to ash around us. Even after we die and have decomposed, our skeletons will still be wrapped around each other, forever locked together."

From anyone else, Steve thinks he would worry about being murdered. But from Eddie, Steve just thinks it's one of the most romantic things he's ever heard, right alongside everything else Eddie has ever said to him. "That sounds perfect," he says, happily smiling into the kiss Eddie gives him.

Plus One~

"Fucking hell, Steve, stop bothering me about this!"

Steve frowns at Dustin, slouching on the couch as he anxiously turns a velvet box over in his hands. Dustin is laid out on the floor with a bowl of cheese puffs, his head resting on Dart's back as the demodog naps. "You're such a supportive brother," Steve says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dustin scoffs and throws a cheese puff at Steve's head. "I was plenty supportive the first fifteen times! Just fucking give him the ring already," Dustin says, returning the stuck-out tongue that Steve sends him before looking down at his phone and typing something. "Dude, it's Eddie. You could give him a used soda can and he'd give it a fucking pedestal in his room."

Okay, yeah, Dustin has a point. That doesn't make Steve any less nervous, though. He forces himself to take a deep breath, pushing down his anxiety long enough to say, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Literally, when have I ever been wrong, Steve?"

"Shut up."

Dustin flashes a grin just as Eddie's familiar rhythmic knock sounds against the door right before he opens the door. "By the way, I told Eddie to come over so you'd stop bothering me," Dustin tells him, his grin widening as Eddie saunters into the room.

"All right, gremlin," Eddie says, nudging Dustin with his foot, "get out."

As Dustin practically bolts from the room, Dart right on his heels, Steve decides he's going to make zucchini spaghetti for dinner so Dustin is forced to suffer through vegetables.

"So, whatcha got there, Stevie?" Eddie asks, perching on the couch next to Steve and looking pointedly at the box in his hands.

Well, there's no escaping it now.

Steve takes one more deep breath and opens the box. He pulls out the ring inside and presents it to Eddie. It's smaller than the rings he normally wears, but the sterling silver band is engraved with bat wings and an anatomical heart is carved into the garnet on top. A small, almost imperceptible clasp can be found just under the garnet. "I found it at an antique store with El and Max," Steve explains. He hesitates before carefully pushing the clasp to reveal a compartment just beneath the garnet. "It's one of those poison rings."

Eddie is uncharacteristically silent as he takes the ring, carefully shutting the compartment so he can turn it over in his hands. Once he's fully inspected the band and garnet, he pushes on the clasp and studies the size of the compartment. Finally, he slips the ring onto his left ring finger, his sharp canines coming into full view as he grins. "Yes, of course."

"Uh, yes what?"

"You're proposing, and I'm saying yes," Eddie explains, taking Steve's hand and bringing it to his lips. He kisses Steve's palm before lightly dragging his teeth over it, and Steve thinks he shows incredible character growth by not jerking his hand away.

His brain catches up a few seconds later. "Wait, proposing? This wasn't...I just...we've only been dating for three months?"

Eddie hums softly in agreement, sliding Steve's hand to his cheek and leaning into the touch. "I know," he says, "We've shown incredible restraint so far. Most Munsons get married within weeks of meeting their loves."

Honestly, that doesn't surprise Steve at all. Who could resist the Munson charm? Who could say no to the all-consuming devotion that shows no sign of ever fading? Steve's mouth suddenly feels dry. "Right," he mumbles, gently brushing his thumb over Eddie's cheek, "That, um, that's just a little fast, I think."

Eddie's smile doesn't fade one bit. He just nods, his eyes glowing with understanding and love and Steve's weakening resolve practically crumbles when Eddie says, "That's okay, Stevie. As long as I can see you and be near you, I don't care about anything else. You could put a knife through my heart, and I'd thank you for the chance to get a closer look at your eyes."

Steve...Steve is fucking weak. He abandons any idea of maintaining a distance between them, climbing into Eddie's lap and kissing the cheek he isn't holding. "It's not an engagement ring, but...but consider it an engaged-to-be-engaged ring," he says, the words feeling ridiculous as he speaks them.

But that doesn't matter because Eddie practically lights up. "Is that a promise? That we're engaged to be engaged?" he asks.

"Yeah," Steve says, his voice soft, "Just wait at least three more months before you propose, okay?"

Eddie's grin gets even wider, and he presses a searing kiss to Steve's lips, leaving him breathless and light-headed and absolutely sure Eddie is already planning his proposal.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #addams family au #addams! Eddie Munson #dustin henderson #el hopper #hulyet is yiddish for howl btw #addams family steddie #addams family romance my beloved #my writing

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gutsby · 4 months

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Joel Miller

Waiting Game (dbf!Joel)

Joel has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

One shots for the Waiting Game ‘verse

Homemade: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Diehard: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Ruined!: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Cabin Fever (Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader) [DEAD DOVE]

Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Confines: Joel locks you up in a subterranean bunker.

Finders Keepers (bfd!Joel)

Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old shirt of his lying around, you can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Cry, Baby

Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Just Peachy [anal]

Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.

Bucky Barnes

Wedded Bliss (Mob!Bucky)

The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Daryl Dixon

Dead Ringer

Weeks of separation and sexual frustration come to a head when Daryl pays you a visit in the middle of the night. Whether it's the product of your own sex-deprived subconscious or reality, you can't be sure—and couldn't care less. Daryl wants to fulfill the fantasy any way he can.

Easy Street

You steal a cop car and almost run Daryl over en route to the Sanctuary. You can’t decide if you want to fight him, fuck him, or bring him back to Negan. Lucky for you, Daryl is game for all three.

Nighthawk

You decide to bring Spencer to the neighborhood Halloween bash to take your mind off your breakup with Daryl. Your ex isn't so easily convinced of your intentions and decides there's no better place than his motorcycle to show you just how much he misses you.

Cherry Pie

You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Walker Bait

An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk

Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Honey Trap

You’ve been tasked with two simple jobs: infiltrate Alexandria’s community and bring intel back to your boss by any means necessary. When your entry point into the group takes the form of a familiar blue-eyed archer, you expect this to be your easiest gig yet—that is, until your prey decides to hunt you back.

Pregnant Pause

Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Mr. Dixon

Your efforts to seduce the DILF next door have all failed spectacularly, so you decide a wet hot car wash in front of his house is in order. Mr. Dixon is less than impressed with your antics and plans to teach you a lesson in good manners and ‘neighborliness.’

I’m a Good Girl, Officer!

Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.

Playing Dangerous

Working undercover in a seedy part of town, homicide detective Daryl sees you in your skimpy club attire and mistakes you for a hooker. A wrongful arrest makes for a funny way to foreplay, but you’re still game.

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Best Served Cold

Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Coming Soon:

Bite the Bullet

Back at the prison, new recruits have been showering you with gifts. One of these presents doesn’t sit quite right with Daryl, and he decides it’s time to let the men know just how he feels—and who you belong to.

Atlantic City

A very drunk Daryl meets a stripper in Jersey and wastes no time putting a ring on her finger. With the late, great Elvis Presley presiding, the two get hitched in a slipshod ceremony a couple weeks before the world descends into chaos. This marriage may be short-lived, but damn if the honeymoon won’t be one to remember.

Requests are open!

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kingcrow01 · 4 months

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DC x Marvel Fic Recs

@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest

Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with

Peter Parker / DC Series:

The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone

Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.

Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana

So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.

Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby

Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.

Pizzaverse Series by Irisen

A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.

Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress

Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.

Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool

Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.

Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent

Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.

Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:

Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel

After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.

from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic

Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.

The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13

Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock

Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone

What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.

Echolocation Series by Firecat23

Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Peter Parker slash fics:

Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker

Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones

Quiet Respite by @faeriekit

I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.

Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider

a shining spider web by Selador

Needling by LaughingFreak

How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05

My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:

The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.

Arachnomaly by @songue85

The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.

All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:

Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone

Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana

Read the initial notes first.

Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy

This Was Home by @emmacortana

The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics

and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913

What happens in New York by @violent138

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo

One Dead Spider by Miellonek

If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.

#dc #marvel #dc x marvel #fic rec #spiderman #spider man #peter parker #ao3

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firsttimewriter92 · 8 months

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Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Description: You´ve just moved in a couple of weeks ago, trying for a new start. A brief encounter with your neighbor gets your endorphins and imagination going. What is it about the mask?

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, a little pining

Word count: 1.917

A/N: Hi everyone <3 This is my very first Simon Riley x reader fic. I´ve written about several characters of CoD but Ghost was always kind of an enigma to me. I never knew how to make him the love interest. But and idea popped into my head after reading some characterization that made it much easier to write for him. So here you go :) Let me know if a part 2 is something you´d be interested in.

“Jesus fucking Christ” you swore as you tried your best to push your heavy apartment door open and balance your bag and groceries through the door. It was a struggle to say the least, but you were damned if you did second trips. Grumbling through your teeth you saw no other possibility than setting down your bag, holding the door open with your foot and grabbing your groceries a little more securely. Bending your knee, you gave your door a forceful push and slid through into your small hallway. Foregoing taking off your shoes you made your way into your open kitchen and set the heavy paper bags down on your kitchen island.

A sigh escaped you and you took a moment just to stand in your kitchen and take in the chaos around you. Half emptied moving boxes were strewn all around your living room, amidst not yet hanging shelves, plastic plants and several DIY projects. Another sigh left your lungs with a huff. Moving and starting anew had seemed like your only option a couple of weeks ago but now you dreaded the silence. You wanted this, ___, you thought. It was your decision.

Your new job was everything you ever hoped for, and training turned out to be smooth sailing. You loved it, you loved your apartment, even though it was far from being finished yet. But still, what you´d left behind still lingered in the back of your brain all too clearly at times. Especially when your heavy door closed behind you every evening and there was nothing but you, your DIY projects, an occasional phone call with your parents and then silence. Silence to wallow in, rake your brain and memories. Memories not even a good Podcast or music were able to drown out.

You weren´t as close with your colleagues yet as to be invited out to the pub after work but that was to be expected. The chances were good though. Maybe just a couple of days more and you´d have at least some kind of social interaction. One step after the other, you reminded yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your own impatience with yourself was yet again trying to make you feel like you´d made a mistake by moving. A humorless laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. Calm down, you thought. This is your life, your pace. Relax.

A couple of minutes later your food was stored away, veggies and salmon steaming away and finally you sat down on your couch, glass of wine in hand and Netflix on your TV.

“Bloody hell” you cursed as a shot of adrenalin set your brain into overdrive. Your bag. You jumped off your couch and hurried over to the door. Swinging it open with a yank you initially thought someone had put out the lights in the corridor. All you saw was black and not a second later you collided with something solid.

Shaking your head, you realized three things. It was 7 o´clock on a warm day in July, so it couldn’t be dark out already. Your hallway had several windows and yes, the sun was still out. The black wall you just ran into turned out to be a massive chest.

Heat was ascending your neck as you took a small step back and lifted your head to look at the face this quite impressive physique belonged to. What the…?

Before you stood a man, several inches taller than you, frozen in place with his arm lifted as if he was just about to knock on your door. He looked down on you with impressive, hazel eyes. Honey blond, tousled hair adorned his head, falling slightly onto his forehead, wet tips clinging to his temples and a bead of sweat disappearing behind his ear. But that was about all you could make out.

Seeing people wearing a facemask had of course not been an unusual sight for the last three years but he wasn´t wearing one of those surgical ones. His nose, mouth and chin were covered in thick, black material, even spanning over his cheekbones and disappearing behind his ears. When your eyes caught his again you saw them narrowing just slightly and one blond eyebrow ticking upwards.

Something wriggly moved inside your belly.

The man slowly lowered his arm, simultaneously lifting the other slightly, holding out your bag.

“This yours?” a deep, calm voice broke through the silence and the wriggly something inside you spread out towards your chest, down your arms and into your fingertips. You swallowed, trying to gather your wits again.

“Uhm…yes. Yes, that´s mine. Forgot about it” you said with a nervous laugh as you took it from him. He hummed deep inside his chest in understanding. The sound only letting your eyes snap onto his again trying to decipher if the squinting was an annoyed one or an amused one.

Amused, as it turns out. He took a deep breath, the black material of his running shirt as you now realized it was, stretching across the expanse of his chest.

“You know, that´s how you get your identity stolen. Or at least your wallet.” Yeah, there was no question now, he was grinning behind his mask, his tone mildly rebuking but not at all belittling.

A small smirk of your own crawled onto your lips as you cocked out your hip and nodded your head.

“You´re absolutely right, Sir. I´ll cuff my bag to my wrist from now on so this inconvenience shall not occur to you a second time.” You want to be cocky, mister? Fine with me.

Your answer made him chuckle. It was short but genuine. One hand in his pocket he stepped back slightly and only now did you notice the heat that his body had emitted. With one last narrow of his eyes, making the edges crinkle ever so slightly he answered. “Not an inconvenience, Miss. Have a good evening.” He nodded once and walked away to your right.

“Y-you too” you cursed the way your words tumbled. To your surprise he halted in front of the door next to yours and your heart jumped into your throat as he took out his keys. Your eyes still fixed onto his side profile (you still couldn’t really make out any features), he gave you one last look before opening his door.

“And thank you” you rushed out.

He only lifted one hand to give you a small little wave that seemed way too juvenile for a man of his stature and closed his door.

Kind of shellshocked you turned around yourself and let your door fall shut behind you. Clutching onto your bag you didn’t even notice how long you were just standing in your hallway, trying to sort out the wriggling nerves. Who was that? Idiot. Your neighbor. Your neighbor that you´d never seen before. A man like him you´d remember seeing. There´d never been any noise from the apartment next to yours so you just thought it was either a very quiet tenant or one that only went there to sleep.

Sitting down on your couch again you stared at the wall behind your TV. He was behind that wall, doing…things. Existing. Why did that feel so exciting to you? Maybe it was just because that´d been your first real social interaction apart from talking to your colleagues?

Laughing incredulously at yourself you buried your burning face in your hands and giggled. No. No that wasn’t it and you knew it. It was stupid. So very stupid and weird and nerdy and…that damn mask!!

“Whhhyyyy…..?” you moaned grinning and rubbed your temples, finally letting all the pent up adrenalin and endorphins rush through your blood stream unstopped. What was it about men wearing those damn masks? Not being able to fully see their face. Having to find out what there was to them by just their actions.

The fist time you really thought you´d lost your mind was when you actually developed a burning crush on a literal tin can from the Star Wars universe. Oh yeah, sure. Give me a brooding, sarcastic, overworked loner with PTSD and give him a freaking child to protect. Watch him become a devoted, loving single parent. Of course! Yes, let me thirst after him. And did it stop there? Of course not. The pandemic hit and the lockdown had everyone in a chokehold.

The only chokehold you wanted to be in at the time however was one carried out by a video game character called Ghoul from “Call of Obligation”. Tatted up, burly, sharp, dutiful, loyal and fucking hot.

The only thing you were able to see of him? His eyes. Just his eyes and an occasional forearm here and there. Everything else covered in tactical gear and a scary facemask. God that character haunted your dreams almost every night. And now, you had his existing, breathing, heat emitting, real human equivalent living next to you. You felt your insides burn as another funny noise came from your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. Why was half a visible face or even less, so damn attractive to you?

“Shit must be some kind of kink” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your wine glass.

Why was he wearing that mask anyway? People weren´t obligated to wear one anymore. Was it some kind of training technique while running?

Anyhow, you appreciated the encounter. Your mood instantly better even though the both of you hadn’t talked much at all. He seemed witty. Cocky almost and you liked that.

Emptying your wine, you put the glass back in the dishwasher and walked over to your bathroom when you heard it. The shower in the next apartment was running. Immediately you halted all movement and tried to not even breath. The situation seemed so delicate, like thin glass ready to break. You stared at the wall when something else caught your ears.

No. Did you hear this right? Was he…?

You walked carefully over to your shower and stepped in. Trying not to care about how crazy you must look at this moment, you turned your head to the wall slightly, closed your eyes and listened as hard as you could. There it was.

Low, melodic and absolutely captivating. Over the sound of the water hitting the tile you heard your neighbor singing. Your forehead hit the tile and you breathed as quietly as possible, marveling in the baritone sweetness that could be heard through the wall. All too soon, about a minute later it was over. The water was shut off, the singing stopped.

As if in trance you got your nighttime routine going and a couple minutes later, slid into bed. Knowing where his bathroom was now, you were positive that his bedroom had to be next to yours as well. You tried to hear more, but nothing else penetrated the walls. It made you glad actually. If you would be able to hear him in his bedroom, sleep would turn out to be an impossibility to achieve.

This way, you closed your eyes, got comfortable and let your thoughts drift and wander. Not long after, you were dead asleep. Your dreams yet again haunted, but now, the usual scary mask of Ghoul was replaced with a solid black one and instead of clawing at a fully clothed head between your legs, your fingers tangled into soft honey blond curls.

_____________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

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teatreeoilll · 4 months

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𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You can call me Ri ⟡ please be nice ⟡ please MDNI with everything tagged as such ⟡ you can ask to be tagged in anything ⟡ please only follow if 18 + ⟡ DMs open ⟡ I tag spoilers as (show name) spoilers ⟡ I take fic reqs based on personal preferences, but I'll answer and let you know anyway ⟡ Fanfic requests: closed

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭:

Megumi Fushiguro X Reader - ViolinProdigy!Megumi (drabble) Yuta Okkotsu X Reader - Touch (drabble) Higuruma Hiromi - And Then You Didn't (MDNI) | Neighborly Dispute (MDNI) | Objection (MDNI)

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭:

Sein X Reader - Tender

Currently fixated on writing for JJK, but I do watch and might write for other animes; 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 - (or, the latest fixations I might write for) - Attack on Titan, Tokyo Revengers, Spy X Family, The Apothecary Diaries, Durarara, Bungou Stray Dogs, Chainsaw Man, Jigokuraku, Vinland Saga, Oshi no Ko, Sousou no Frieren, Blue Lock

#jujutsu kaisen X reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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fizzigigsimmer · 1 year

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Billy catches himself perving on the guy who runs down his block every morning. It's those floppy shorts. Billy’s not even a leg guy, but there's something so shapely about them. They leave the impression that they were flawlessly sculpted in clay. Here is youth and beauty as can only be imagined and never had- except there they are gliding by, holding up a nice handful of ass. Billy's not a creep so about the time his brain starts spitting poetry over a strangers ass is exactly the moment he decides to get on with his morning and leaves the window. But he starts taking his coffee by the window more often, just to see perfection run by, because it's not a bad way to start a morning all considered.

One day they communicate. The runner stops outside Billy’s window to take a drink from a plastic bottle and notices Billy standing there behind the glass. Gives a silent good morning in the form of a neighborly nod and an awkward wave. Billy raises his mug, all howdy neighbor. And as long legs carry that bouncing ass away he thinks, ‘fuck I need to hit that’. There are a few obstacles to this new goal of his. It's the 90s but these things still have to be approached carefully. He starts looking for signs, because it’s something to do. Would a gay man wear his sweatband like that?

The shorts get shorter. Tighter. Sometimes the runner will stop at the corner for a breather and a stretch. That little shit knows what he's doing. He's totally gay and asking for a spanking to boot. That’s a good day. Billy whistles on his way to work and doesn’t even get mad at the terrible drivers on his commute. But then the very next day something new happens. The runner isn’t alone. There’s a girl with him. Girlfriend? Wife? Fuck. They seem close. She's hanging on his arm and laughing her ass off. The fuck is her problem? Nobody is that funny.

Billy's mood has soured but it picks up when the runner meets his eye as they are passing his window. He gives Billy a shy wave before tugging his little friend along. People do have platonic friends of the opposite sex, Billy remembers. Movement catches his eye, and he has to lean a little to see further down the street but the girl is walking backward, a step or two behind her friend, waving her arms in the air. When she sees that she has Billy's attention she points at the runners back and makes the call me gesture with her other hand. And just in case Billy somehow failed to get the message she makes an enthusiastic thrusting motion. Billy nearly chokes on his coffee. Right. Not his girlfriend then.

Now with part 2.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #short ficlet #😂 based on true events #my old roomie had a crush on one of our neighbors #it was a whole saga

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nexysworld · 1 year

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Guardian Angel 🖤 Part 1 🖤

Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Masterlist

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 4.1 | 4.2| 4.3

Summary: Leon was your regular friendly neighbor, always helping you out. He’s just a nice friendly guy. Simple as that… or so you thought. As his obsession with you increases you'll soon learn just what type of man your seemingly friendly neighbor truly is.

🖤Pairing: Yandere!Leon/Fem!Reader

🖤Tags (not all apply to all chapters): NSFW, Masturbation, Dubcon, Sex, Gaslighting, canon typical horror and gore descriptions, probably eventual kidnapping or kidnapping like behavior, use of pet names like bunny. Will add more tags as the story goes on

@hxllfiredoll Gave me Yandere!Leon brainrot, so here we go! I picture at least RE4R Leon in this. Let’s a gooooooo!

Leon had changed since the events of Raccoon City. He was no longer the bright eyed rookie cop who had the whole world ahead of him. Now he was in a much darker place, he’d seen the worst the world had to offer and he was not impressed. This world was no place for someone as perfect as you.

He felt like you were his flower trapped in a glass à la Beauty and the Beast, and without him there the glass would be removed by the world, each petal plucked from you until soon there’d be nothing left of his flower. You needed him obviously. What would you do without him?

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

You didn’t know much about Leon, he was your neighbor and kept to himself mostly. You knew he worked for the government, but didn’t know what that entailed. You knew he was beyond handsome, but awkward as hell, at least from what you observed. You remembered coming up the stairs to your shared apartment building and the girl from apartment 202 had cornered him. Despite her best efforts and subtly hitting on him, she was met with a solid, “ok.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone escape behind a door faster than watching his honey blonde hair bounce with the speed of his movements. The next time you saw him you ran straight into him because you weren’t paying attention, dropping all of your grocery bags.. “Oh god I’m so sorry.” You said, reeling from how knocking into him was like hitting a wall with how built he was. “Hey, it's ok, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” He said. “Here let me help you with that.” Effortlessly he managed to pick up all of your bags and carry them to your apartment for you. “Thanks Leon.” “Don’t worry about it.” He gave you a quick smile before leaving. Really you thought Leon was just a naturally caring guy. I mean not all guys who are ridiculously good looking are assholes, right? That’s just a stereotype, and Leon would prove that to you often. It seemed like Leon was always somehow there to help you, with friendly neighborly gestures. Out of sugar? Sure you can borrow his. Laptop not working? Don’t worry he’s good with electronics. Furniture needs moving? Well it’s a good thing he’s strong. Really Leon was one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met. He just exudes a sense of friendly trustworthiness that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was his soothing voice, or those steely blue eyes that you tried not to get lost in when you’d speak with him. Sometimes you’d find yourself inventing problems in order to speak with him and ask for help. You chalked it up to a little crush, nothing more than that. You wouldn’t allow it to be so, you had a boyfriend already, plans for the future. You weren’t the type of girl who’d throw that all away for some hot guy. Besides, Leon didn’t like you like that anyway, if he did you're sure you would know. He’s just a nice friendly guy. Simple as that.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

Leon thought about you a lot. When you’d leave he’d work his brain to remember the lingering scent of your floral perfume, the way you shyly tucked your hair out of your face when you talked with him. Most importantly that adorably sweet voice that ran like honey through his ears. He couldn’t believe such a little bunny like you lived right next to him. So sweet. So cute. So needy. Always knocking on his door for one thing or another. Under normal circumstances he would find himself irritated with the outside intrusion. When Leon wasn’t at work he liked to disassociate from life, what else was the point? Fight the bad guys. Go home. More pop up. Repeat. The world wasn’t kind, it wasn't fair. There was no point in anything else. But then you moved in. The girl next door. You became the point, the pinnacle of his future. His salvation. His new purpose.

Slowly Leon began to notice that you needed his help more than you even realized. How did you even survive before meeting him? He began to follow you home from work, just to make sure you were safe of course. You were just a little hazard to yourself honestly. You didn’t look both ways before crossing the empty roads. You kept your social security card in your purse (don’t ask how he knows that.) You were too much of a people pleaser to avoid the strangers who’d stop to talk to you. Too dumb to know better than to wear such short little skirts out in public.

Even worse was your home defense, I mean it took almost nothing for Leon to get into your apartment while you were away, and you certainly didn’t notice the little changes he made. Like the tiny cameras seated within your potted plants, the eye of the teddy bear you kept on your nightstand. You left your laptop open right on the kitchen counter! He didn’t even need to use his government equipment to get into your stuff. One hour of his time and all of a sudden all your texts and emails were popping up on his own secondary phone, your social media, everything.

Stupid, stupid little bunny. The only thing worse than your ability to protect yourself was that hoity-toity upperclass hipster you called a boyfriend. Leon simply couldn’t fathom how some saucy fuck boy like that could work his way into your pure heart. He’d spent hours going through all your DM’s and texts with this man. He simply could not see the appeal. He treated you like you were too stupid to understand his profound pretentious thoughts and opinions. You were too good for scum like him. You needed a real man, you deserved a real man.

Luckily for you, Leon was a real man. And now he found his new purpose in life was to keep you safe, keep your petals attached. You were so lucky Leon found you, he was going to give you everything you’d ever need. You’d never have to worry or think again.

Leon had intended to do things the right way too, take things slowly. Really he did. He didn’t want you afraid of him, no he was going to be your prince, your knight in shining armor. He spent countless nights thinking of all the ways he could rid your boyfriend from existence so he could slip inside your heart and clean up the mess that was left.

He thought of your gorgeous face, the cute little blushes you try to hide when you’re around him, how red your face would be if he finally took the plunge and asked you out. Or maybe he’d be more dramatic, going directly in for a kiss, running his tongue over your bottom lip, teasing you. Oh how precious his little bunny was.

Despite it taking every ounce of self control, Leon was determined to take things slowly, well he was trying anyway, you weren’t making this very easy, especially with the noises he was hearing from his computer. He lifted the laptop up so he could set it on the nightstand next to him. He clicked on the thumbnail of your room to blow up the image, and there you were splayed out putting on a show just for him - not that you knew that of course.

There you were in all your glory, back arched into the mattress as you worked the toy in and out of your sopping hole with one hand while the other danced around your clit at a steady pace. Your face was flushed, lip bitten and eyes closed as you generated your pleasure. You looked so serene and ethereal, like a goddess of pleasure that he could worship. Leon felt his cock harden in his boxers, he pulled himself out and lazily stroked himself while he watched you. This was nothing new, something he’d done many times…that was until he heard your voice. “Nnng Leon…” He blinked at the screen for a moment, frozen as you softly chanted his name like a prayer. That, that was new. He knew you liked him, but he’d never seen you get off to him before. You were always such a good little girl, devoted to your future ex-boyfriend. The sound caught him so off guard he almost finished by your voice alone. He released his cock from his hand so he could grab the pair of panties of yours he kept in his nightstand, he wrapped them around his cock and continued to jerk himself while he watched you, jerking himself in rhythm with the way you toyed with yourself. He sped up when it looked like you were close, aiming to finish when you did. The second you let out a final scream of his name he felt the pleasure burst from his cock as hot ropes of cum spilled onto the laptop screen and his leg. “Don’t worry baby.” He said to the screen. “I won’t make you wait much longer for the real thing. My sweet little bunny shouldn’t have to work so hard to feel good.”

With that little scene before him, his resolve crumbled. Clearly going slow was a mistake, you needed him so badly in more ways than one. He was going to show you just how safe you are with him, how good he’ll be able to make you feel.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

“Hey Derek, are you okay?” You asked as your boyfriend doubled over in the middle of the alleyway. “Yeah, just drank too much I think.” He said as the rest of his dinner came up along with what looked like blood. Under the dim lamplight you noticed that his skin was shining with sweat and there were spiderwebs of veins that looked pure black as they creeped along his skin. “D-derek…I really think we should get you to a hospital.” You said worriedly, putting your hand on his back. He spun around in a fury. “Don’t fucking touch me, I said I’m fine!” His eyes were a deep red and almost looked like they were glowing in the night. You backed away a few steps nervously. This was like a scene from a horror movie, surely it wasn’t real right? Maybe it was a prank? You gently reached out with a shaky arm to him. “H-hey, it’s gonna be alright.” He grabbed your wrist and yanked you harder than you thought possible before slamming you against the brick wall of the alley. He snarled in a way you’d never seen a human do before. “Stop, this isn’t funny.” You pleaded with him, but they fell on deaf ears. Desperately you fished around in your pocket until you found the pocket knife you kept in there. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll have to use it.” You threatened as your hand shook with tremors. The black veins had reached all over his face now, he snarled again leaning in with an open mouth indicating his intention to bite the flesh from your skin. In a scared panic you jammed the knife directly into his neck, he dropped to the ground and you ran to the end of the alley, tears welling in your eyes.

You stood staring at his body as it layed there on the ground twitching. You fished for your phone to call 911, but remembered you had forgotten it at home before your date. Fuck. You thought to yourself as you tried to ponder your next steps. Your thoughts were cut short though when you heard a disgusting sound, like flesh being torn apart, bones breaking. You looked over and saw something beginning to protrude from his face and neck. Worms? Tentacles? You weren’t sure. Surely you must be hallucinating right now, having a psychotic break. There was no other explanation for this.

You took one step forward, then another, and another until you were back in front of his body. Within seconds your face was splattered with blood as whatever it was bursted out entirely from his neck. You could see all the deformed features of his face while they danced in a mix of tentacles that were waving before you. You felt sick. You felt frozen. A gunshot rang out, and your boyfriend’s body slumped back to the ground, tentacles and all. The world became dizzy, the alley turning upside down, a voice you couldn’t make out. Someone stood over you, but you couldn’t see who as your head rattled. The next thing you knew you were out, slipping into the black void of unconsciousness.

~♡��♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

Leon had worked out the fastest plan to get rid of your future ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t hard for him to get a sample of the Plagas virus that the lab had been storing and it was even less difficult to inject it into the man. Of course the cleanup was a bit of a pain, blaming a DSO researcher who lived nearby, framing it on them. But when you want something done right, you gotta put a little effort in, ya know? Anything for his little bunny. Leon kept a close eye on you, closer than usual. His goal was only to frighten his little rabbit, not let her get killed or hurt more than was required. He saw the virus taking effect instantly, and noticed the odd ticks that would occur during your dinner date. Your own future ex-boyfriend and you didn’t even notice a change in his behavior until it became so obvious. He trailed you to the alleyway, hiding behind the dumpster as the scene played out. It hurt him to see you so scared. Truly it did, but you needed this. He couldn’t believe you actually walked back over to the body. See little bunny? That’s exactly why you needed Leon. The second Derek’s corpse was back on his feet, Leon drew his gun before sending a single, and final, lethal shot sending the Plagas back to the ground. He walked forward and caught you just as your body went slack. “Don’t worry sweetheart. I got you.” He said tossing you over his shoulder and into his car. His timing was perfect. He’d arrived back at the apartments just in time for the outside lights to be turned off both in the parking garage and external hallways. Carrying you to your apartment without being seen was a cakewalk. You made it even easier by staying unconscious the whole time Leon washed you up and tucked you into bed. He made sure to hide all evidence of your bloodied clothes, and of your now dead ex-boyfriend. Of course the DSO wouldn’t want the public to know that any kind of outbreak occurred, no matter how small, which meant that Derek had to disappear entirely. The government would take care of his family and friends, but you, you were all Leon’s to handle. He was nothing if not thorough to be sure, deleting any social media post, text, call log, anything at all that involved the man you once knew. Before he left your apartment, he leaned over and placed a small kiss on your forehead before slipping back over to his own apartment before the crack of dawn. Leon waited patiently for hours. Excruciating hours while you remained in your unconscious state. He knew you were about to wake though when he saw your face scrunch up on the camera, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

You shot up in a panic. “Derek? Derek!” You shouted as your head pounded, your heart beat was so loud it resounded in your ears. You were more confused when your bedroom came into view and someone was sitting on the end of your bed. . . Leon? “What the —” “Hey sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said softly, moving towards you arm out like he was approaching a scared animal. “I heard you screaming and you didn’t answer the door so I let myself in just to make sure you were okay.” It took a few moments to process his words before you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh god, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I was just having a bad dream.” “Sounds like it.” He said softly, and there they were those endless blue eyes, instantly instilling comfort in you. “You sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I just…it was a nightmare that Derek died and…” She shuddered again. “Derek? Who’s that?” Leon asked, tilting his head. “A family member?” You gave him a confused look. Leon knew who your boyfriend was, they’d even met in passing once when he dropped you off at home. “No, Derek, you know him, my boyfriend?” “Derek? I don’t know anyone by that name, I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.” He said with a soft laugh. Your eyebrows knitted together in a v-shape, more confused than ever. Maybe Leon just forgot? Maybe he was just joking with you? You reached over and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You thought maybe giving him a call would help ease your mind, and maybe showcase to Leon you did in fact have a boyfriend. You swiped through your messages but didn’t see the text thread. You tried your snapchat, nothing. Instagram DMs, nothing. None of your threads or his accounts showed up at all. “What the fuck.” You said to yourself, hands beginning to tremble. “Is everything okay?” Leon asked softly. “Yeah I just…” You furiously swiped through your contacts and Derek wasn’t there. You tried calling his number. “Sorry the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or no longer in service.” Something felt very wrong. You launched out of bed to your closet and dug through your old shoe boxes like a madwoman, ripping the lid off to dig through your polaroids that you had. Every single one with Derek, gone. You turned to face Leon, new tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck is going on.” You asked mostly to yourself. Leon walked over to you and ran a thumb over your cheek soothingly. “Hey, hey, calm down. Calm down. What’s wrong?” He asked softly. “What do you mean what’s wrong? Derek’s gone, everything is gone!? I was with him in the street and he died and now…now he’s just gone the pictures are gone…” You weren’t making a lot of sense trying to explain to Leon what you were talking about. Were you having a psychotic break? No way, the memories you had were real, how can you just imagine a decade of memories!?

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

His plan was working. Not even moments after you woke up you were already connecting your thoughts and memories to a person who no longer existed. He knew the more you pushed about this, the more lost you’d become. He wasn’t usually one for gaslighting, but he’d use any tool at his disposal for you. Don’t worry little bunny, the pain wouldn’t last long. Leon was here for you. He walked over and wrapped his strong arms around you in the tightest hug he could give you. He shushed you and rubbed your back while you sobbed. “Hey, hey it’ll be okay. It will be okay, why don’t we get you back to bed.”

He led you back to the mattress, running his fingers through your hair while you laid down. “Shhhh. Shhh.” He cooed, tucking you in tightly. When he turned to leave your arm shot out to his. “W-wait. If you don’t mind, can you stay the night? I just.. Something feels wrong. I don't want to be alone.” Of course he would stay the night with you. He nodded and sunk down on the bed next to you, above the blanket, not wanting to push his affections too far just yet. He played with your hair while you fell asleep again. Don’t worry little bunny, you were safe with him. You’ll always be safe with him.

#leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #Female reader #resident evil #fanfiction #reader insert #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #yandere! leon kennedy #re4r #re4r leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil 4

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kitthepurplepotato · 5 months

Text

Chapter 5 - Never enough

Summary: Y/N goes out with Kyouka for a flat hunt. Izuku gets smacked in the face - Once by a random teen and once by his Sweet Pea.

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of a toxic relationship (in the past).

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kyouka comes over a few hours after Izuku leaves; he didn’t really say goodbye after your conversation in the bedroom this morning, which was quite surprising and he also left an untouched sandwich on the table, filled with his favorite stuff, which is also… well… really fucking weird, but okay. To be fair, there is so much happening all at once it’s easy to go all silly, especially at 5 AM in the morning. Maybe it took him so long to make his sandwich he ended up being late and instead of bringing it with him he just left it on the table. Even though, Izuku must be aware that he owns a cat so leaving food on the table isn’t the smartest idea. Thankfully, All Meowt is the laziest motherfucker the word has ever seen and jumping on the table to get some nibbles is way too much of a lbother for him, hence why the food is still in tact.

Sometimes you wonder if All Meowt is even a cat; he doesn’t scratch furniture, doesn’t eat anything he needs to work for, barely jumps on anything and he’s just… a part of the furniture. A furry little sofa pillow. He’s also really smart as somehow he knew you are the one who messed with his automatic feeder because to this day, he didn’t even approach you once when Izuku wasn’t around. Except when you sleep. Then he cuddles. He probably hopes you stay that way forever.

“Okay, I managed to get a viewing for flat 2 and flat 4.” Kyouka mumbles to herself after putting her phone down. You look at the girl incredulously. “Don’t look at me like that, I know flat 4 is pricy as fudge, but with my current salary, I can afford it. I won’t have a bunch to spend for a few months but if I make it to the top 10 next year, it won’t be a problem!”

You know Kyouka like you know the back of your hand; there is no reason to even look at flat 2 at this point, this silly woman has already decided to get that fancy ass flat and there is probably an extremely ridiculous reason behind it.

“Be honest with me…” You look at your bestie, trying your best not to look judgmental. “Why do you want that flat?”

Kyouka looks down at her hands, her cheeks ruddy from embarassment. “My favorite rockstar lives in the same building… you know the one with black hair and the sick angel wing tattoo.” Kyouka answers while she plays with her bangs like a stupid school girl.

There it is. There it fucking is.

“So you decided to spend all your life savings for a few minutes of neighborly banter with your Bae.” You really can’t believe this silly woman.

“Oh my god, you are literally dating your favorite hero, sorry if your stupid love story made me believe in fated love!” She yells and you can’t help but laugh at that.

“Hey, it didn’t cost me anything to fall in love with him though! Plus we are not official yet!” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed.

“Oh fuck off, Izuku wouldn’t even poke you with a foot long pole if he wouldn’t want you to be his fucking wife in the next few years. My bro isn’t playing around. He’s had enough of that shit when he was young.”

Well, that’s a new information.

“What do you mean?”

Kyouka sighs.

“It’s not my place you tell you this and to be honest I don’t know too much about it, Katsuki is probably the best one to ask but… there was this girl, right after high school who was all over Izuku after his first debut. We told him to stay away from her, we warned him that she’s only after the fame and the money but Izuku was so happy to be liked by someone in a romantic way he didn’t fucking listen to any of us…” Kyouka’s eyes look really sad as she continues. “Izuku was always a sweet boy so most people only thought of him just as that; a boy, not a man. This girl was different, I give her that. I fucking hated her. We all did. Except Izuku.” You really don’t like where this story is going. You can feel the betrayal in the air, it makes your stomach upset and your heart bleed. “After a few weeks Izuku couldn’t even wear his own clothes. She started to point out every geeky thing on him, the shirts, the shoes, his hair… she wanted him to change into something he wasn’t. She even made a comment about his baby fat. Katsuki almost exploded her that day and Izuku stopped bringing her over after that. Things got worse after as Katsuki wasn’t there to reprimand her. I don’t want to say more, Y/N. Ask him. It’s not my story to tell.”

You are rendered speechless. There are so many emotions swirling inside you; fury, hatred, sadness, then there is the urge to protect, the urge to call Izuku home so you can tell him how much you love him and his quirkiness… it’s so much to take in, so much to think about…

“Let’s go before we both start crying.” Kyouka ruffles your hair and motions towards the door, ready for the adventure.

You try your best to keep your focus on the beautiful flats. You look around for flaws, ask the right questions but you are not really there; your mind can only think of Izuku, about how alone he must’ve felt while dating that terrible human being, how humiliated he had to feel around his friends in those clothes he was forced to wear… fuck.

“I’ll walk you home then I’ll come back to do the paperwork.”

She doesn’t need to say any more for you to know that all your thoughts are written on your face.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry! You helped a lot. Really.” Kyouka smiles. You are so lucky to have her.

~•🥦•~

Izuku is not with it at work. He makes a lot of mistakes and he gets punched by some “random extra” who shouldn’t even be able to touch him.

There was a group of teens making a ruckus downtown. Izuku and Katsuki were out on patrol when they saw them yelling at a poor old man, asking for money but somehow Izuku managed to get hit by one of the kids while he was too distracted with his own thoughts.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Deku!” Katsuki yells at him with a red face. “You just let that fucking extra have the time of his fucking life! Hitting the number one fucking hero in the face! He probably thinks he’s the coolest fucking dude right now and has zero motherfucking remorse about what he’s done!”

“Because you were any better, you burned that kids face! Do you want to get canceled?!”

Izuku is frustrated. He can’t do this anymore. He can’t just let Katsuki step over him like that, not anymore…

“Someone had to do something about it! I had to clean your fucking mess up because that’s what friends do, you absolute fucking moron!”

“Since when do you consider me as a friend? I thought I’m just a nuisance.”

“Stop with the attitude. I know what you are doing and it’s not going to work. You won’t push me away. Don’t make the same mistakes I’ve made when I was a kid. You know it more than anyone how much it fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry, Kacchan.” He can’t take it anymore. The tears fall, his body shakes and moves towards Katsuki on his own and Katsuki catches him just in time.

“If you want to talk, I’m here. Eijirou is here too. You are not alone anymore.” Katsuki mutters into his hair, his fingers deep in Izuku’s curls. Katsuki has changed so much in the last few years; if anyone would’ve told him he’s gonna be cuddled by Katsuki while he cries for the stupidest fucking reason he would’ve laughed in their face.

He knows he’s being an idiot. Y/N loves him, he can see it in her eyes when he comes back after a long day of work, he can feel it in her touches, in the food she makes, in the way she smiles when Izuku cuddles her from behind… he also knows his Sweet Pea loves him the way he is and he has no reason to doubt himself with her but Izuku can’t do anything with his insecurities; he’s been told so many times how weird he is, how unattractive his home wear is, how his unruly hair makes him look like a child and he doesn’t even want to start talking about his “annoying” clinginess.

Maybe he should’ve told her to finish that commission instead of asking her to go to bed with him. Maybe he should’ve let her cook the food alone or ask her if she needs help instead of clinging to her back like an oversized koala. Maybe he should’ve slept on his own side of the bed instead of suffocating his Sweet Pea with his heavy arms. He went overboard. Even his perfect Sweet Pea needs some space. Maybe that’s why she wants to move out. She loves Izuku but Izuku is too much as a boyfriend… he’s too much, he’s always too much…

“Go home, Zuku.” Katsuki sighs into his hair. “Go home and sort yourself out. I fucking hate seeing you like this. I want to blow your face up.”

Izuku can’t help but snort at that.

“I love you too, Kacchan.”

“Fuck you.”

~•🥦•~

You get home around 2PM; you managed to find some All Might shaped chicken nuggets in the store which you decided to air fry today with some lovely fresh veggies you found in the little market you love. Oh, and rice. Izuku needs more than a snack when he comes home.

Thankfully you manage to finish cooking by 3 so you decide to sit down and finally start working on your commissions; there isn’t much to do, just a few sketches, so you should be done by the time Izuku gets home. Thank god no one commissioned anything detailed, otherwise you would be fucked; there is no way you can do a full, colored drawing in this mental state.

For your surprise the door opens around 4PM; Izuku is already in his civilian clothes, freshly showered, hair still a bit wet.

There is one thing you realize now that Kyouka told you about his past; Izuku’s civilian clothes are quite plain compared to his usual style. It doesn’t sit right with you but that’s a problem for another day.

Today’s problem is…

“You are really early, did you forget something? Want to eat before you go back? I made you something special!” You jump off the chair right away. Izuku looks at you like this is the last time he sees your face; you have no idea what’s going on but you really hate that look on his face, that’s for sure. “Oh my god, please tell me this is not that part of the fanfiction when the hero comes home and tells his wife that he’s going a year long mission to America. I’m not ready for that yet.”

For some reason, Izuku looks guilty. He lowers his eyes, suddenly finding the design of the floor extremely interesting as he fiddles with the sleeve of his jacket anxiously.

“Just a short day, nothing to worry about.” Izuku smiles but it’s fake. So fucking fake it makes you want to gag. “Were you doing a commission? Don’t worry about me, I’m not even supposed to be here, so just ignore me.”

Red flag. A big, fucking red flag. Something happened and Izuku is not telling you jack shit about it.

“Izu, what the fuck, I’ve been waiting to have a few hours with you for a whole week, I can’t just ignore you. With the amount of hours you work I have all the time to finish this fucking scribble, but I only have a few hours with you.” You reprimand, a little bit offended. Just a little bit. Teeny-tiny bit. “You also left without giving me a kiss. You need to give me double kisses today. Also, look at the food I made for you!” You run into the kitchen and come out with the All Might shaped chicken nuggets. You show them off proudly, jumping up and down with the excitement. “Look! It’s All Might! And chicken! I put the magnet that came with it on the fridge, I hope that’s fine! There are 10 different magnets to collect, I’ll try to get them all!”

Suddenly, a loud sob escapes Izuku’s mouth, but it’s not his usual ‘I’m so happy so I’ll cry a river’ kinda sob, it’s the one full of pain and misery. “Izu.” You put the food down on the table to approach the shaking man now sitting on the floor. “I’m sorry do you not want to eat All Might? That’s okay, Izu!” You mutter but Izuku jumps into your words.

“Y/N, stop.” The sound of your own name sounds so foreign from Izuku’s mouth you almost choke on your words. “Stop. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much, I can’t…” Izuku starts to sob again and you are not too far behind him. Without knowing, your tears start to fall, joining Izuku’s in the puddle of misery on the floor.

“What’s wrong, baby? Please, tell me what did I do wrong. I won’t do it ever again, I swear…”

“I know you want to move out. You don’t need to pretend.” Izuku jumps into your words between two loud sobs. “I know I’m impossible to live with, I know my love is toxic, it’s too much too soon, I’m… aware of it and I can change, I can give you space, fuck, I can sleep in the agency if you want me to, I don’t care, but please, don’t leave me. I can change, I can do anything…”

Instead of words you decide to use your hand to tell him how fucking annoyed you are. Because honest to fuck you thought someone died or Izuku is dying or the world is on fire and these are his last words… the sound of the slap is loud in the quiet room but it makes Izuku listen and hopefully he’ll forgive you when this is over.

“I don’t want you to change, you dumb little… waaah!” Great job, Y/N. You are doing fucking well. You slapped the poor sobbing guy then you called him dumb. Great start indeed. “I fucking love you and your nerdy little ass, I love the way you geek out over the stupidest thing, I love how we are glued to each other when you’re home because that’s what I also want to do, thank you for fucking asking, I love those super silly t-shirts you’re hiding at the back of your drawer and I can’t believe you never wear them by the way, I’m not leaving you, I’m not going anywhere, I want to be here, with you, every single second, I can’t believe you really thought you could get rid of me that easily, Midoriya Izuku!” You have no air left by the time you finish your sentence because you forgot to breathe during your rant. “Don’t you fucking dare to change for me. I fell in love with YOU, not with some impostor. Tell me what you want. Do what you want. Act as silly as you want. I’ll probably only love you more, even though it’s quite impossible.”

The silence is deafening. You can see Izuku’s brain going into overdrive. He looks completely lost.

“The notes on the table…” He mutters as he motions towards the notebook. He looks dumbfounded.

“Kyouka is looking for a new flat. I was helping her.”

“I’m an idiot.” Izuku mumbles, mortified. He even forgets to cry.

“Yeah, you are. My idiot boyfriend who I love so dearly.” The words slip out but it’s too late to take it back; you look at Izuku with a terrified look on your face, ready to be reprimanded but Izuku looks at you with nothing but wonder, eyes shining from tears and finally, from happiness.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.” Izuku’s hand reaches towards you. Needless to say, you take it.

“My weird boyfriend, Midoriya Izuku.” You giggle to yourself. If this would be a fanfiction… ahh, Nevermind.

“I love you, Sweet Pea. Please, never change.” Izuku is all over you, not even caring about the floor being the most uncomfortable surface in the whole entire building. You can’t really hold yourself up with such a heavy weight sitting on your shoulders so you both end up stumbling backwards with a loud yelp followed by a bunch of giggling.

“So what does my boyfriend want to do today?” You mutter into Izuku’s neck between two kisses.

“I want to watch an All Might movie in my silly All Might onesie I’m hiding in my dresser while I eat the silly little all might chicken nuggets my perfect girlfriend made for me.”

Your smile is so big it actually hurts your jaw.

“… Only if I can borrow a silly All Might shirt to match with you.”

Apparently, that was the right thing to say; Izuku is about to combust from the happiness as he attacks your mouth with violent happy kisses.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” He mutters into your lips, already knowing your answer.

“Only a few thousand times but it never gets old.”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” He smirks with such confidence it makes you shiver. You did that. You made him feel that way. Oh fuck, this new Midoriya Izuku is really bad for your heart.

“Might as well be.” You grab Izuku’s hair at the back of his head and yank him forward for a heated, deep kiss. Izuku yelps but he doesn’t let you have all the control; this is Izuku’s day, he’s is completely unhinged and so are you.

The food got cold by the time you managed to untangle from each other.

And fuck, it was so worth it.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Some explanations for the this chapter because I feel like it’s needed:

- 1. Midoriya does wear merch, but mostly black ones with a logo on it instead of the super loud, super colorful ones he would prefer.

- 2. Midoriya’s mum said in one of the chapters that Midoriya has never had a girl over before which is still true; the girl was never officially introduced to Inko as Izuku knew the way the girl was treating him would make his mom really sad. Inko has a slight idea about what happened thanks to Katsuki but she was spared from the gruesome details of it. Izuku doesn’t know his mom knows about it.

- 3. No, they didn’t do anything cheeky on the floor. They were just kissing, you dirty little potato.

- In the next chapter, we are going home to Izuku’s mom! I’m so excited!!!!

- I got a beautiful Deku figurine. I try not to talk about my figurine obsession anymore but I have to show this one off. I genuinely didn’t think I’ll be able to get my hands on this one because it’s an Ichiban Kuji (it’s like a lottery but with anime merch) Last One prize, but here I am, I guess. 😂

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #Deku x reader #pro hero deku x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya izuku x y/n #midoriya fluff #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader

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wardenparker · 10 months

Text

In the Heights, part 1

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Cursing. Alcohol/food consumption, single dad Max, mention of divorce and unhappy marriage, probably inaccurate portrayal of being a high school student in the 60s, yearning, mutual pining, friends to lovers, the love is requited they're just idiots, the one that got away, high school crush, poor communication, mistaken sexuality assumptions, people being skeptical about Max, reader is full of sunshine, tipsy behaviours. Summary: A long time ago in a life that seems completely forgotten, you had a crush on your classmate Max Lorenzano. The world has changed a lot since then - but when you discover that your old friend is your new neighbor, it seems like some things have stayed the same after all. (This story contains flashbacks.) Notes: Part 1 of 2! I won't lie to you, guys. I love Max Lord. I love him in a way that is probably not healthy at all, so Keri has once again humored me and allowed for a little One That Got Away story with this sad puppy of a man. Also, I apologize for any errors I may have missed in editing. Cold medicine and being sleepy is a bad combo.

The sight of a moving truck isn't odd in any part of New York City. People come and go from these buildings so quickly that some people never bother to get to know their neighbors at all. The only reason you'd really noticed the one this morning was because it was out front when you were leaving for work and causing a little bit of a commotion with traffic. You'd skirted it and strode across the street to grab your usual cup of coffee and bagel with cream cheese from the bodega across the street before hitting the subway. Midtown doesn't seem far when you get to just sit and read during your commute, and you've never minded. But you tuck away the information about having a new neighbor and consider baking a batch of welcome cookies for them when you get home from the office tonight - it seems like the neighborly thing to do. You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl.

******

Max sighs as he hauls the last box up the stairs. Alistair has already started unpacking his room, and thank God he managed to pay the moving company to at least get the large items upstairs to the third floor wall up, but then the rest of the boxes had been left on the curb when they had figured out where they knew him from. He’s just lucky they didn’t take what he had with them, but it was again a reminder of how he had fucked up. New York is supposed to be a fresh start, a new beginning, but he doesn’t know if that’s possible for him.

The positive of someplace busy like New York was supposed to be that people would ignore or look past him. They always say New Yorkers are too busy to bother with their neighbors, and that’s something he wanted this time. To just blend into the background if he could so that Alistair could have a fighting chance and not be despised because of what he had done. Alistair, for the most part, remains as optimistic and sweet as ever. He knows that people are upset with his Daddy but his love never wavers. It’s enough to push him through the bad days, thank god, and to remind him that he’s doing this for a good reason. Starting over is for his son. He will find a way - any way - to make this work.

Things are different than D.C., the energy is different. He’s reminded of the days that he was in school, hopeful for the future. Max Lorenzano was teased and bullied in school, made fun of because of his poverty, his weird foods that he ate, the holes in his shoes, and his proclivity for learning. It had been his first life lessons, but the bullying in school was better than the beatings at home. Unsure of why he is thinking about those things, he takes the first load of boxes to the trash chute.

****

It’s sometime after dinner that the batch of chocolate chip cookies you put together are finally cool enough and ready to pack up. Stacking them neatly on a plate, wrapping it in cling film, and tying it up with ribbon, you head across the hall to meet the folks that just moved into Mrs. Cristian’s old place. An empty box marked Toys in the trash chute had clued you in to a child being present, so cookies seems even more appropriate now.

Even though Max is a miserable cook, he’s unpacking the kitchen when he hears the knock at the door. Frowning slightly, he wonders if the pizza he had ordered has already gotten here. He had assumed that it would take longer than fifteen minutes. “Coming!” He dusts his hands on his jeans and walks towards the door. Opening it up as he reaches for his wallet.

“Hi neighbor!” The words - bright and sunny - are out of your mouth before you even look up, having gotten distracted by the Torres’ cat in the hallway. But the second you do, your eyes go wide. “Max?” There’s no questioning it. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him all over the news or that you didn’t remember what had happened. Everyone remembered. Just…most of the billions of people in the world hadn’t known Max Lord since he was Max Lorenzano in Lubbock, Texas.

Instantly on guard, he’s halfway expecting to be attacked, or cussed out. That was the reaction of the majority of people who recognized him. He needed to dye his hair back to his natural brown. When the diatribe doesn’t come, he frowns and takes a closer look at the pretty woman in front of him for a moment before his eyes widen and your name comes off as a whisper like a ghost from his past

****

“Hey Lame-zano!” Max hunches over his books and speeds up, trying to ignore the boys behind him. Knowing that it would do no good to turn around and confront them. It would just speed up the beat down he knows is coming. “Hey weirdo! Fuckin’ stop!”

The boys don’t stop hollering as Max speeds up. They never do. Torture is the specialty of high school jocks, or at least these particular ones, and Max is their favourite target. “Max!” His name is hisses from somewhere off to the side, and an arm shoots out to pull him out of the hallway like he’s a bad Vaudeville comedian. He’s almost yanked off his feet, but for the girl he crashes into in the disused classroom. You hush him immediately, hand over his mouth, and quickly shut the door so the scions of the football team won’t see where he’s disappeared too. “Quiet.” You warn, carefully peaking through the window to make sure they walk by.

He crouches down, grateful that you had pulled him out of the line of fire, face burning in shame at the same time. To be rescued by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen seems to be his luck, knowing you are completely aware of his lack of masculinity. “Thanks.” He murmurs quietly.

“They’re shitheads.” You mutter, shaking your head as the group of boys howls on their way by. “Absolute shitheads.” There’s no real reason for any of the other kids to be so mean to Max, but logic never stopped cruel people from being cruel. Max is different so they’re mean. It’s as simple as that.

“They are still better than I am.” He huffs, terrified they will find him and humiliate him in front of you. It’s a dirty feeling, to know that you are going to be here to witness his utter ruination.

“How?” That doesn’t make any sense to you, and your brow furrows at him as you lean back against the door. You’ll give it another minute or two before you both go out there. Maybe the trio will move on to another target for a while. Sometimes that target is you, but you’d take it every time if it meant they would leave Max alone. “You mean they’re better at playing football than you? Who cares?”

“They are popular.” He reminds you. “Their parents are influential. People respect them.” Respect is what he craves, yearns for.

"They're bullies." And it stings, because one of those awful idiots out there is your own cousin. But because you have different last names, most people don't know. You want nothing to do with him and vice versa. "People don't respect them, they're either ass kissers or afraid." Shrugging slightly, you cross your arms over your chest, knowing that you don't exactly sound very ladylike at the moment. You could care less at the moment, though. You would only care if cussing offended Max.

“You don’t understand.” Max shakes his head and stares at you. “Why are you hiding from them? They don’t torment you.” He’s jealous of that, if he’s honest, but he’s also grateful that they don’t. Knowing that you are too good for that, for him to even talk to.

"Sure they do." It might not be as loud or as often, but they still pick on you. "Yesterday Lewis Sinclair practically pulled up my skirt in chemistry class because I answered too many questions correctly." You shake your head again, scowling this time. "They're all awful. You shouldn't listen to what they say."

“They are right, I am a loser.” Max snorts, standing up when they have passed by and don’t seem to be doubling back. “Everyone knows it.” He’s learned that he will have to reinvent himself, become someone people want to know. It’s how he will become important and successful.

"You're not." At least, you've never thought so. But maybe that doesn't count for much in his view of things. It's not like the boy you've had a quiet crush on since seventh grade has ever looked at you more than a few times - and even then it was to ask you for help in class. This might be the longest conversation you've ever had with him. "They're mean because you're different from them. That doesn't mean you're a loser."

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” He sighs and looks down at his feet. “Are you going home after this? I think we’ve missed the bus.” That means he will get home late to do his chores. Which means he will get yelled at if his father comes home early.

"We could walk?" Neither of you lives too far from the school despite most of the town being spread out to small farms or ranches, or even just decent-size patches of land. You know for a fact that the Lorenzanos live pretty close because you moved closer to them just last summer. The implosion of your family's happily little bubble wasn't public knowledge, thank goodness.

“Okay.” He bites his lip and wonders why you want to walk with him. If it’s some sort of trick. He nods and decides that walking with you is better than being alone. “Do you need anything from your locker?”

"Yeah." Nodding, you hold up the books in your arms. "I need to swap these and grab my jacket. It will only take a second, I promise." It shouldn't make you feel so warm and pleased that a boy - this boy - wants to walk home with you, but he's sweet. He's always been sweet. Ever since he moved here when you were kids. It was a shame when he came to school one day with no trace of his accent left, but it hadn't made him any less cute.

“Hopefully they won’t double back, so you can take your time.” He doesn’t want to rush you, even though every second counts. It’s the most he’s ever talked to you and he likes it. You are nice. It doesn’t hurt that he has been harboring a crush on you.

Opening the classroom door carefully, you poke your head into the hallway to see it mostly cleared and swallow a sigh. "I think they're gone," you murmur, reaching back to wave for him to follow you. "C'mon. We'll be on our way home in no time."

“Hopefully I beat my father home.” Max huffs as he follows you out of the classroom and both of you hustle down the hall.

"Will you be in trouble if you don't?" That idea bothers you, but not knowing anything about his father, you're not sure if it's realistic or not. He wouldn't be the first kid to get yelled at or even hit for not following a rule.

“It- it’s best if we hurry.” Max admits, biting his lip. “I don’t know if he planned to stop by the bar before coming home and he doesn’t like it when my chores are not done.”

"I can help." You promise instantly, tugging your locker open to exchange your books and shove them into your bag to go home. Your mother is still working and will be for hours. As long as you're home and have dinner ready for her when she gets there, she doesn't keep track of what else you do.

“You-“ he’s momentarily lost for words at your offer. No one has ever offered to help him. With anything. “You don’t have to do that.” He promises.

"It's okay." The smile you give him at the opportunity to be helpful and spend a little more time with him, is brilliant. "Come on, we should hightail it and between the two of us we'll have everything done in no time."

“Are you sure?” He frowns, not wanting to take advantage of your kindness.

“Absolutely.” Slamming your locker closed, you grab his hand and head for the exit, feeling positively brave. Your crush on Max might be unrequited, but at least you can be his friend. Everyone deserves a friend.

“My house.” He grimaces and swallows slightly. “It’s not….fancy.” He feels his face get hot and he’s a little defensive. “But it’s clean. My mother says that being poor is no excuse for being dirty.”

“My house isn’t fancy, either.” When he doesn’t pull his hand away you just keep it, wondering why it’s taken you all the way to senior year to even do this much. You’ve never been particularly brave, but this is just…it’s just talking to someone. Right? “It’s okay. Fancy doesn’t automatically equal better.”

“Yes it does.” Max argues, looking at you like you are crazy. “Fancy is always better. It means that you can have the best.” He sighs. “One day I will have the best of everything.”

****

“You remember me?” As much as you remember him - every detail, down to the curve of his nose that he hates and the hair that he had dyed and apparently dyed back again - you didn’t expect him to remember you. It’s been years since the last time you saw him face to face. A whole ten years or more. He stopped coming back to Lubbock after a while and you didn’t exactly blame him. There was never anything exciting going on there.

“Of course I remember you.” You were one of the few good memories he had from Lubbock. “What are you doing here?” Of all the people in New York, he had never anticipated seeing you. And apparently his neighbor. He had expected you to be married and have kids, although that could still be true. His eyes drop down to your left hand and he can’t see it because it’s holding a plate of cookies.

“I—I live across the hall.” As startled as you are, you’re still standing in the hallway of your apartment building and you shift your weight nervously from foot to foot. “I saw a box in the chute marked for toys, so I thought I’d bring cookies and introduce myself.” Now that you know it’s Max, though, your cheeks are burning hotter than the early July heatwave. “Just…wanted to be friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s- it’s good to see you.” Max opens the door wider, motioning for you to come in. “How long has it been?” He knows exactly how long it has been since he’s seen you. Twelve years, two months and six days since he’s last seen you.

“Twelve years.” You answer far too quickly, but you step inside his apartment anyway. It’s identical to yours except being flipped - a mirror image that lets you know where everything is with only minimal thought. “It’s good to see you too. You’ve…well, it’s been a long time. I’m sure you’ve been up to a lot. You always had big dreams.”

He frowns, certain that you must have known about the dream stone incident. Been affected by it. “Yes, I did. That is over now.” He looks back at the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. “All I want is to be a good dad.”

“Who says that’s not a big dream?” Carefully setting the plate down on the corner of his kitchen counter, you wipe your hands nervously and shove them in your pockets. “If you ask me, that's about the biggest dream there is. Parenthood is a big deal.”

“Yes.” He nods seriously. “I let Alistair down once, but I will not let him down again.” He sighs and looks up at you guiltily. “Do you have kids?”

“I was never lucky enough.” Something that your mother considers the ultimate failing. She considers your choice to be a career woman to be a betrayal of her plan for you. The fact that you wouldn’t just settle for any guy who would have you was a tragedy in her book. “I have a job I love, and a cat to keep me company.”

“I like cats.” Max offers nervously, looking around the apartment and wondering what you think of the mess he has accumulated. “Sorry I’m not unpacked.” He offers, eyes finding you again and finding you just as pretty as he remembered. Maybe more so.”

“I didn't expect you would be.” A smile quirks up the corners of your mouth and you can’t help being glad to see his hair back to its natural brown. You had seen the blonde in his tv commercials and on the news — it didn’t suit him. “Hell, I think it took me a month to unpack and it was just me and Dantes.” You fluster slightly, finding his eyes on you. “That’s…that’s my cat.

“Dantes huh?” His lips quirk up in a grin, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. “Like the Inferno?” He jokes.

"I named him after the Count of Monte Cristo, but he's as temperamental as a volcano." He still has the most beautiful smile, it twists your stomach exactly the way it did when you were teenagers. "You can come over and say hi anytime you like. I'm just across the hall...and even if I'm at work Dantes loves company."

“Alistair would love that. He has always wanted a pet, but….” He frowns, remembering that he had always said that he would get him one later and later never came. Another failing. “He would love it.” He finishes lamely.

"Come over anytime," you repeat, smiling a little brighter when that old, familiar crease notches in Max's forehead. "I'm sure Alistair and Dantes will get along famously." It will have the added benefit of getting to see him sometimes, and despite feeling ridiculous for still nursing your schoolgirl crush, you won't deny yourself a small, private pleasure. "It's nice to have an old friend around again."

You had been a friend to him, one of the few. The bittersweet pang of regret thumps inside him and he nods. “That would be good.” He agrees. “My- my ex-wife had animals and he- he misses them.” He admits.

“No problem.” Instinctively your hand goes out to him, touching him gently on the arm. “But I’m…I’m sorry to hear that. The ex part…”

Max can only blame himself. He had spent too much time chasing his dreams and Genji had grown tired of waiting for him to pay attention to her. He was lucky she let Alistair live with him, although it left her able to travel with her new husband. He shrugs. “She is happier and I am grateful for our son.”

“Sounds like you got the winning end of the deal to me.” You offer him a smile, knowing that transitions can be difficult. And divorces are never easy either.

“Only after almost losing him.” Max acknowledges, frowning as he remembers how frightened Alistair was, and how he had to run away because of Max’s mistakes. “But that is now the past. We are here for a fresh start.”

“New York is a great place for a fresh start.” He’s probably more than sick of talking about what happened, and you have no desire to sully this unexpected little reunion, so you don’t say a thing about it. “Definitely more to do than in Lubbock,” you joke instead.

“What brought you here?” Max asks, interested in your life since he last saw you.

“The intense desire to get away from my mother.” It’s only half a joke, and you chuckle when the corners of his lips turn up in understanding. “I work for a publishing house in Midtown. It’s good work and decent pay. And it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than editing articles for the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal and sitting through tedious dinners with whatever men my mother was trying to set me up with.”

“You never married?” He frowns slightly, unable to believe that someone would not have snatched you up.

“I was engaged once. It…didn’t work out.” Finding out he’d been cheating on you for half your relationship doomed that marriage before it could even start. You’re just glad that you had found out about it before walking down that aisle. You’re almost grateful that that girl out in St. Louis had decided to call you up and cuss you out. “What they say about airline pilots might not be true of all, but it’s certainly true of some.”

“I’m sorry.” He winces and shakes his head. “He must have been an idiot to let you slip away.” You had been his dream girl for a long time until he had met Genji.

"He wanted the world on a string." It was what he always said. It just wasn't until later that you had realized what he meant by it. "Sounds like we both had idiots in our lives. Otherwise she wouldn't have let you get away, either."

“I was never there.” Max admits. “Even when I was. I was too focused on becoming someone.”

"You'll be there for him now." You can hear him playing in the back bedroom, crowing happily over a spaceman toy. "And he's lucky to have you."

“I hope so.” Failure is one of Max’s greatest fears and he’s already done that.

"You never could see how special you are." It slips out before you can stop it, a slight shrug of your shoulders is the best you can do in pseudo-self-defense. He never did think much of himself, but the more you had gotten to know Max, the more obvious it was to you that that was a result of how his father treated him.

“You don’t know the things that I’ve done.” It’s selfish but he hopes you never find out. “I better finish unpacking the kitchen before the pizza gets here.” He knows you wouldn’t want to stay and he doesn’t want to be rejected so he doesn’t invite you for the pepperoni pizza.

"I, uh--I'll get out of your hair." The way he shuts down breaks your heart a little, but you nod your understanding. You've overstayed your welcome and he has never felt as strongly about your friendship as you did. That's just...well, it's just life. "It's...it's really good to see you, Max."

“It’s good to see you again too.” He promises, smiling slightly. “I’m sure we will run into you again. We are neighbors.”

"Yes. It's good to see you, too." With your heart in your throat, you nod and make yourself smile as you step back to go out the door. "I'll see you around, neighbor."

****

“So prom is coming up.” Max frowns slightly as he walks with you. He’s nervous because you haven’t said anything about prom and you talk about everything. He wonders if you have a date that you don’t want to tell him about. “Are you going?”

"I don't think so." Walking home together has become a ritual. Today you wrap your jacket a little tighter as you walk to block out the early spring chill and try not to get excited about the question he's just asked. No one else had asked you to prom, that's true. But you would have turned them down anyway -- you've been holding your breath hoping that Max would ask. "Can't go to prom without a date."

“We should go.” Max argues. “It’s Senior Prom. We can’t miss out on memories like that.” He’s been working on the weekends with his dad to save up for a tuxedo rental and a corsage. “The theme is ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’.” He reminds you.

"You...want to take me to prom?" You know the smile on your face is far too wide, but this is exactly what you've been dreaming of. These walks home, spending a little time at his house before his dad gets home from work, even starting to chat a little with his mother sometimes. You may not be Max's girlfriend, but you want to be, and you've made every effort possible to show him that.

“If you want to.” Max bites his lip. “I know you will probably have someone else ask you, and it’s okay if you’d rather go with them, but I’ve been saving up to buy a corsage and take you out to eat.” He admits. “I’ve been working with my dad.”

"I want to." It's too quick of a reply to be ladylike, but you don't much care about that. Not when you're actually being asked by the right boy. "With you. I want to go to prom with you. Yes."

“Yeah?” He’s surprised, but grins happily. “Then let’s go to prom together.” He nods, beaming and his posture straightens proudly. “You and me, we will have fun.” He promises.

"Yes, we will." Already convinced of it, you don't care a single second for anything or anyone else in the world right now. Max asked you to prom. That's all you've wanted for ages. "I'm going to make my dress," you announce, smiling up at him as you walk down the sidewalk. "My mother has some extra fabric from a wedding that she made dresses for. It's the most beautiful shade of blue you've ever seen."

“That will be good.” He nods. “Do you want me to match your dress?”

"If you want to." The idea is a little thrilling - looking like you belong together - and you nod. "I think you'd look very handsome in blue."

“Then that will be the tuxedo that I order.” He promises, looking forward to the idea of going with you and seeing you dressed up. For him.

It doesn't seem real that he would actually want to go with you, but as you walk alongside him toward his house it feels like the very best kind of dream. He isn't shy about wanting the best of everything, and you always encourage him, but it isn't like you're the prettiest or most popular girl in school. There are other, arguably better choices. But he still asked you. "I can't wait."

He smiles, amazed that you had said yes. He doesn’t know why, but you seem to like being around him. “We will have a good time. Dance and see what the fuss is about.”

"I don't think I've ever seen you dance." There's no reason you would have, all things considered, but the thought spreads your smile a little further.

“I can dance.” He huffs, almost insulted by the idea that he couldn’t. The fact that he’s been practicing in his bedroom by himself is irrelevant.

"I never said you couldn't!" When he pouts like that it makes you want to find out if his lips are as soft as they look but you would never try to kiss him out of the blue. Only fast girls kiss boys they aren't going steady with - and your mother warned you what happens to fast girls. Well...she's said 'And you know what happens to fast girls, don't you?', but you were always too scared to admit that you didn't have any clue what she was talking about.

“Good, because I can.” Just to prove his point, he stops walking and grabs your hand to pull you into his arms to dance a small little circle around right there on the sidewalk.

It's like a movie scene when he reaches for you, his hand on your back burning through you despite the chilly weather. You could just melt right into the pavement on the spot. "Well, look at you," you hum, feeling breathless with your heart beating so fast. "A real dancer."

“All gentlemen know how to dance.” He informs you, grinning widely as he lets go and steps back to bow gracefully.

"Then I'll have to work on becoming a little more ladylike for you before prom." A soft giggle escapes you when he bows, and you shift your bookbag on your shoulder.

“Don’t change a thing about yourself.” He protests, shaking his head. “You are just right as you are.”

"You're very sweet." As the two of you turn to start walking together again, your hand itches to reach for his so you shove it in your pocket. "The sweetest boy in the whole world is taking me to prom."

There’s nothing that he can say to that, his mind going completely blank except to repeat that you think he’s sweet over and over again. He bites his lip and tries not to look too happy about your comment.

"Have you heard back from any colleges yet?" He has talked about wanting to go. You've talked about it together, and he has so many ideas for what his business degree could turn into that it makes your head spin. But he hasn't said yet if he has had any acceptance letters so it's made you wonder.

“A few.” He sighs and wishes that he were rich or his family was rich. “I can’t go though.”

"You have to have been offered scholarships." You know what trouble he would have with being able to go. It's the same one you have which is exactly why your own mother told you to stop being stupid and forget about it. Colleges, apparently, aren't for girls.

“Not enough for Harvard.” He had already done the math, several times and just couldn’t afford it. “I have to turn down an Ivy League school because I’m too poor.” It stings and he hates it.

"I'm so sorry, Max..." His dreams mean the world to him, and you know it. But there are some things that are beyond even his grasp. If you could find a way to make the world perfect for him you would do it instantly, but that dream is still out of your grasp.

“It’s not your fault.” He swallows. “Have you been hearing from colleges?”

"No." You shake your head, staring down at your shoes as you walk. "All that work you helped me put into the applications and my mother took them out of the mailbox and threw them away." The words ring in your mind, her voice echoing in your head. "College isn't for girls."

“College is for everyone.” He argues, immediately upset for you. You had worked hard on those applications and they were really good. You would have gotten three of your choices for sure. “We can redo them, hope they accept them late?” He offers quickly.

"She wouldn't help me with tuition." And unfortunately, he knows that you would need financial help to go to school, too. "I would have to get a full scholarship somewhere, and even with good grades I just don't know if it would happen."

“If you don’t try, you won’t ever find out.” He reminds you. “Great rewards sometimes require great risks.”

He has no idea that he sounds wise when he says things like that, and when you tilt your head to peek up at him again he's looking at you so earnestly that you sigh quietly. It makes your heart ache to know how special he is to you and that he couldn't ever feel that way about you, but you'll soak up every ounce of his attention while you can possibly get it. Before he goes off and conquers the world or something. "You really think so?"

“I do.” He nods seriously and frowns as he thinks. “After- after my parents are asleep, I could sneak over and help you.” He murmurs quietly. “Apply to your top three and I’ll mail them off from my house. That way she can’t throw them away.”

"Tonight." You decide, ready to believe anything is possible if he has that kind of faith in you. "Do you really think you can manage to sneak out? I don't want you to get in trouble on my account." His father could lose his temper over almost anything, and the last thing you wanted was for Max to suffer any extra. Not for you.

“I can.” He smirks slightly and straightens proudly. “We will make sure you go to college.” He knows you want to be an editor, maybe even a writer one day and he knows that a good college will make that happen.

Overwhelmed with the idea that it could be possible, you surge forward and grab his arm, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek before you pull away again just as fast. Your own face is burning, but just in this moment you find that you don't actually care that much. "Thank you," you murmur, beaming at him with gratitude and excitement. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a good friend. Thank you, Max."

“Thank you.” He murmurs quietly. “You are the one who befriended me.” He reminds you. You had pulled him into that classroom and saved him for another beating.

"I should have done it a long time ago." The embarrassment of not being braver stings, but there's nothing you can do besides swallow it down.

“No.” Max shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong. We all do what we have to. You were just trying to protect yourself.”

"Still." There isn't any point in wishing to change the past. You know that and he's right that you were trying to protect yourself. "You deserve the world, Max. Really."

“One day I will have the world.” He vows, grinning at you. “And so will you.”

****

It's a random, seemingly unimportant Saturday morning when a small knock sounds on your door. You had been sitting with a cup of coffee and a muffin trying to convince yourself to work on the draft of the book that you had been chipping away at for years when you heard it. Dantes mewed at the sound like it was rude for interrupting his long morning of staring at the ceiling, and you just laugh. "No, no," you chuckle at your cat. "Don't disturb yourself. I'll get it." The prim Russian Blue doesn't move when you get up from your seat and you peer through the peephole to see no one standing there at all. Opening the door curiously, you find a little boy with impossibly wide eyes standing on your doorstep. "Well, hello." You've seen this little boy before, coming in and out of the building or on the stairs, always hugging tight to Max's side. "You must be Alistair."

“Dad said that you have a cat that I could play with?” He asks, curious to find out the truth of this. “He knows I was coming over. He said he would be just a minute behind me. Is that okay?”

"Of course it is." Stepping back to let him inside, you point through the kitchen to the cat tree. "That's Dantes. Let me get you some of his favorite toys and a few treats you can give him, and you guys can play in the living room, okay?" This is a cat who loves kids, so you're sure everything will go well, but you want Max's son to go into the first meeting armed with all the right tools.

“Okay!” He grins at you and nearly bounces on his toes with glee. “I’m excited to meet him. I’ve wanted a pet for a long time but dad didn’t have time, but I don’t blame him.” He tells you seriously, nodding for emphasis.

“Your dad is doing his very best for you, and that includes making sure you had a neighbor with a cat to visit. You’re welcome to come over any time you like, and your dad is too.” You leave the door cracked open for Max to follow, careful that it isn’t enough for Dante’s to escape, and bring Alistair to get the cat’s favorite things so they can meet.

Max had been washing your plate to bring it over to you again. Alistair had been too eager and had decided that he couldn’t wait to go meet Dantes. Max didn’t have the heart to tell him to wait, so he had sent him over and hoped you would understand.

When he tentatively pushes the door open a few minutes later, Alistair is on the living room rug dangling a toy for Dante’s to bat around with a bowl full of kitty kibble and assorted small treats for the cat and a muffin and glass of juice for himself. You’ve set yourself back up at your little kitchenette table a few feet away, though your manuscript is now pushed aside in favor of the New York Times crossword. “Hey.” When you spy Max’s head peak around the door, you wave him in. “Morning, neighbor.”

“It’s not too early, is it?” He asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “I wrangled him as long as I could.” He grins and shrugs. “But then breakfast was over.”

“It’s never too early.” Not for him is what you want to say, but instead you say, “not for friends.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not until coffee for me. I used to take all these supplements and herbs, but now it’s just pure caffeine.”

“Can I pour you a cup? I always make a full pot for some reason and never drink it all.” Up and out of your seat before he can even answer, you’re grabbing a mug out of your cupboard and pulling out the bakery box from your trip down the block this morning. “I also have more muffins than one human can manage. I guess the wind told me to be ready for guests today.”

“I’m sorry we showed up unannounced.” Max winces and looks around. “If you have plans…..” He doesn’t want to intrude on your day if you are busy. It would be easy to get Alistair to leave. He’s been promising to take him to Central Park.

“I was going to sit and curse at my manuscript all day,” you admit with a shrug and pour out his cup. “You saved me from getting frustrated with myself.”

“Oh! A book?” He asks, remembering your dream of writing a book. “Is it your first? Or are you published under a pen name?”

"This would be my first. I've been fighting with it for years and I'm still not satisfied with the second half of the story." Coming back to the table, you set down a mug of coffee and the box of muffins for him with a plate. "Alistair asked for the chocolate chip, I hope it's okay that I said yes."

“Of course.” He can’t help but huff in amusement. “Probably better than the burned eggs and cereal we had for breakfast.”

“Help yourself,” you insist, motioning to the box. Sitting down across from him like this is oddly familiar - like your high school cafeteria should materialize around you any second - but you don’t dislike it.

“I appreciate it.” He’s remembering all the times you had eaten together over the years. Including the one meal he bought you before prom.

“How is the job search going?” The few little talks you had had in the stairwell or while grabbing your mail from the boxes in the lobby had clued you in to how Max’s life is running these days and it’s an unfortunate reality. Since the incident people have been wary of him and even downright rude.

“I will find something soon.” He forces out cheerily. “I am hoping that a few places will call me back.” He doubts it, but all he can do is hope someone gives him a chance.

“I know it isn’t…Your dream or anything, but the publishing house I work for is expanding so they’re hiring all sorts of positions.” It was something you had been discussing ad nauseam in the office and had been meaning to mention to him anyway. Now is as good a time as any. “I can get a complete list from my friend in HR if you like? And I’ll vouch for you if you decide to put in for anything.”

“Are you sure you want to be associated with me?” He asks seriously. Some of the comments you have made lead him to believe that you know what happened last winter. “I don’t want to put your profession or your own job at risk.”

“I’m sure.” You’ve always been sure about him. He might not understand it - hell, sometimes you didn’t always understand it - but that’s just how you feel about him. “I know you, Max. I trust you.”

“You haven’t seen me in twelve years before this week.” He reminds you quietly, looking down at the blueberry muffin in his hands. “I wasn’t a good man.”

“I might not know anything about Maxwell Lord,” you lower your voice, not conspicuously but not wanting to perk Alistair’s ears. “But I know Max Lorenzano. He helped me get into college. Took me to prom. Listened to every story and fear and triumph that I had for years. You were my best friend, Max. Let me repay you for helping me believe in myself.”

Max swallows harshly, overcome with the glowing review of a boy who had been so ashamed of being poor. It sounds like you preferred him. “Thank you.” He replies hoarsely.

“I know it’s been a while.” But you’ve thought about him constantly, and even though you might not admit that to him so that you don’t have to have an awkward conversation with your first love about him actually being your first love, you’re not shy about wanting to help. “I’d like to be friends again. Like we used to be.”

“Like we used to be.” He nods. Friends where a shy and awkward boy had an unrequited crush on you. He had survived it once and he could do it again to have you back in his corner.

“Alistair’s very sweet.” It changes the topic cleanly because you don’t want Max to get a whiff of the fact that your feelings for him have come back nearly full force. Not that he had any idea the first time around. Or if he did, he hadn’t let you know it. Instead you put your focus on his son, the excitable little boy that he has put all his focus in himself.

“He is a good kid.” Max can easily agree with that. “I don’t deserve him, but for some reason he loves me.” His eyes drift to the living room and he smiles when he sees Alistair petting Dantes and cooing happily at the attention loving cat.

If you were bold, you’d promise him that he’s not difficult at all to love, but you’ve never been bold. You hadn’t even been bold enough to kiss him at prom. Instead you smile warmly and pick up your coffee. “You deserve much more than you think.”

“I think we will have to disagree on that.” He murmurs, snorting softly. “I didn’t realize what I was doing until I almost lost him. An angry mob, coming for me, scared him and he was wandering the streets of D.C. by himself.” He stares down at his coffee mug, glad to get this off his chest. “I would have never forgiven myself if he had been hurt.”

“What is life if not making mistakes and learning lessons?” You had been watching right along with the rest of the world while it all happened, but being on the outside must have been a very different experience than being where he was on the inside. “He’s okay. He’s safe, and he has a father who loves him. In time you’ll learn to forgive yourself like he’s already forgiven you.”

“Perhaps.” Max won’t agree with that, but he also won’t count it out. “First I need to prove that I can be useful. Helpful.”

"Sometimes it's okay to just have fun, too." But you won't push. Or press. "I haven't seen you since college," you say instead. "What have you been up to, besides having that angel of a little boy?"

“Married…divorced.” Max sighs and shrugs. “Tried to make Black Gold work. I really did. Convinced I was going to find oil.”

"There are lots of places in the world with oil. It isn't so crazy to think that you would find some." Anytime you had seen his name in the papers, you had tried to follow it. Unfortunately it seemed to be more bad news than good for the last few years.

“Except I never did.” He has made an uneasy peace with his past and shrugs slightly. “Perhaps it was for the best. I certainly learned humility.”

"There must have been bright spots." You can't believe that his entire adult life has been miserable.

“Not as many as there were during our senior year.” He admits with a small chuckle. “I was chasing the dream and didn’t stop to admire the roses.”

"Maybe that's what this is, then." The urge to take it as a compliment to you is there, but it would be conceited to think that he means you were what made it good. "Time to stop and admire the world around you."

“Admire the world around me, huh?” He contemplates it for a moment, wondering where you go so wise, but then he remembers that you have been living your dream for some time. Max just needs to figure out what his new dream is. “I think you are right.”

****

It took a couple of weeks for Max to go through the interview process, and your bosses had pulled you into a conference room with an HR rep for an hour of round table "Are you fucking serious?" about the fact that your name is listed as a personal reference on his resume. In the end they had relented. In eight years with the company you had never had a single mark against you on your file and you're one of the most productive editors on staff. If they're going to take anyone's word at all about a potential new hire, it's going to be yours. Now, two weeks into Max's time as a member of the office's janitorial staff, your coworkers are starting to take notice. They've noticed that you arrive together every morning and leave together every evening, and that sometimes you chat quickly in the hall in passing. Almost all of them have recognized him at this point, of course, and it seems like they've deputized your closest work friend to ask you about him.

Max is eager to please, finding that the work is not beneath him as he might have once imagined. He pushes his cart around the offices with pride and tries to ignore the dirty looks and comments. Especially the prick in editing that purposefully made a mess for him to clean up. Seemingly enjoying watching Max clean up after him. He sees one of your co-works walking up to you so he doesn’t stop, just giving you both a respectful nod and a small smile as he makes his way to the bathrooms for their twice a day cleaning.

It’s good to see him taking pride in what he’s doing now. Tangible results of his work being something that seems to satisfy Max in a way you hadn’t expected but are grateful to see. “Hey Kim.” She’s buzzing directly over to you without being subtle, so you slow down to talk to her.

“Soooooooooo.” She lifts her brows and looks at Max’s retreating back. Instead of the boxy power suits he had been wearing, he was wearing a pair of work chinos and a polo shirt. Perhaps a little more dressy than most janitors but it’s an effort to look professional. “This is interesting.”

“The hallway?” You raise a skeptical eyebrow at her, continuing to walk back toward your desks at the other end of the floor. “I don’t know that I would call it interesting.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She huffs and jostles your shoulder lightly. “Max Lord.” She clarifies, rolling her eyes. “How do you know him?”

Yes, you knew, but that doesn’t mean you’ve exactly been excited for someone to come asking about it. You know what people still think of him. “We grew up together,” you tell Kim honestly. “Same home town in Texas.”

“You grew up with Max Lord?” Her eyes widen and flutter back towards the hallway where Max’s cart is sitting outside the Men’s restroom.

“Yep.” Trying to not make it seem like a big deal, you shrug. “We were friends. Now he’s my neighbor and we’re friends again.”

“Friends.” She’s skeptical about that, but she can’t deny that Max is far more attractive in person than he was in those horrible television ads. “Uh huh, if you want to keep your cards close…” she eyes you, waiting to see if you say anything else.

“What?” Her face says she doesn’t believe you, and she’s fucking right not to but you do your best to look innocent.

“You haven’t noticed that - despite being Max Lord - your friendly, neighbor janitor is a very good looking man?” She scoffs slightly and sends you a knowing look. “And just your type based on the men you like looking at when we drag you out to happy hour.”

“There isn’t any despite being with Max,” you defend instantly, feeling a little indignant. “He’s a good guy who did wrong and he’s doing everything he can to rebuild his life now.” It’s bad enough he got bullied in school, he doesn’t deserve that bullshit at work, too. “And—” Clearing your throat carefully doesn’t help you sound less guilty at all. “I…don’t have a type.”

Her brows shoot up at the vehemence in your voice and she doesn’t remind you that he almost destroyed the entire world with that wish granting trick he had pulled. She doesn’t think that you would listen and you are a good friend. “If you say so.” She murmurs quietly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

"There's nothing for me to get hurt about." A fact which makes swallowing hard for longer than you're proud of, and you avert your eyes back to watching your shoes tread the carpet like you used to do in the halls of your high school walking side by side with him.

“Do you want to come out with us tonight?” Sensing that you are wanting to change the subject, she obliges. “We are going out for apps and drinks.”

“Sure.” It’s been a while since you had a night out with the girls - since Max appeared in your life - and it sounds like a good idea. Like having fun instead of sitting in your apartment hoping and wondering if he’ll come over to say hello after already being at work together all day. “The usual spot?” There’s a bar not far from the office that does great food, and sometimes there’s single guys from other nearby offices to flirt with. It usually makes for an entertaining Friday night.

“Absolutely.” She nods, shooting you a grin.

“Okay. I’ll just let Max know.” It will be the first time since starting his job that he’s committed home alone, but it’s not a difficult trip. He already knows the connections by heart.

“You…..you should bring him.” Kim says after a moment. “Let him hang out socially. Might help.”

"Are you sure?" The look you give Kim is skeptical, knowing that some of the girls you usually get drinks with might not be so warm about getting to know Max. And usually there aren't many guys that tag along. "Are any of the guys coming tonight?"

“There’s Brad and Dan.” She acknowledges, shrugging slightly. “It could be good for them to see him as a normal man.”

"It would be good for them to see normal human interaction." You roll your eyes, but only playfully. Brad is more than a little bit of a horndog and Dan seems to have learned everything about how to be manly from Brad. It isn't a bad thought. Getting to get to know some people outside of their roles at the office is probably a really good idea, actually. Contemplating it for a second, you nod. "I'll invite him. But if he ends up not being able to come it's probably because his babysitter couldn't stay late on short notice, not because he doesn't want to be social."

“Then I won’t tell anyone that he might come.” She decides, knowing that surprising them might them best thing anyway. You both stop at your desk and she reaches out and touches your arm, “I don’t want you to be cross with me.” She tells you. “I just wanted to see what was going on.”

"I'm not cross." Kim has always been a good friend, and you squeeze her hand back gently. "I just wish it were easier for him to get the clean slate he came here for. But you're right. Socializing will be good."

“It doesn’t help that he broadcasted his mistake.” Kim reminds you quietly. “But I have to admit, he’s been nothing but polite since he’s been working here. And the bathrooms are spotless.”

"He knows he did wrong. And everyone deserves a chance to start fresh." At least, that's what you've always said. And so far you haven't had too many people who made you briefly regret your optimism. "It's nice of you to think of inviting him. He really is a good guy underneath everything that happened."

“He’s attractive.” She has to admit, “especially with the darker hair that looks more natural on him.”

“The blonde didn’t suit him.” A nostalgic smile drifts across your face that you barely even notice but Kim surely does. “He dyed it back to its natural color. The way he looked when we were growing up.”

“And you didn’t date?” She smiles skeptically.

“No.” A thing that makes you glance away and fluster more than you’re proud of. “We went to prom together, but we never went steady or anything.”

“Oh.” She nods and bites her lip. “Well, let me know about tonight, okay?” She doesn’t want you to be upset if it’s a case of unrequited love and that seems to be what it is.

“I will.” Your nod is enough to make her comfortable taking away, and it’s about an hour later that you catch Max moving across the hall to restock the kitchenette that services this floor of the building.

Max reasons that the staff of the publishing house is lucky. The management provides complimentary snacks and drinks beyond packs of peanuts and coffee. It’s really impressive and it makes him think of what he would have offered his own staff if Black Gold had actually become successful. He regrets how he had to tell Raquel that he couldn’t pay her that last paycheck, but he had managed to send it to her three months later when he had sold his house.

“Hey.” Slipping into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee, you grin seeing Max so diligent and seemingly satisfied with each thing he gets done. Any job is good that can be satisfying. “How’s your day?”

"I do not know how some people can be so disgusting in public." He shudders and shakes his head. "The men are the worst....but," he grimaces and lowers his voice. "I do not know how some could keep their....sanitary products unwrapped when they are used."

"Women are absolutely gross." You tell him sagely, nodding with a solemn expression to keep from giggling. "If Alistair had a sister you'd see it full force, I promise."

"I am not unused to women's monthly issues." He insists. "I was married to Alistair's mom and would often buy her the things she needed." When he remembered, which was less often than he should have. It was another regret he had, but he couldn't make up for it now.

"Speaking of things we do monthly." Waggling your eyebrows at the lame segue to make him laugh, your smile spreads when you get a confused look out of him. "Some of our coworkers are going out for drinks and stuff after work tonight. You're invited, if you'd like to call Señora Ramos and ask her to stay with Alisitair a little later."

His expression is one of shock and then he frowns. "I don't know if I should." He admits, glancing towards the door of the break room. "I don't want to cause you issues." He knows that you have taken some flack since you had convinced your bosses to give him a chance. Even if you deny it, he's caused you problems. The last thing he wants is for you to suffer more when you've been an incredible friend to him.

"You're not." And no matter how many times you need to repeat it, you always will. Max is never going to get his confidence back as long as he thinks of himself as a burden. And to you? He is anything but. "It might be good to spend time with people out of the office. Make some new friends?"

"I doubt that." He scoffs slightly and bites his lip. It would be nice to spend some time with you outside of the apartments and the office. Socially. Like that one dinner that he had managed to pay for all those years ago. "Do you want me to go?"

"Of course I do." There is no possible way you would want anything else, unless going out would truly make him unhappy somehow. "I love spending time with you." Yup. That's how that sentence goes. Absolutely.

He quietly thinks about it for a long moment before he nods. "I will call Señora Ramos and see if she can watch Alistair for a few more hours." He decides and despite his worries, his posture straightens and he looks excited.

"You deserve a night to be an adult," you remind him, but the way he straightens has you hoping that he's looking forward to it now. "I'll see you at the end of the day, okay? We can walk over to the bar together."

"I will see you then." He nods, knowing he will have to call the babysitter right away before he can really start looking forward to the idea of going out with you and your friends.

******

When the end of the work day comes, you're eager to leave your desk behind. Max hadn't come by your desk to tell you that there was a problem with plans for the evening so you're looking forward to being able to just relax with your friends - both old and new.

Max finishes up his work early, busting his ass to make sure he was done and able to put all of his supplies away and be ready for you at the elevators on time. He has gotten the go ahead from Señora Ramos and was looking forward to buying you a drink.

"Ready to go?" Though you beg your mind not to brim with memories of him picking you up for prom, they're at the top of your mind anyway as the elevator opens and Max strides out into the lobby.

"I am." He had to dry his hands on a paper towel on the way down to the lobby and shove it in his pocket. "Are you?" He asks, lifting his brows and giving you a chance to reconsider. He wouldn't blame you.

"Absolutely." You would take his hand under different circumstances. As it is, your fingers twist around the strap of your purse as you nod toward the doors. "Kim and some of the others just went ahead to grab us tables."

“Oh.” He frowns slightly but nods. “Then we should hurry, no?”

"It's not a race." It does make you chuckle, though, and you nod toward the doors before starting to walk. "We're five minutes behind at the absolute most."

"Where do you normally go to do this 'happy hour'?" Max asks as he guides you out of the building and lets you turn him in the right direction.

"There's a place called Pollard's a couple of blocks away that has really good drink deals and small plate stuff. I'm a big fan of filling myself with margaritas and flatbread on a Friday night." In fact it was something of a ritual, and you're glad to share that with him if he's inclined to it. Alistair is a strict cheese-only kind of kind when it comes to pizza but there is a whole world of more adult flavours to get behind.

"It has been a long time since I have had a margarita." He admits, wondering how you act when you have alcohol. Genji used to make fun of him for being too earnest, too eager to please when he was drunk. He had switched to champagne to make himself seem more sophisticated but actually hated the taste.

"Then you'll have to share with me." The idea lights you up inside and you nudge him while you walk. "They do this margarita tower thing...it sounds impressive but it's two or three drinks each and ridiculously cheap. Best margaritas in the city."

"Then we will have that." Max grins and nods. "And you like the...flatbreads?" He doesn't know what it is, but you seem happy about having one.

"It's just fancy pizza." You grin when he sounds confused and put your nose in the air while you walk. "Fancy metropolitan pizza. I thought you might like a change of pace from all the cheese all the time."

Max groans and rolls his eyes. "Aliastair has to try something else." He pouts slightly. "Even if it's just pepperoni."

"One day we'll have him eating a huge variety. But not quite yet." That pout hasn't changed in twenty years. It still makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and cuddle it away. Which is why you immediately shove your hands in your pockets when you see it. "For now, we'll have some adult treats."

"Something other than Fruit Loops." Max snorts with a grin. "He had me buy two boxes when we went to the bodega last weekend."

"I promise." You hold up your pinky to him after scurrying across a busy street. "No Fruit Loops."

Chuckling as he rings his own pinky around yours, he feels like he's back in high school with you. Promising that he won't become friends with your cousin, as if that could have ever happened. "I want to buy your drinks and food tonight." He tells you.

"You don't have to do that." In fact, you had been planning on just paying the tab for both of you. Considering that you're the one who invited him, you didn't want him to feel pressured or have to count pennies.

"I want to. To say thank you." He shoves his hands into his pockets and concentrates on the steps in front of him. "For helping me find the job, for being a good friend." He lowers his voice slightly. "For not hating me."

"I could never hate you." Sure there had been things you didn't understand. Or times you were hurt when he lavished attention on other people. Like the girls at college that he had told you about during their holiday breaks. But hate? You could never. "I'm glad to have my best friend back."

Friend. He reminds himself that was what he was to you. No more. He frowns slightly as he suddenly thinks about something that makes his heart drop. "You- is there someone you meet at your happy hour meetings?" He asks, slightly jealous of the idea.

"There's a couple of people who always come. Kim, Jennifer, and Gretchen for sure. And usually Carmen. Apparently this time Brad and Dan are coming, too," you tell him, fully misunderstanding the question.

"And which one are you happiest to see?" Max asks, happy mood suddenly souring.

"I mean...usually Kim, I guess?" It's impossible to stop on the pavement in the middle of Midtown, but you tilt your head and your forehead furrows when he looks upset. "Why? Do you...not like some of them?"

"I see." He shakes his head. "No, I do not know them." He reminds you. "I understand now why it never...." He breaks off and shakes his head again, adopting a charming smile. "Never mind, I am eager to meet your friends."

There's a train of thought there that you can't quite follow, but you nod vaguely and keep walking. The two of you are quiet when you pull open the door to Pollard's and Kim waves enthusiastically from a place in the corner where a half dozen small tables have been pushed together for your group. "Looks like we're over there."

Max hangs back slightly, both wary of everyone's reception of him and mulling over the knowledge that you had never been interested in him because you liked women. He had wondered why you never seemed to want to take things farther with him. One of the reasons he had looked so hard for someone in college, to get you off his mind.

After giving hugs to your friends and sitting down beside Kim, you pull out the chair on your other side for Max. The group looks like they've been told to behave themselves - something you'll thank Kim for later - and you look around you only to notice that he hasn't sat down yet. "Max?"

"Hello." Max nods to everyone and bites his lip. "Do you mind if I join you?" It's important that he doesn't insert himself where he's not wanted. Something that he would do too often in his bid for respectability and investments.

"You're more than welcome," Kim insists, waving her hand at the chair on your other side. Everybody had agreed to play nice tonight for your sake. Generally speaking you're just too nice for your own good, and most of your extended work-friend group is curious. "Food here is great. I don't know if our girl told you or not on the way over."

Our girl. Max smiles politely and sits. "She has told me about the margaritas and the flatbread pizzas." He nods and looks around at everyone and wonders what they really think about him being here. "So I believe I will like it."

"Let me guess," Kim hums, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Margarita tower?" "Of course." It's kind of your go-to anytime you have someone to share it with, and you stretch out with a happy grin at the table. "Max needs a rest from the world of juice boxes and cheese pizza."

"You have a child?" Jennifer asks curiously. "I didn't know that."

"His son's an angel." You offer, smiling at Max, who looks uncomfortable again. "He's my cat's new favorite playmate."

“Alistair is eight.” Max tells them. “The best son anyone could ask for. Sweet and kind, loving.” All traits that Max needed to improve on as an adult, but Alistair’s faith in him, your faith in him, kept him pushing forward.

“Eight is such a good age.” Gretchen goes a little dreamy. Everyone knows her kids are hell on wheels now that they’re teenagers, and she misses when they were little. “Curiosity is at a premium at that age. They’re like little sponges. And so sweet. Oh you’re so lucky.”

"Very lucky." Max can wholeheartedly agree with that. "We have been exploring the museums on the weekends and he asks so many questions that the tour guides don't know." It makes him regret not taking him to more museums while they were in D.C., but he is enjoying the outings with his son and is proud of his curiosity.

“Does he have a library card yet?” She asks, obviously enjoying memories of that age. “My youngest loved the themed story hours until she was eleven or twelve.”

“He doesn’t, but I should get him one.” Max tilts his head in interest. “He loves to read and watch movies.”

“It’s worth it.” Gretchen promises with a smile, and she picks up her menu. “No matter where you are in the city, you can always find a branch.”

“Thank you.” Max replies sincerely. “I will take him to get a card this weekend. We are planning on picnicking in Central Park.” He chuckles. “Which, to Alistair, means pizza at the park.”

“Central Park and the library sounds like a perfect day.” It twists your heart a little - the number of times you’ve thought about what would have happened if you have been brave enough to tell Max how you felt years ago. If Alistair would be your little boy instead of someone else’s. The result has been that you soak up every minute of time that Max’s son is willing to spend with you.

“Would you like to come with us?” Mac is always happy to have you with him. You make the even brighter with your company, just like when you were in high school.

"I'd love to." There's no hesitation for you. No question or even need to consider. Any chance you get to spend with Max, you're going to take it. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together, huh?" Kim asks, amusement twitching in the corner of her mouth. She had thought that you were acting a little defensive earlier because of some unrequited thing, but now she thinks you might just be oblivious to how requited it could be. Not that she would ever get mixed up with a guy like Max Lord, but you seem to have a unique history with the guy.

“She has been very kind to us.” Max is careful to not sully your reputation with telling them how most evenings are spent together and you’ve taught him to make more than mac and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. “New York is very different from D.C. and we are grateful to have someone who knows the area like she does.”

"Rekindling the old friendship, right?" It's a little bit of prodding, sure, but she's also trying to peel away at that Maxwell Lord veneer that they all saw on tv for so long and make him a real person to your other friends.

“I was very lucky to have her as my friend.” Max admits, looking down at his hands shyly. “Believe it or not, I was not well liked when I was younger.” He chuckles at how true that still was, although that was because of his mistakes rather than his misfortune of being poor or an immigrant.

"Neither of us was," you amend, not wanting him to feel singled out by that fact. "If not for Max, I wouldn't have survived senior year. And I definitely wouldn't have gone to college."

“That was a long night.” He remembers, smiling slightly at the memory. “But your admission papers were perfect.” He had sent them off like he had promised and you had been accepted to all of them, with scholarships.

"My mother was furious." A fact which makes you giggle now, so many years later. "Until it became a bragging point. She found out that one of the colleges I applied to was all women, and suddenly I was making a modest, pious choice to educate myself to be a good wife." You roll your eyes heavily, knowing that your years at Sarah Lawrence had radicalized you in ways that your mother could never have dreamed of. "Imagine her disappointment when I went and got a career after college instead of a husband."

“She should be proud of you.” Max shakes his head, still unable to believe what your mother had put you through. “I was. I am. You are in a prestigious position and working on becoming a published author.”

"All thanks to you, it sounds like." Kim is actually smiling, and Gretchen's expression has turned from curious to fond. "You know, this is the most we've ever been able to get her to open up about the old days. Normally she just glosses over any hometown or family questions."

“Oh.” He tosses you a look, hoping that he has not overstepped. “Life was not great for us, but we managed together and we had fun. Prom was possibly the best night of my life until the day Alistair was born.”

"Did you go to prom together?" Gretchen looks like she might melt at that, while Brad and Dan are clearly regretting that there isn't something less girly to talk about.

“Yeah.” Max nods and grins slightly. “It was a good night. We had fun and I still have the pictures we took.”

"You still have those?" Somehow you hadn't expected that, and it makes you light up and soften at the same time. "My mother got rid of my copies...along with pretty much everything else."

“She was always a…difficult woman.” Max sighs. “Genji made sure that she kept them when we divorced but returned all my stuff when we moved to New York.”

"Sounds like your ex-wife and my mother would have gotten along well," you grumble sympathetically when the waitress appears to take your drink orders.

Max defers to you, letting you order first and adding a glass of water in addition to the margarita tower.

Several beers, Gretchen's Long Island Iced Tea, and Kim's white wine selection later, you're all engrossed in looking through food options. The reason you like this place that is it's easy to blend into the background and still get decent service. Yours isn't the only office that empties into this building on a Friday night, and a group of tables nearby is taken up by some folks from a nearby marketing firm that you recognize as fellow regulars. It's just a cordial, relaxed atmosphere that is more than welcome after a long work week.

“They have a lot of options.” Max hums as he looks through the menu. “Have you had anything other than the flatbreads?”

"Not much," you admit with a guilty grin. "Do you want to try something else? I don't mind broadening my horizons a little."

“We could always get the appetizer thing.” He points to a sampler. “And your flatbread. Splitting it and trying more things?”

"If that's what sounds good to you, I'm in." He could suggest almost anything and you would go along with it, so this is barely a compromise. All you want is for him to enjoy himself tonight.

He nods, smiling at you and relaxing slightly. No one has been rude yet and it feels almost like the old days, although he’s still slightly upset he never realized that you were into women.

It's a comfortable evening, with people loosening up after some drinks and food. Brad drags Jennifer away from her seat to dance at one point, even though this is definitely a bar that does not have a dance floor. It's warm and comfortable and there is something extra in the air tonight that is probably just the margaritas talking, but it has you smiling and laughing even more than usual.

As the evening goes on, Max relaxed a little more. Somehow the buttons of his polo pop open and he leans back and ruffles his hand through his hair as the alcohol mellows him out. Sticking close to you and to Kim, he has tried to figure out the dynamic and it’s driving him crazy. He wants to be a good friend and be supportive of you, but he also wishes that he had taken that chance so many years ago and kissed you when it seemed like the right moment for it.

You're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...you'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much... Frankie Valli croons through the speakers in the bar, making your head jump up and your eyes snap over to Max. Like the memory of senior prom wasn't enough, that song throws you back in time harder than a slingshot.

******

Max tries to suppress his nerves, praying his hands aren’t sweaty as he guides you through the song. It’s romantic and one that he’s heard before, making him think of you. At long last love has arrived….And I thank God I'm alive “Are you having a good time?” He asks, desperately hopeful that you don’t hate the night with him.

"Of course I am." You're here with him, there's nothing realistic that you could think of to make it better. Realistic being the key. Those little daydreams you've had about going out to Lover's Lane with him or cuddling up under the stars? Those are just fantasies. "A--are you?"

“I am.” He nods and smiles at you. “Your dress is the prettiest one here.” You had taken his breath away and he was grateful that the corsage matched and his suit complimented it.

"Do you think so?" The pattern is a little old fashioned probably, but you love it. the flowers that you had carefully embroidered for embellishment and the few crystals that you managed to get your hands on had made you hopeful that he would like it, but your mother had scoffed that boys don't care what dress you wear. After that, even though you had finished the dress, you had been a little less giddy about it.

“It is beautiful. I cannot believe that you made it yourself.” He smiles and reaches up from your back to rub the edge of your shoulder strap. “If you wanted to, you could be a very accomplished seamstress.”

"Maybe I'll just make my own dresses." You beam at him, unable to contain how hard you're smiling at such a compliment. "Dinner dresses to go out in. Or even my wedding dress one day."

“It would be breathtaking.” His heart pounds in his chest thinking about your wedding day. Painfully wishing that he was the lucky man who got to meet you in front of the priest.

"Not that...that I think that will happen any time soon." Mostly because you can't picture the day at all with anyone but him, and he doesn't seem to like you that way. Even all through the nice dinner he took you to before the dance tonight, he hadn't tried to hold your hand or anything. Which is okay. It's not like you don't know that boys don't like you. But you're trying not to lose hope before the night is over.

“No, you must get through college first.” Max insists seriously. “It is important that you establish your dreams first.” Max decides that he will become wealthy before he asks you out, not wishing for you to pity him. He had been so nervous tonight he couldn’t form the words to ask you to the movies, even though he wanted to.

"I've been waiting for the right time to tell you." Deciding that this is it - this moment, this dance, this song, you are absolutely beaming at him. "I spoke with the financial department at Sarah Lawrence yesterday. They're actually going to give me enough scholarships and grants that I can manage it."

“What?” Max gasps, lighting up. “That’s great.” He lunges forward to hug you tightly, excited that you were getting to have your dream despite your mother trying to sabotage you.

“It’s all thanks to you.” You hug him back tightly, nearly giggling with excitement. “I never could have gotten it all done alone.”

"You could have." He protests, but he beams at your praise. "We will both have our college degrees in no time and I will know a famous publisher and you will know a powerful businessman."

Know. You will know each other. Nothing more. You try so hard not to let your smile dim and end up clinging to him a little harder. If you weren't so terrified of losing him altogether then you wouldn't care what the other girls said. You could live with being considered 'fast' for kissing him first if you were just brave enough.

You seem so happy by the prospect, he bites his lip and wonders if he imagines that you sometimes look at him like you want to kiss him. Perhaps it is just his own wants projecting onto you, he has a habit of doing that, but he cannot help it with you. If he had one person in the world to save, it would be you. Whispering your name, he gathers the shreds of his courage and presses slightly closer to you.

For a second you can't tell if it's your imagination or if the world really has stopped moving around you. Your vision has narrowed down to just him and he's filled your other senses -- but when does he not? When do you ever think of anyone in the whole world before Max? Sometimes you could swear he thinks of you as more than just a friend, and right now his hands grasping you a little tighter has your heart jumping directly into your throat as it starts to beat wildly out of control.

Staring into your eyes, Max wets his lips, finding them suddenly dry and chapped. He doesn't want your (hopefully) first kiss to be dry. He swallows again and decides to go for it. His fingers flex on your hip and his eyes drop down to your lips as he leans in more. "Ladies and gentleman! It is time to crown our prom King and Queen!"

The sheer volume of the announcement has you both jumping out of your skins, startling apart from each other like a cartoon and breaking the moment. You could have sworn that he was inching closer to you. He looked like he was going to kiss you. And now you've completely lost it.

Max's heart sinks down to his toes and he gives you a small smile before the two of you turn towards the stage. Cursing himself for not being fast enough, the moment is gone and with it, his courage.

******

“Did you have fun tonight?” Walking from the subway stop to your apartment building, you have your hands once again shoved into your pockets in that long-established custom of keeping yourself from reaching for him. A few margaritas each has you feeling loose and relaxed, but it isn’t like you’re not in control of yourself.

"It was really fun." Max sounds bewildered, as if he was surprised that having drinks with your co-workers, his co-workers could be a pleasant time. "I see why you like her." He still feels bad that he hadn't noticed it before, but he's trying to be there for you.

"Bars are girls?" You ask him, wondering why he gave a building a pronoun. Maybe it's one of those weird things like how cars and ships are female somehow.

"Nooooooo." He manages to giggle slightly, fully feeling the effects of the alcohol now. "Not the bar." He snorts and nearly trips over a piece of the sidewalk that has lifted up and he stumbles forward before straightening and looking down in bewilderment. "Kim."

"Did you not like her before tonight?" If he had disliked her you hadn't noticed, and that makes you feel a bit silly. But the silly might also be the couple of margaritas you had.

"No, I like her." He shakes his head, not willing to let you think he doesn't like your crush. "I think that she's nice. I see why you like her." He stresses. "I'm jealous."

"Why are you jealous?" That makes you frown very deeply, and your nose wrinkles. "She's just my friend." Not your best friend, or anything more -- like you've always considered him to be.

"I can't help it." Max hangs his head and his shoulders round slightly. "I will get past it. Support you."

"Stop." At the front door of your walk up, you swing around in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stand a little bit taller and actually look at you. "What are you talking about? Support me how?"

"By being happy for you." He frowns and motions towards you like it should be obvious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Your head drops and shakes animatedly, a pout turning down the points of your lips. "I'm fine, I guess? But I'm not...happy happy."

"Because you have not told her." Max nods, understanding and reaches out and takes your hand. "You must, otherwise you will live with regret. Like I do."

He isn't making any sense, but his large hand covering yours is warm and making you fuzzier than even the tequila had. "I should tell Kim that she's my friend?" You ask, trying to understand him. "She knows that already."

"No." Max winces and shakes his head. "You should tell her that...." he closes his eyes, in pain for the lost chance, or maybe the chance that never was. His unrequited heart aching. "That you love her." He whispers.

The swirling confusion that started at your toes and went all the way up to fogging your brain stops dead, and all of a sudden you're standing up - stone sober - in front of Max with a clarity that makes you feel more foolish than you ever have in your life. More foolish than the first time you ever met a lesbian, way back in college. "But..." you look at him with resignation in you somewhere. "I don't. I mean she's my friend and I love her platonically but...did you think I was gay this whole time?"

"You shouldn't have to hide it." Max swallows and opens his eyes. "I figured it out, it- it hurts because I know that my feelings would never be returned, and I wondered if I imagined the times you looked like you wished- it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am your friend and I will be here for you. Be your friend, no matter if I am jealous."

If the last revelation hadn't instantly sobered you, this one certainly would. You're practically gawking at him in the middle of the sidewalk as people move around you in all directions. "What feelings?" You insist - demand - feeling your heart strangle in your chest so tightly it could rip into pieces.

His shoulders round again and he sends you a look that is a mixture of humiliation, apology and heartache. "Please don't- I had tried so hard to move on from you in college, to pretend that it didn't matter that you would never date poor Max." He chokes out. "You- you have been exactly like you were in high school, of course my infatuation with you came back."

"Is this some kind of joke?" You never thought that Max would be cruel enough to pull a practical joke this personal on you, but your hands retract and you cross them over your chest like a very poor set of armor. "If it is, it's mean, and I never thought you were mean. But pretending you had a crush on me when I've spent my entire life in love with you is just cruel."

Max frowns, unsure of what you mean when he has just told you his feelings, but he swallows harshly. "I- I didn't- I'm sorry." He gulps, having completely missed your confession of love. "I know you don't - it's - I can't help it. You have always been the girl I wish I kissed that night at prom." He murmurs quietly, shoulders slumping even more and he turns to walk away, sure that you want nothing to do with him now.

It's too much to process and yet your mind gets through it at lightning speed. Fast enough with your reflexes to throw yourself through the other door of your apartment building and end up in front of him, your body is reacting a lot faster than you can even tell it to. He's barely inside the lobby before you're in front of him, and both of your hands hit his chest at the exact same time. Grasping the collar of his shirt to bring him down to you, this is the moment of boldness that all missed opportunities has been building to. If you miss this, you miss everything. And unlike prom, there is no dj to interrupt you this time when you pull him down to you and press your lips to his.

The alcohol and the melancholy fade instantly and his eyes widen, his groan of surprise loud against your lips but he doesn't pull away. He can't. Not when he has you pressed up against him and kissing him. His arms snake around your body and he pulls you close, deepening the kiss and feeling you melt against him.

It seems completely impossible for this to be happening, but he has deepened the kiss instead of pushing you away, letting you slide your tongue along the seam of his lips and inviting you inside the map the contours of his mouth the way you've dreamt of ten thousand times. Your hands clutch each other inelegantly, holding on for dear life, but you don't care how awkward it looks from the outside - you've been waiting for this moment for more than twenty years.

All he can think of is you. How you sound, how you taste. So much better than his imagination twenty years ago and even just today. Unable to believe that this is real as he fulfills a fantasy he never thought he would get to have.

In true city-life fashion, what breaks you apart is not a lack of enthusiasm, but the grumbling of a loud neighbor who shouts, "Get a room!" As he storms out the front door with his arms thrown up in disgust, as though two people kissing is the most offensive thing he has seen in his entire life.

Max flushes and looks back at you, wondering how you feel about the kiss that was just shared and his heart is pounding in his chest. “I- what was that?” He asks, unable to stop the goofy grin from spreading across his face.

"It's what I wish I had done in high school," you admit, the adrenaline making your heart beat wildly in your ears as you seem to vibrate in place. "What I wish I had done every single day. I was scared my whole life, Max. But then I finally said it and you didn't hear me and that scared me more than anything else in the world. That I could have told you and you still didn't know."

“You- you like me?” He asks dumbly, shaking his head and points to himself. “Me?”

"Yes, you." But since Max has had as terrible a time believing in his own self-worth as you have, there is no bite to your insistence. "Since well before senior year, if I'm honest. But courage isn't my strong suit."

“I- you don’t like Kim?” He frowns in confusion and closes his eyes. “Me. You like me. You’ve liked me.” He repeats softly. “Why?”

"Because...even though we were different we had important things in common. We had a whole town and our own families telling us to give up on our dreams and we worked our way up from the dirt. Both of us. You're...you're so smart, Max. And so much sweeter than you have ever given yourself credit for. And unbearably handsome, even when we were teenagers and everyone was some kind of gawky and awkward. You just...you made me want to be a better, stronger person." You shrug slightly, suddenly feeling self-conscious all over again, and shove your hands back in your pockets. "I always thought if I learned enough about the world and showed you I could be as smart as you that you might...you might think I could be more than just your friend. But when you came home from college you would always tell me about other girls and I just...I figured that if I had ever had a chance, I lost it on prom night."

“I didn’t think I had a chance.” Max admits quietly. “Believe me, I wanted you. You were just always way too good for me.” He shrugs his shoulders and shoves his own hands in his pockets. “I was lying about the girls. No one was talking to me. Not until Genji. I was trying to impress you, but you just seemed to be okay with it, so I thought you were just my friend.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” you murmur, wishing you had been better at seeing the signs or braver about asserting your own desire. “Even if it was with someone else…even if it broke my heart.”

“I wish I had told you how I felt. Alistair could have been ours together. But I would not have wanted you to leave me like Genji.” Max murmurs.

“I wouldn’t have left.” He may not believe you, but it’s true. Some people would probably call you blind with devotion. Maybe it is? Who knows. “When you were up there…Doing your broadcast?” The breath you let out is shaky at best. “I just kept wishing you could hear me. That that might make a difference to you somehow…I guess it didn’t work.”

Max frowns slightly and tilts his head. “What was I supposed to hear? There was one voice in my head that kept telling me to be happy.”

“To remember your happiness?” You look up at him with such hope that it is almost too much, but you can’t help it. “Maybe it was conceited of me. Or desperate. I just wanted you to remember that people love you as you are.”

“To remember my happiness.” Max nods. The influx of emotions and wishes were much more than he had anticipated and it seemed to jumble together at one point but that voice stood out. “That is...something I am working on.” He admits quietly.

"If that isn't me...or you don't want to..." Looking around reminds you that you are very much in public still and you press your lips together nervously. "Maybe we should talk about this upstairs?"

“Upstairs. Yes, upstairs.” He glances around and flushes slightly. “We should talk upstairs. And I can let Señora go home. Alistair should be asleep.”

When you make it up to his apartment, Señora Ramos is watching a movie on tv without a care in the world. Alistair apparently tired himself out reading an hour ago and all has been quiet since.

“So-“ as soon as the door closes behind Señora Ramos, Max is nervous and claps his hands together. Feeling vulnerable now that you know everything. “Do you….want….” He looks around. “A drink! Do you want a drink?”

“Maybe just water.” After the amount you both had earlier, and what you have to talk about, you want a chance to clear your head.

“Water is good.” He agrees, bobbling his head and rushing towards the small, galley style kitchen that he was lucky to have. Some apartments didn’t even have a kitchen.

“Max…” Leaning against the counter, you take down two glasses and slide them over to him. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about.”

“Sure I do.” Max snorts, opening the freezer to grab the ice tray. “It’s not like you tell the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were twelve that you thought she was a lesbian.”

“I’m still wondering why you thought that.” Mostly out of curiosity, of course. Though the news that he’s liked you as long as you’ve liked him is both satisfying and a little bittersweet. You could have had something so long ago if just one of you had been brave.

“You said that Kim is the person that you most enjoyed, you never talk about any men, now or back in school.” He shrugs, mildly embarrassed. “I know that people have been….more open….than they were back when we were close. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe I thought it made sense.”

“I never talked about boys I liked to you because I’ve always liked you.” It isn’t exactly an easy thing to admit to him, but the cat is very much out of the bag at this point. “Kim has been my closest friend for a long time. I absolutely adore her. But my love for her isn’t romantic. She’s like the sister I never had.”

"I am foolish." Max hangs his head and sighs. "I am sorry." He murmurs quietly.

“Please don’t be.” Stepping cautiously closer to him in his little kitchen, you take the glass of water he hands you and have a sip. “If you hadn’t thought so, you might not have said anything. And then we never would have come clean.”

He hadn't looked at it that way and he bites his lip as he watches you. "What do you want?" He asks softly, still irrationally fearful of rejection, but also hopeful.

It’s a vague question, but the context is so specific. Specific enough that you are shocked he feels the need to ask, but grateful that he isn’t simply assuming. “Ideally?” You ask, and wait for him to nod shyly. “I want what I’ve always wanted. To be with you. But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

"I- you know that people hate me, no?" He asks, scrunching up his brows. "Mi amor, it would be hell to be with me. Are you sure that is what you want?"

It isn’t a trick question, but you put down your water after another sip and hoist yourself up to sitting on the edge of the counter. “I want you to respect me. To love me and treat me well, and listen to my day regardless of whether it was good or bad. I want you to trust me and talk to me and confide in me and be silly with me. I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks of you. Be a good partner to me and I’ll be one to you, and that’s all that matters.”

"I do respect you." He promises. "I wasn't a good partner, not to Genji, but I want to be one. I will be one for you." He knows that he has made mistakes, but he feels like he won't make them again. His ideas for success have changed and as long as he can take care of his son and provide him with a happy, safe childhood, he will consider himself blessed.

"Then that's all I need to know." The shy smile on your lips tips up the corners of your mouth and you shrug guiltily. "Almost all." You admit when he gives you an incredulous look. "I also kinda want to know if you meant it when you called me amor a second ago..."

His eyes widen when he realizes his slip of the tongue and his tan complexion darkens further as he flushes in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it, but it was something that he thought often. "Yes." He admits quietly, but his shoulders don't round. "I did."

“Then that’s all I need to know.” You know your cheeks are burning but you truly don’t care. This is more than half a lifetime of pining coming to a head right now and you are so unbelievably touched that you aren’t the only one that has held onto the flame this long. It makes it special in a very unconventional way - as if you were being rewarded somehow.

He doesn't quite understand what you might be thinking but he nods. "Yes." He murmurs, wondering what he could say right now that would be interesting and flirty.

“So…” You shift slightly on the counter and tilt your head at him. “Are you sure you want to be with me, then?”

Max has had to bluff his way through many meetings, promising things that he couldn’t give the men who wanted to invest with him, or were thinking of investing with him. He doesn’t use that smarmy, painted on charm to reassure you. This time, it’s his own thin courage that has him stepping closer and reaching out to hold onto your waist as he steps closer again. “Yes.” His voice breaks softly from how low it dips. His lips curving up slightly. “Very sure.”

"Better late than never, right?" The warmth of his hands seeps through your clothes, waking up every inch of your skin and making you sit up a little straighter as he comes closer. That little smile of his is contagious.

“Only a lifetime of regret and enough stories to fill a book.” Max snorts.

"Some things are good enough to slog through all the hell for," you remind him softly. "It gave you Alistair."

“It brought me back to you. As well.” He reminds you, smiling at the thought. “But I want to do something else right now.”

"Oh you do, do you?" There is a distinctly boyish - maybe even mischievous - expression on his face that you've never seen before and it works for him. "What would that be?"

“I want to kiss you.” He admits, leaning in and his eyes flicker to yours. “Can I kiss you?” You had kissed him before, so he wants to do this.

It's beyond you to not be excited about it, even more than a little giddy as you nod and let your legs naturally slide apart to make a place for him to stand between them at the counter. "As much as you want."

He steps forward again, this time fitting himself in the space you allocated for him and leans in more, pressing the evidence of his desire against your belly as he cups your cheek and drops his lips onto yours.

The first press is soft but sure, and you almost startle feeling him press so obviously against you, but it is delicious. Instead of drawing away or jumping back or politely pretending not to notice, you lean in that much more surely and trap his hard on between both of your bodies. You may not have soaked through your panties just yet, but the heat rolling off of you is unmistakable. as unmistakable as your enthusiasm for kissing him again.

Groaning, he’s happy you don’t push him away. Instead you’re pulling him closer and his arms are wrapping around you to deepen the kiss.

Your knees bracket his hips, holding him tight against you and letting yourselves get lost in the moment. It's slower this time, deepening less frantically but no less ardently. Twenty years of wanting from both of you is being poured into this moment and you'll be damned if you're going to rush it.

He doesn’t try to push this beyond a kiss, although he aches to. He has no idea how long he leans into you, making out with you as if you are teenagers again.

No one could accuse either of you of a lack of enthusiasm. If you had not already been sitting on this counter you might have swept everything off of it just to get him to sit you here, enjoying what easy access you have to all of the most important parts of him. Access that - despite the fact that you have absolutely soaked through your panties and probably your pants as well - you don't know if you should be taking. Pulling yourself back from the edge of control and catching your breath is tricky, but you focus your eyes on him and feel your heart skip that all-important beat. "Max..." As much as you want to whine, your voice pitches down to be soft and rasping. "Is it too fast to ask if I can touch you?"

He’s conflicted. Not because he thinks it’s too fast, but he’s still coming to terms with the idea you want him. “You-“ he clears his throat when his voice breaks again. “You can do whatever you want to me.” He answers honestly.

"Then we should not stay in this kitchen." The grin you flash him is mischievous but oh so promising, and your hands slide up his shoulders to let your fingers just touch the trim edge of his hair. "Take me to bed, Max."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Maxwell Lord #Max Lord #Maxwell Lord x you #Maxwell Lord x reader #Maxwell Lord x female reader #Maxwell Lord x f!reader #WW84 #Wonder Woman 1984 #The One That Got Away #high school crush #friends to lovers

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

AITA for refusing to be put on a neighborhood roster?

not too long ago i (20s m) moved into a house with my mom (40s) and a friend of hers (30s-40s? m). it’s a rental in a city, about a mile or two from downtown. not long after we moved in we were approached by a neighbor (60s-70s? m) about adding our names to a roster of everyone who lived in the neighborhood. he wanted a LOT of info— names, phone numbers, email addresses— and this info would be added to basically an address book that supposedly everyone within like, a 2 or 3 block radius would get. i’m a skeptic and private person at heart, and so is my mom, so we politely said we didn’t want to be added to the list.

thing is, our neighbor… kind of didn’t really give us an option to opt out. not outright saying “you have to”, but was really pushy about how the rest of the neighborhood had their names on it and its available in the event of emergencies and things like that.

maybe it’s just the urbanite in me talking, who’s only ever lived in apartment buildings and doesn’t really know how to be “neighborly”, but i think this guy is (at least one of) the only homeowner on this block. most of this area is large multi family homes, and from what i’ve gathered the majority of them are rented out by owners to younger city people like myself, so i’m not sure how he gets by with this HOA neighborhood watch type stuff he’s trying. i don’t imagine a world where he was able to put this together without some resistance from other people he asked.

nonetheless, we begrudgingly added our info to the roster, and then were delivered the printout: 13 pages worth of contact information for people in the neighborhood… if you can call people 5 whole city blocks away part of the neighborhood. and, as suspected, there’s a lot of rentals, with all necessary contact info for landlords, and minimal info from the actual tenants. like, it feels more like a snitch sheet than anything. i don’t know when i would ever want to get a hold of a landlord who doesn’t even live here about an issue that could be brought up with the tenants themselves. like i said, it feels like HOA roleplay with a bunch of renters.

i really don’t feel comfortable being on this list or having it (there’s even someone on there who’s marked as deceased…?) or knowing other people around here have it. since moving in, there hasn’t been one time where i’ve considered using it. but, i’m not sure… aita for refusing? like, is there an angle to this that i’m not seeing? is this just something that neighbors do? it’s not like we’ve ever been contacted by anyone else around here, so is it just ultimately harmless and good for emergencies so i shouldn’t worry about it?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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whosscruffylooking · 1 year

Text

The Beginning of Us (Joel Miller x Fem! Reader)

A/N: Good laaawwd, it’s been about 2 years since I posted anything on here. Ofc it would be Mr. PEDRO PASCAL that would bring me out of retirement though...I’m really hoping to turn this into a consistent series so please give feedback and lmk what you think, I’m still a little rusty on the ol’ writing thing.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None. It’s very PG I think.

Word Count: 1.6k

»»————-　♡　————-««

*September 26, 2003*

The soft, white-gold hues of the morning light break through the curtains, warming you up just enough to wake you from your slumber. You reach your hand out from underneath the fabric of the sheets and attempt to rub the sleepiness from your eyes. The memories of last night play through your mind like a movie, goosebumps forming on your skin where the whispers of his fingertips haunt you.

Yawning, you stretch your body to relieve some of the soreness forming below your waist. You glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table before quickly settling back onto your side, the curve of your body fitting faultlessly into the shape of his. You can discern that he too is awake, but neither one of you will acknowledge the other, wanting to savor the moment just a little while longer. Occasionally, he squeezes you softly as if he needed to remind himself that you were real; that THE y/n was lying in his bed and his arms.

"Please don't go," his husky voice pleads gently, linking his hand in yours and drawing you to him face-to-face. Your eyes meet his wonder-filled gaze. The sun's rays make his brown eyes look...almost golden. His hair is messy, the result of your fingers being tangled in his soft curls the night before.

You repress the shiver fighting its way down your spine, "Stop looking at me like that."

He shakes his head, "I can't."

"Try harder."

"Then stop being so beautiful," he whispers, reaching his hand across your hips and tugging you up against him. You gasp slightly at just how perfectly every part of you fits with his.

Quickly you hide your face in your hands, sensing your cheeks starting to glow red. His thumb paints little loops on your thigh and you can feel the heat increasing in your stomach as he speaks, "Let me look at you."

You part your fingers slightly, giving him only a glimpse of your y/e/c eyes. He groans, "Fine...looks like I need to take matters into my own hands."

Propping himself up on his elbow, he pinches the sheets, the thin, cotton layer covering your bare skin. Slowly, he pulls the covers back and you watch as his eyes study you; similar to last night when he'd gradually unveiled you, inch by inch, body, and soul, before taking his time revealing just how exquisite he feels you are.

"Don't go," he repeats himself as he begins caressing every curve of your body.

Breathlessly you whisper his name, "Joel..."

"Come on, it's my birthday. And having some more of this," he spanks you softly, "Would be my wish come true."

"Come here," you pull him back down next to you, "Maybe just a few more minutes. But, I can't be here when Sarah wakes up." Joel encases you in his arms and you rest your head on his chest.

"How did this happen?" You giggle.

"You seduced me okay?" He jokes. "I remember it quite differently," you whisper in between peppering light kisses on his chest.

"Just trying to be neighborly," he places a playful squeeze on your hip.

"Well," you twirl his hair in your fingers, "However it happened, I hope it happens again." Before you can pull away too far, he captures your lips with his. His kiss intoxicates you and lights a burning desire within you to pick up where you both left off last night. Swiftly, he guides your body underneath his and growls against your skin, "Then let's make it happen again."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Walking up the driveway to the front door of the Miller's house, your mind wanders to the events of the night before.

The desperate shedding of clothing, the frantic grasps at each other's skin, the sensations neither of you knew you were capable of feeling, the echoes of you crying out each other's names.

"Should I be concerned?" A voice shakes you out of your daydream. You turn to see Tommy hanging out of the window of his truck. He points at you and you realize you're standing in the middle of the driveway, blocking his path to the garage.

As he gets out of his truck he invites you to follow him inside, "Come on in, but if I see you staring at my brother's house in a daze one more time...I'm gonna be real concerned." "Sorry Tommy, just lost in thought I guess," you mentally kick yourself. "Hey," he stops you briefly, "Have you heard from Joel? I kept tryna call him last night, but he never answered."

He didn't answer? That's so unlike Joel, I wonder wha-oh...right.

"I'm sure he was busy sulking over the fact that he's one year closer to receiving his AARP membership in the mail," you gloss over the issue.

Following Tommy inside, you struggle to fight back the hurricane of thoughts running rampant in your mind. Was last night a mistake? What if he regrets everything? What will happen if Sarah finds out? Will she and Tommy be able to tell something happened between the two of you?

"Well come on y/n, you're acting like you're in a stranger's house," Tommy drags you into the kitchen.

"Y/N!" Sarah squeals as she rushes to hug you. Sitting down at the kitchen table, you thank Tommy and Sarah as they bring you some food and a glass of water. Biting your lip, you focus your eyes everywhere but on Joel, terrified that just by looking in his direction, your body language will scream "I WAS JUST TANGLED UP IN JOEL'S SHEETS AN HOUR AGO!"

He inches closer to you, a hand resting inconspicuously on your thigh, "Hey, I'm so happy you're here." Almost instantly, your breathing relaxes and your hesitant look softens into the same smile you shared with Joel earlier that morning. You shiver slightly as your muscles unwind slowly but surely. That safety you felt in his arms is still there even at the slightest touch of his hand.

Joel and Tommy go back and forth about the day's job while you and Sarah talk about what's on the agenda for her classes. "We'll work a double," you hear Joel tell Tommy.

"Really? Today?" You and Sarah say in unison.

"I know, I know. We'll be done though by nine and I'll be right back home to celebrate with you," he caresses Sarah's hair. She looks over at you and then back to her father, "With us?" Joel's cheeks indicate the slightest hint of pink as he fights back his smirk, causing you to do the same. You quickly stuff your face with eggs in an attempt to hide your mirrored reaction. "Only if y/n is up for it," he responds to Sarah. She grabs your hand and begs you, "Oh please come over later it will be so much fun, and I know dad reaaaalllyyy wants you to be there." You watch intently as she slowly glances back at him and gives him a not-so-subtle wink.

"I guess I can fit you guys into my VERY busy schedule," you kick Joel under the table.

Tommy clears his throat, "I don't know. Seems like Joel here is the one with the busy schedule. Why weren't you answering my calls last night? Out on the town?"

Sarah stands up to clear the table, "What are you talking about Uncle Tommy? He was in his room all night."

Tommy straightens up and looks suspiciously between the two of you.

Damn it. That didn't take long.

Your eyes widen as you signal Joel to change the subject.

"Uh-Jakarta...hear that on the radio? Where's that, the Middle East?"

Sighing in relief, you reply to him before Tommy gets the chance to change the subject back to the more incriminating one, "It's the capital of Indonesia."

Joel checks the time on his bare, watch-less wrist.

Sarah told you a few days ago about her plan to get his broken watch fixed, so you gave her the money to go take it to a repair shop in the city after school.

"Finish up quick and say goodbye to y/n, we'll drop you off at school," he announces.

"I'm still finishing my eggshells," Sarah says sarcastically. Chuckling you turn around in your chair to look at Joel, "I can drop her off, it's on the way to work for me." "You sure?" He smiles. You grin at him and nod.

Sarah clears her throat and shouts to Joel, "Your shirts inside out." That grin of yours quickly fades. Joel chokes on the remainder of his coffee. Tommy pats his brother on the back, cheekily smiling at Sarah, who's mischievously smiling at you. They both chuckle, watching intently at you and Joel's telling eye contact.

"Just call us Sherlock Holmes and Watson," Tommy gives Sarah a high five. "I'm Sherlock though," she clarifies.

Abruptly you stand up and say your goodbyes, "Well I am gonna go start up the car. Sarah? Come over when you're ready. Bye, Tommy. Bye-" You can't even finish your sentence without Tommy's snickering getting the best of you.

Joel hurriedly follows you outside, "Wait up!" Turning to him and staring intently at him you notice how his eyes are doing all the talking, not wanting the others to hear. They tell of security, that you both will be okay, and that this is the start of something very good. Yet, there's something else there that causes you to tilt your head in curiosity. "What is it?" You give in. "However it happened," he begins, "I want it to happen again," he quotes your words from earlier.

With a half-smile and a newfound warmth in your heart you nod, "It will happen again. I promise you."

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n #the last of us imagine

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notspiders · 3 months

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Choose Your Fighter

Inspired by @391780 's chapter of the Rear Window series...

Don't you hate it when you wanna see your favorite girl, but get blocked by the cat that bit your leg and broke your surveillance equipment? smh.

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod mwiii #captain price #captain john price #cod price #john price #fanart #spidersinatrenchcoat #price x reader #cats

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firsttimewriter92 · 8 months

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Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 4

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3

Description: Simon said he wanted to to take you out on a date again. So why haven´t you heard from him in about a week?

Warnings: cursing, fluff, pining and longing getting stronger, reader is not vegetarian; little bit of angst, scared Simon, little bit of angst

Word count: 3.414

A/N: Hi everyone <3 This is part four of my slow burn fic about Simon Riley and reader.

This chapter takes us deeper into Simon´s mind, fears and reluctance. I hope you enjoy <3 It´s not beta read.

About a week after your first date with Simon, you wondered if he actually wanted a second one. You hadn’t seen him since his lips left your hand that evening. The hand that was somehow still tingling every time you thought about the encounter. He hadn’t knocked on your door, you hadn’t heard him sing in the shower. Now that you thought about it, there was not a single sound coming from the apartment next door. But before you knew that Simon actually lived there, you hadn’t paid much attention to it anyway. After realizing you had a neighbour, you were paying much more attention. You´d heard him moving around, rattling pots and pans, talking to Riley.

For one week now, eerie silence again. It was unnerving and calming at the same time. Unnerving because you didn’t realize how accustomed you became of the fact that Simon was living next to you and now there was nothing.

Calming because you hadn’t exchanged phone numbers yet and his absence meant, he didn’t have an opportunity to ask you out again. So, he wasn’t ghosting you. Right? But where was he? Away for work? What did he do anyway? You´ve talked so much during your date but your occupation never came up. Maybe a work trip. Yes.

Just as you solidified the thought of asking him for his number in your head you heard a dull thump outside your door. Then, two seconds later a soft double knock came down on your door.

Heart hammering in your throat you jumped up from your couch, controller haphazardly thrown down onto your coffee table as you quickly made your way over to your door.

Without looking through your peep hole you pulled it open, and your jaw hit the floor.

“S-Simon?” you hesitantly asked the huge black mass in front of you. It was dark out and he hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights in the corridor. The soft light from your entry way illuminated his slumped figure. He was wearing black jeans, a solid black shirt and leather jacket. But what had your attention most of all was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his normal mask. He wore a balaclava that hid his blond hair completely. Across his mouth, the image of a skull gleamed menacingly at you. A weary feeling settled in your stomach. Your eyes switched from the skull over his head and finally settled onto his eyes. The slither of skin that was visible underneath the balaclava was smudged with black paint. His eyes looked dull, the usual twinkle in them overshadowed by something slightly haunted.

He looked at you intently, his head slightly inclined before he spoke. His voice sounded tired, worn out. “Do you always rip your door open to strangers like that?” He didn’t sound annoyed or angry as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Instead, he sounded worried beneath the tiredly slurred words.

“I don’t get visitors. Especially not at this hour. I figured it was you, and you´re no stranger” you said quietly, regarding him with a slightly worried look yourself.

“You should really check your peep hole. Could have been God knows who.” You only nodded without answering verbally. Simon sighed deeply and scratched the back of his head.

“I wanted you to know I didn’t forget” he rumbled. “About…what I said.” His eyes gave you a sheepish look. “But before I could ask for another- “he stopped, trying to find the right word.

“Date?” you asked with a slight chuckle. “Hmm” he grunted his response. “-date, I had to uhm…go.” He was aware of the fact how lamely he ended his sentence and was visibly frustrated. He huffed, looking anywhere but at you.

Ok, this is going nowhere, you thought.

You stepped aside and gestured for him to enter your apartment. Even underneath the balaclava and his face paint you could see the surprise in his eyes. “Simon, come in, for crying out loud.”

Hesitantly, he scooted down and lifted his massive duffle bag off the floor. When he walked in, he again gave you a look that was filled with surprise and weariness. You walked in behind him and had to stifle a giggle when you saw this massive man standing in your living room, duffle bag in hand and seemingly lost. “Sit down, Simon” you said gently and watched him do so as you walked over to your kitchen counter and filled your kettle with water.

“I´ll be right back” you said as you passed him. His head snapped up as if he wanted to say something but stayed silent. Not even a minute later you stood before him, handing him a box of your makeup removal wipes. “Don´t know if they´re strong enough” you shrugged when he took them, looking up at you like he´d just seen you for the first time. “You can get cleaned up somewhat. I´ll be over there-” you pointed to your kitchen, “-having my back turned. I´ll make us some tea. Take your time.” All this was said with a quiet, gentle tone. One you´d probably use when trying to call a stray animal to you without frightening it. You smiled at him reassuringly and retreated to your kitchen as you´d said.

Your back was turned to him when you started preparing the tea. The slight rustling of clothes could be heard from behind you before a pop reached your ears and you knew he opened the makeup wipes. Happiness washed over you when you thought about him being able to remove his mask even though you were in the same room.

Taking your time preparing the tea, you poured the hot water over the bags and waited another two minutes. Here and there you could hear Simon moving behind you, his duffle bag being opened and closed again. “Tea´s ready” you said without turning. “You decent?”

You heard a deep, beautiful little ´hehe´ before he answered. “Yeah, darlin´, all good here.”

Thank the gods you weren’t holding the cups of tea yet, your fingers suddenly feeling a little numb as another slight shockwave ran over your skin, hearing the pet name again.

Taking a deep breath, you turned with the teacups in hand and walked over to Simon who was still sitting on your couch a little awkwardly. He´d removed his balaclava and was wearing his usual black mask again. His golden hair on full display but it was in a right state. Not adorably tousled as usual, it stuck out in weird places, lying flat in others and, what seemed like sweat crusted some strands to the skin of his temples and forehead.

With a smile you handed him one cup and sat on your couch next to him. He followed you with his eyes attentively. You were just about to situate yourself sideways on your couch so he could drink his tea in piece when he sat down his cup and gently touched your elbow. “No, wait” he said and looked you straight in your eyes. You sat your own cup down, facing him this time you waited for whatever he wanted to say.

Simon was seemingly fighting with himself. He opened and closed his mouth several times, took deep breaths before exhaling them in frustration and thrummed his strong fingers over his knees.

“Why aren’t you asking questions?” he finally croaked. He almost sounded defeated. You sighed.

“About the skull?”

“Yes”

“About your absence?”

“Yes”

“About the face paint?”

“Yes. Yes. Why aren’t you asking?”

He really seemed to be curious about it, his voice stayed stoic though.

“Would you answer those questions or avoid them?” you asked him instead and watched his eyes widen momentarily. He broke eye contact and looked at his shoes.

“Thought you´d do that” you said. “Simon, why would I ask you questions that I know I´m not getting an answer to? That make you feel uncomfortable or you´re maybe not even allowed to answer? It´s a waste of time. What matters is that you´re here. You wanted to let me know that you haven´t forgotten me or that you didn’t want to avoid me and that´s good enough for me…for now.”

Simon looked at you like you´ve lost your mind, shaking his head. “I am a stranger” he whispered almost to himself. It was your turn to shake your head. “No, you´re not” you said. Something shifted in the air between you. You felt him slip, his fight or flight mode on full force and flight seemed to be on his mind the most. His legs twitched and panic settled in your stomach.

“I´m guessing it wasn’t some sort of weeklong paint ball retreat á la Call of Obligation?”

That did it. Simon threw his head back onto your couch and laughed boisterously and so loud, you jumped several inches from your piece of furniture. He covered his face with both hands before he let out a high pitched and gleeful “No. No it wasn’t”, dissolving into giggles again. A huge weight lifted from your shoulders when you saw his respective ones shake with laughter.

A minute later he sat back up and rubbed his eyes before looking at you again. The little spark back in those pools of hazel.

“Try again” he said, voice scratchy and smooth all at once. He looked at you like he´d given up on something that had held him back before. Instead, being open and vulnerable in front of you.

“You´re military.”

It wasn’t a question and he recognised that immediately. The gleeful smile in his eyes vanished but he was still looking at you earnestly.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, well knowing that it was a rhetorical question. You were spot on, and you knew you were by his reaction alone. No beating around the bush needed at this point.

“I can see the chain of your dog tags” you whispered and gestured vaguely to his neck. “Put one and one together.” You shrugged but your stomach was twisting with nerves.

Simon didn´t talk for a few seconds. He regarded you with a mixture of disbelieve, relief and pride before speaking evenly.

“You truly are a bright one. I am. Military, that is. You´re right.”

Silence spread when you registered what he´d said. His eyes still trained on yours he was patiently waiting for your response.

“Well, I guess that explains a few things” you said after a while and exhaled a breath you hadn´t noticed you´d held.

“Does it?” he asked a little perplexed. “Like what?” You huffed out a laugh and raised your eyebrows in question. “Like your mask. Comparing it to what you wore when you knocked on my door, I can guess which direction this takes.” His eyes crinkled as he nodded encouragingly.

“The way you move. It seems like none of your movements is wasted or unnecessary. It´s precise and almost calculated.” Again, he nodded. “Riley” you suddenly breathed and looked at him with big eyes.

“Yeah” he said calmly. “She´s with me sometimes. She´s excellent at sniffing out explosives.”

“Where is she?” you asked next. “Quarantine” Simon answered. “We were…far away this time. I can pick her up in 24 hours. She´s not exactly my dog but she goes ballistic in the kennel, so they let me take her home.” You smiled a little at that. And then the worry for the both of them hit you like a ton of bricks. Your stomach twisted painfully, and a cold sweat broke out across your back. Simon must have read you like a book. His eyes grew worried and sad immediately and he leaned back a little, away from you. Somehow that made it even worse.

“That right there is exactly why I should have kept my fuckin´ distance” he growled through gritted teeth and shook his head. He looked like he was about ready to punch himself in the face. Another wave of panic washed over your body but before you could say anything he looked at you again. Your heart sank at the sight. Simon looked like a beaten dog, looking at you and begging to be loved and accepted. “Why can´t I keep my distance from you?” he whispered pain stricken into the void.

It was futile to try and stop what you were about to do.

Simon´s POV

This can´t be happening. What was he doing? He saw it in her eyes. The fear. This was the moment he always avoided under any circumstance. This is why he never allowed himself to have any relations outside the military. How was she supposed to understand? His heart felt like ice the moment he saw the weight of her findings finally setting in. Why was he so fucking selfish? Why couldn’t he leave her alone?

He was ashamed of his weakness. The weakness that would cause her pain. He couldn’t do it.

His soul felt ready to split in half. On one hand, her presence, her innocence and overall goodness made him believe in the good that still lingered in this world. Made him more sure about why he was fighting tooth and nail whenever it was required of him. It was for people like her. It was for her.

He left on that mission with her on his mind. Wreaking havoc amongst his enemies with a wrath that made even Soap MacTavish cower away from him, no joke on his lip, no quick remark.

He felt the need to make her understand why he was gone for so long without a word, the second they were relieved. He´d blown all caution to the wind. A mistake as he now realised. She´d figured it out. And now, she´d gradually realise that being close to him would only mean worry and pain. And he had caused it.

Only because she´d bewitched him mind and soul. Let him dream of a future, let him fucking relax and look forward to the next day with more than duty on his mind.

And now, she surprised him yet again. He couldn´t figure her out and it was a breath of fresh air like he´d never experienced in his life. She was a mystery. An enigma with the ability to surprise him.

She was a magnet. She was funny, she was bright, she was beautiful, she was hugging him.

His body froze. He felt her warmth on his lap, around his neck, against his chest, in his heart. Felt her squeeze him lightly to try and bring him back to earth. It was a task. How? Why? What did he do to deserve it? He´d brought nothing but evil tidings to her tonight. However it seemed like she didn’t think so.

“Hug me back, damn it” she whispered into his ear with a tight throat.

It took him no less than a nanosecond to fulfil her wish. His arms lifted and crashed her to him with force. Once. Just once he wanted exactly that. Hug her, feel her body against his. Ignoring the fact that she was already nestled comfortably in his heart. She was there for minutes. Sitting in his lap, her arms wound around his neck, weighing him to earth like nothing ever had. She gave him comfort, she gave him a moment of piece. The moment she moved her thumb lightly along the hairline at the base of his neck, he shivered violently.

She must have thought he didn’t like that and loosened her grip. “No” he breathed into her neck, rubbing his forehead against her pulse point there. “Just one more minute.”

___´s POV

Simon was a furnace. You´d never expected him to run this hot but the moment your hands wrapped around his neck you felt a burning sensation shoot through your body. It was calming, comfortable and somehow so familiar. The second you saw his eyes you couldn’t control your reactions anymore. Damned be your insecurities. Damned be your fear of rejection.

For some unknown reason you knew what you both needed. The thought of him, and Riley for that matter, being in actual mortal danger scared and worried you shitless. How could it not? But why did you feel this way? Simple. Because they held a significance in your life. To what extent you didn’t know yet. But it was obvious that they did. Even after a short time.

You held onto Simon for a couple of more minutes. Felt his steel like body slightly move underneath you, didn’t care about the fact that you were sitting in his lap, your thighs bracketing his, his chest moving against yours with deep, controlled breaths. Again you were able to smell his manly, citrusy scent. It invaded your mind and your ability to think clearly.

Simon took a last, deep breath before removing his forehead from your neck, looking up at you. A sense of relief washed over you when you saw the calmness in his eyes. The crinkles that formed around his eyes yet again still had some residue of black paint smudged in between them. Slowly as to not break the spell, you lifted your finger and gently wiped at the corner of his eye. He closed them gently. You saw his lashes flutter and felt an enormous pull towards him. Leaning forward just slightly you waited for his reaction.

He opened his eyes. They were so close, once again you saw the flecks of gold in them. You could feel his hesitation.

“Let me deal with it” you whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. “On my terms. But please, Simon. Please, don’t close yourself off. Your presence…it makes me happy. Still does now. Don´t take it away.”

He looked at you like you were the only other living creature on this earth and he slowly nodded.

“I give up” he said, choked up and smiling still. “You win, sweet darlin´.”

“´S not about winning” you said, chuckling.

“Yes, it is.” He said with emphasis. His hands moved and encased your face. Your whole face as you realised. They were much more massive up close.

“You won´t let me leave you alone. I can´t leave you alone. I´m not strong enough. And that´s fine with me.”

Gently he guided your face towards his. Your foreheads touched and he spoke again. His voice vibrating through the air. “I won´t ask you not to worry. What I ask is that you stay the way you are and try to forget what my occupation is. I know you won´t. You´re too bright for that. But please, try to...to-”

“I will. I promise.” You moved your head left and right reassuringly and it seemed to be enough for him. You moved off of his lap quite clumsily. Neither of you wanting to give up the others warmth just yet. Not knowing exactly how to handle the situation you once again watched him grab his duffle bag and walk to your door. He opened it, turned to you and without hesitation, grabbed you around the waist with one arm and brought you close. Slightly surprised by his bluntness you started to giggle.

Simon seemed to like that a lot. He pierced you with his gaze, hypnotized you to the spot.

“Next Friday, when I pick up Riley, I´ll make us Dinner. Does that sound like something you´d like?”

Again your body shivered in his arms. “Very much” you answered.

“Good” he said. And without another word he pulled you closer still and moved his lips to your forehead. It was like there was no mask in between you. Staring at his throat you felt his lips pursing against your skin. Felt the pressure behind it, felt the desperation and longing. It surged through your veins like a shot of high percentage alcohol. Your tummy filled with warmth and indescribable happiness.

This whole evening. The uncertainty, the worry, the revelations…all worth it, just to feel this act of belonging, trust and dare you say, love.

Simon let go reluctantly. His hand was still on your waist when he unfolded his body to his full hight, squared his shoulders and smiled. You knew what his eyes looked like when he smiled.

“Friday,” he whispered. “I´ll make whatever you like.”

A wide grin appeared on your face. “I like steak” you simply said and heard his chest rumble.

“Perfect” he said. Somehow you got the feeling he wasn’t just talking about your choice of dinner.

__________________________________________________________

Again, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it <3

Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

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